Chapter Eleven: Lookout, Bob-Whites!
This story is rated blue star and suitable for all ages.
The next morning passed in a blur of activity. Trixie, Honey, Jim and Dan were at the theatre by eight-thirty, with the first of the entrants due to arrive by ten that morning, Jim and Dan soon had the lighting and sound systems operational, Honey had filled the urn and laid out refreshment supplies, while Trixie cleared the wings and the front row of seats, setting up clipboards and pens for herself, Jim and Honey.
“I think if one of us helps set things up on the stage and the other two stay here and watch the performances, it should work out, okay,” Trixie said.
Jim nodded. “I’ll check things out on the stage and help get the acts on and off. You two can play critic or director or whatever you want to call it.”
“But you really need to see how everything looks, seeing that you’ll be running things on the actual night,” Honey objected.
“But we’ll be running them from up there, not from down here.” Jim pointed out with a grin.
Just after nine-thirty, Dan dashed off to help Mr. Maypenny, and the others prepared for the arrival of the performers. Jim offered to wait by the main door. They had organised for three acts to come in at a time, believing this would give them a better idea of how to schedule the event than if they saw them one by one or all at once.
“No sign of workers at all,” Trixie said with more than a hint of disappointment.
“Do you really think we have time to concentrate on that today?” Honey asked. “This benefit is important too, you know.”
Trixie flushed. “I do know that. I can’t help it if I can concentrate on more than one thing at a time.”
Honey looked hurt and Trixie gave her a quick hug. “Sorry, you’re right as usual. Today should be about the benefit.”
“And Monday, no matter what Jim or Brian say, we’ll come here right after school and start talking to the workmen,” Honey said, and the two shook hands, sealing their pledge.
Trixie added, “I did ask Dad to call Mr. Saunders to see if we could get hold of the original plans and he said yes, though I think he might be a bit suspicious.”
“Did he ask why you wanted them?” Honey said.
Trixie nodded. “I mumbled something about you and I being really interested in the history of the place, and then I said I thought we could display them during the benefit.” She frowned. “I hate not telling the truth.”
“Who said you didn’t tell the truth?” Honey defended her promptly. “We are interested in the history. Okay, it might be a particular part of the history but it’s still true, and your idea about displaying the original plans is a terrific one. We should absolutely do that.”
Trixie smiled gratefully at her always-supportive friend. “You’re right. It’s not such a bad idea. That makes me feel better.”
At that moment, Jim came in with the first of the performers and the two prepared to concentrate on the task at hand.
All three of the Bob-Whites were very impressed by the acts they saw that morning. The young ballet dancer was graceful and lovely, the poet moving, and the comedian so funny that they were literally falling off their chairs. They all seemed to enjoy one anothers’ performance, too, and some time was spent discussing the plight of the hurricane victims.
After they had seen them out, Jim glanced at his watch. “Good, we have almost half-an-hour before the next group arrive, so we can compare notes.”
“Well, if what we’ve just seen is anything to go by, the show’s going to be a smash,” Trixie enthused.
Honey nodded. “Weren’t they wonderful? Please don’t put any one of them anywhere near us. Okay?”
Jim and Trixie both laughed, and the former shook his red head. “I thought we had a deal, little sister.”
“That’s right,” Honey said. “From now on you can fine me or give me extra chores or punish me in some other way every time I do that.”
“Pass,” Jim said with a grin, while Trixie pretended to consider the options before shaking her own sandy head.
“You’re too busy for any extra chores or punishments, at the moment,” she said.
Honey gave an exaggerated sigh of relief. “In that case, I’ll show you what I wrote.”
The three exchanged their clipboards.
Jim had volunteered to be timekeeper, and his folder contained the running time of each act as well as his thoughts. “This is great,” he said. “We can easily come up with intros and closing remarks this way.”
The theatre seemed different without the bustling energy of the paint crew or Mr. Saunders’ effusive guided tour. It was quiet and dark, even with the stage and some house lights on.
Honey fetched them all hot drinks, and they were soon ready for the next group of performers. Like the first, they were impressive. They also indicated how much they liked the new theatre—even with the paint cloths everywhere.
“That quartet sounded almost as good as some of the orchestras Mother’s taken me to hear,” Honey said, and Jim nodded.
“I loved the juggler. That’s something I really wish I could do,” Trixie added with a sigh.
“You could probably learn, Trix,” Jim said. “You’re athletic and pretty strong.”
“And a bit of a klutz,” Trixie finished with a rueful grin.
Both Honey and Jim immediately began to protest, and Trixie smiled at them, thinking how lucky she was to have such loyal friends.
“Well, I’m sure I’d drop one of those balls right on my head,” Honey said, making them all laugh.
“But you’re supposed to be the graceful one,” Trixie teased.
Honey shrugged. “There’s a big difference between graceful and that.”
“That singing group was fantastic, and without music either. Isn’t there a name for that?” Trixie said.
“It’s called a’ccapela,” Honey said with a smile, “and you’re right, they were amazing.”
Jim stretched. “You know, it’s almost one and I’m getting hungry. I wonder if we have time to go and grab something to eat?”
Trixie frowned. “Gee, I don’t know, Jim, the next lot aren’t due until two, but Dan and Brian could turn up anytime and what if we get caught up?”
“You’re right, Trix, maybe when the guys show up, they could run out and grab something, or maybe we could give them a call and ask them to bring something with them?”
Throughout this exchange, Honey had looked from one to the other and now she gave her golden head a decided shake.
“You two should have more faith,” she said, stretching her own long slender legs and getting to her feet.
Trixie and Jim just looked confused.
“Didn’t either one of you notice me putting bags in the refrigerator as well as unloading the drinks?” she demanded.
“Apparently not,” her brother replied, his expression suddenly hopeful.
“I’ll go and get the food, shall I?” she asked, and her two friends nodded vigorously. “I think we should eat downstairs in the dressing rooms rather than in here,” she called over her shoulder.
Obediently, the two leapt to their feet and followed her out of the auditorium.
A few minutes later, they were gathered around a table in the “green room”, which Jim explained was the stage name for the room in which the performers waited to go on. Honey unpacked rolls, some filled with ham and others with egg and lettuce. There was also banana cake and a bottle of lemon mineral water.
“You are a genius, Honey,” Jim said, reaching for his second roll.
His sister raised her eyebrows in disbelief. “For having enough sense to bring lunch when I knew we’d be here most of the day?” Secretly, their reactions did make her feel a little proud of herself.
Jim laughed. “Seems like a good enough reason round about now.”
Trixie nodded. “I know I didn’t give it a second thought, and you never mentioned it yesterday when you asked me to remind you about the tea and stuff, which I forgot to do, by the way.”
“I didn’t need to be reminded about lunch,” Honey said.
“Or the other either, fortunately,” Trixie said with a grin. Most of those who’d been through the theatre that morning had been more than happy to sit with a hot drink while they watched the other acts in their group rehearse and perform.
“You know, we could probably go over the way we think the acts we’ve seen so far should be ordered,” Jim said.
Trixie jumped up. “I’ll run down and grab our notes.”
She ran into the auditorium and, as she did, thought she heard another door close on the other side of the room. She stood completely still. “Is anyone there?” she called, wondering if they’d left the front door open. “Brian, Dan, are you here already?”
No one answered her and she made her way slowly over to the seats they were using and picked up the clipboards. Maybe I just thought I heard it, she thought, or maybe Jim or Honey slammed a door downstairs. Carefully, she circled the room, taking a deep breath before opening the rear doors and the emergency exit located near the stage. There was no sign that anyone had been there. Deciding to ignore her sense of unease and the feeling that she was being watched, she resolutely turned and headed back to the green room.
When Trixie re-entered the room, her eyes met Honey’s who raised her brows. “I know that look,” she said. “What’s happened?” she asked.
“I heard a door close in the auditorium—”Trixie began, blue eyes flashing, “And I was thinking—”
Before she could launch into her theory, Jim cut her off. “Yeah, we really need to put a closer on the door between the green room and the male dressing room. It really made a bang earlier when I went through it,” he added. “I’m almost certain it would be heard upstairs and that would sure be disturbing on the night.”
“Oh, right,” Trixie said, feeling a little deflated. What a boring explanation. She was glad she’d held her tongue. She would have looked pretty silly outlining her theory that someone might have been spying on them.
Dan and Brian arrived while the first of the last group for the day were performing. The odd young man and his even odder dummy still gave Honey the creeps, and when Brian slipped into a seat behind her and dropped his hand onto her shoulder, she stifled a scream and almost jumped out of her seat.
The young man paused, and the dummy turned its head to look at Honey. “You are a very nervous young lady,” it said, wiggling its eyebrow. Honey sank back into her seat, embarrassed.
“Sorry,” Brian whispered. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
Honey smiled over her shoulder at him, still feeling sort of silly. Trixie covered her own smile, and Jim, standing in the wings, focused his attention on the stage. Dan joined them at that point and he grinned at the act in progress.
“Great,” he said. “I love ventriloquists.”
Honey looked at him as if he’d lost his mind, but the others smiled and they watched the remainder of that performance in silence.
“That was terrific,” Trixie said, when it was over.
“Thanks,” said Miles, the young man.
“Why doesn’t the nice girl like me?” the dummy asked sadly.
“I really couldn’t say,” Miles said, eyes gazing sympathetically at his co-performer.
Honey flushed. “I’m sorry,” she said, talking directly to the dummy, then, realising what she’d done, she bit her lip and managed a small smile. “You were very good and we’ll see you next week.”
The young man nodded and walked slowly across the stage.
“You do have very pretty hair,” the dummy intoned from its position still on the chair.
“What?” Honey gasped, her hazel eyes like saucers. She leaned further back in her seat, grabbing hold of the hand Brian had placed on her shoulder.
“How’d you do that?” Dan’s tone was both amazed and admiring, though he threw Honey a sympathetic smile.
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” the dummy drawled as Miles dragged him off the stage, with an apologetic smile for the Bob-Whites.
After the act had left, they all burst out applauding and laughing.
“That was awesome,” Dan said, and the others nodded.
Brian gave Honey’s shoulder a gentle squeeze and leaned forward, dark eyes concerned. “Are you okay?”
“Of course, I’m okay,” Honey said, knowing they were all laughing at her rather than with her. “They just make me feel…” She shivered, letting her statement go unfinished. “I can’t help it, they’re weird.”
“I’m gonna ask Mart if he knows how he might have done that.” Dan was still shaking his head.
“Let’s concentrate on the next act, shall we?” Trixie said, taking charge again.
The song and dance number that followed was great fun and the saxophonist was equally good. When they’d all been thanked and only Bob-Whites were left in the theatre, Dan took a deep breath. “Boy, they were really good.”
Honey nodded. “And you should have seen the people who came in this morning.”
Brian, who was still leaning over Honey’s seat, peered more closely at the notes on her clipboard. “This is really going to work, isn’t it?”
Jim hopped down from the stage to stand in front of his friends. “I believe, Miss Belden, that we still have one more act to preview.”
Trixie consulted the sheet on her clipboard and affected surprise. “Why, you appear to be correct, Mr. Frayne,” she said with a giggle. “A trio performing a popular classic number, or is that a classic popular number?”
Laughing, Dan made his way up to the stage followed by Brian, who pulled Honey up to stand beside him. They walked around the stage for a few moments before settling on a place downstage from the piano. Dan began to play, and they ran through the now familiar song.
Trixie and Jim pretended to confer and make notes. “Why don’t you and Honey move a little to your left,” Jim suggested, quite seriously, to Brian. “I think the lighting will be more effective that way.”
Brian and Honey shuffled around slightly until Jim had them in the right position.
“That’s better,” he said.
“Now,” Trixie commanded, with a grin. “Play it again, Dan.”
They all groaned, but Dan obediently started the song over. Honey’s lead and Brian’s harmony vocals sounded wonderful in the old theatre, and Trixie beamed at them. She and Jim exchanged proud glances, and Trixie allowed herself to just enjoy her friends’ performance.
“You should hold hands,” she instructed, tilting her sandy head to one side.
Brian shrugged his shoulders at Honey but reached over to take both her hands in his, and Trixie nodded, satisfied.
She didn’t know what made her look up, but she did and her eyes widened in horror.
“Brian, Honey, run, move,” she shouted, leaping out of her seat.
Her friends started, obviously confused, and then Brian caught a movement out of the corner of his eye. He pulled Honey hard toward him, knocking them both off their feet as a large black metal object hurtled down towards them.
BSM:MAIN NEXT
Poor Dana. I've mentioned before that I wrote this around 2004-5 and it shows. So many errors--sorry--you're amazing. Anyway, the remaining ones are mine, and warts and all, I still love this story. Thanks to those you are reading.Trixie Belden et al remain the property of Random House. No profit is being made from these scribblings.
