Chapter Nine: Criminals, Costumes and Classmates
This story is rated blue star and suitable for all ages.
Trixie gently shook her friend awake. “Come on, sleepyhead. We have things to do.”
Honey blearily opened her eyes and smiled.
Once they were dressed, Trixie reached over to the nightstand for a folder that she passed to Honey. “These are the articles Dad told us about. I’ve just read through them, but I want to see what you think. I’m pretty sure we’ve got time—it’s not even seven yet.”
In silence, Honey scanned the contents of the folder, her brow slightly furrowed. Finally, she looked up. “I don’t think there’s any doubt that the other man really did get away,” she said. “Though if they know that, I don’t see why they don’t just bring him back.”
“We don’t have an extradition treaty with Indonesia,” Trixie said knowledgably.
Honey was impressed. “That makes more sense then, and from what’s here he must have had a least some of the money with him.”
Trixie nodded. “But not necessarily all of it. That sighting at the airport says he checked in no luggage at all—just a carry-on briefcase.”
“You don’t need much space for money, or jewellery,” Honey said.
“I know that,” Trixie admitted, “but in the first account of the robbery it said that more than thirty safe deposit boxes were emptied and that the contents included…” She scrunched up her face trying to remember, and Honey rifled through the papers.
“Here!” She waved the article before quickly scanning it. “Bonds, jewellery, cash, ingots.” A frown crossed her pretty face. “They might not be all that big, but they would be heavy.”
“So you agree that he probably didn’t have all the loot.” Trixie tried to keep the excitement out of her voice but failed completely.
“Maybe not,” Honey conceded, “but he took that flight a couple of hours after the robbery. He could have hidden the stuff anywhere.”
Trixie shrugged. “Fair enough, but I’m definitely keeping my eyes as well as my ears open. And I still think that fourth robber is a real possibility.”
“Agreed, partner,” Honey said. Her frown deepened as she glanced at the grainy photos. “I don’t think I’d recognise either one of these two if they walked right up to me.”
Trixie leaned over and shook her head. “You’re right. Mark Webb and John Smith—can that really be his name? Those stupid beards don’t help either.”
Both criminals sported long tangled hair and thick bushy beards.
“Do you suppose your dad saw them without all this disguise?” Honey asked.
“I don’t know. I can check I guess,” Trixie replied. “But it’s probably not a disguise, as such, just a…” she paused before entreating her friend, “you’d know this better than me, what is it? A style choice?”
“Yuk.” Honey wrinkled her nose. “I prefer my men clean shaven.” She gave her long hair a decided toss.
“No surprise there,” Trixie chuckled. “Look, I’ll ask Dad and maybe we can go over this again tonight, if you come for dinner?”
Honey shook her head. “Sorry, Trix, Dad and Mother arrive home this afternoon, and Jim and I promised we’d definitely be home early and in time for dinner.”
Trixie swallowed her disappointment. “Of course, I knew that. You must be looking forward to seeing them.”
Honey nodded. “I can’t wait.”
Matthew Wheeler poured himself a glass of wine and smiled across the dinner table at his daughter and son. “You two have certainly been busy,” he said.
His wife nodded, tucking a strand of her wavy light brown hair behind her ear. “I can’t believe what you’ve achieved in such a short amount of time. Several of my committees want to do something to help, but none of them are this organised yet.”
The four were gathered in the Wheelers’ smaller and less formal morning room, where they often ate when alone. Baked fish and vegetables had followed cream of asparagus soup, and they were now enjoying lemon meringue pie for dessert.
Jim and Honey were embarrassed by their parents’ words of praise, and the former shrugged. “We really haven’t done that much.”
“Everyone wants to help so that’s made it so much easier,” Honey added.
“Well, I’m proud of you both, of all the Bob-Whites,” Mr. Wheeler said.
“And your father and I want to do something to contribute.” Mrs. Wheeler smiled at them both.
Honey and Jim exchanged looks. “You can buy some tickets,” Jim said.
“Of course, but we thought we could do a little more.”
Honey shifted slightly in her chair. “Miss Trask, Regan and Celia have all promised to help, and that might mean taking some time off, so that’s helping already.”
“After all, it is a Bob-White project, and we do want to do as much of the work ourselves as possible.” Jim didn’t want to sound unappreciative, but neither he nor Honey liked to take advantage of their family’s money.
“That goes without saying.” Mrs. Wheeler suppressed a smile as she spoke, trying to imagine her own wealthy conservative parents’ reaction had she been so independent as a teenager.
“However,” Matthew Wheeler fixed both young people with a pointed stare before continuing, this is the kind of project where any number of people want to be involved, so hear me out at least.”
Jim and Honey nodded, and the latter added, “It isn’t that we aren’t grateful, Daddy. You know that, don’t you?”
Her father nodded back, wondering, not for the first time, how this girl, whom he felt they’d neglected as a child, had become so thoughtful and considerate. “As you both know, I have extensive business holdings, and over the past few years I’ve invested in several companies here in Sleepyside.” He paused to take a sip of wine. “I’m sure they’d be interested in buying advertising space in your program.”
“Gee, Dad, that would be great,” Jim said swiftly.
His father held up a hand to forestall him. “I also think that the local Chamber of Commerce would like to set up a reciprocal donation plan for the benefit.”
Honey frowned. “What’s that?”
“We would match the funds raised by the benefit thus doubling your donation amount.”
“It’s quite a common practice in major fundraising,” Mrs. Wheeler added, seeing the uncertainty on her children’s faces.
Jim hooked a brow in his sister’s direction, and she shrugged her slim shoulders.
“It sounds amazing,” Jim admitted. “But I’d like to talk it over with the other Bob-Whites, just to be sure.”
Mr. Wheeler smiled. “Of course you would, but I’m fairly certain they’ll agree. I spoke to Peter Belden myself just after we got back, and I think the bank may offer something similar. Funds are easier for agencies to manage when they come in all together.”
“It does make sense. Don’t you think, Jim?” Honey asked.
Her brother grinned. “It seems to. We’ll get on it tomorrow.”
Their parents exchanged relieved glances, and while they finished their meal, they relayed all the details of their recent trip.
The following day saw more ticket sales, more sign ups and more advertising purchases. Knowing that things were about to get even busier, the BWGs did their best to get ahead with their chores. On Friday morning, as soon as Trixie’s biology class had finished, she hurried to the cafeteria where Honey was waiting for her. She slumped down next to her friend, her blue eyes dancing excitedly. “Finally, we can talk,” she said. Trixie had been dying to talk to Honey all morning, but the two hadn’t had a chance as they had been in separate classes and, on the way to school, Di had begged them to hear her rehearse her piece.
“I know. I’ve been dying to talk to you, too,” Honey admitted. “But I’m so glad we got to hear Di this morning. I could never do what she’s doing,” she added, recalling how impressed they’d been earlier that morning.
“Di, you’re just wonderful,” Trixie enthused from her position beside at the rear of the station wagon. “You and Miss Darcy make a great a team.”
The young drama teacher had been helping Diana during lunch breaks and had obviously been more than successful.
“You really think it works?” Di asked, her expression hopeful.
“It’s wonderful!” Trixie declared.
“Stupendous, remarkable, resplendent, breathtaking—”
“Stop it, Mart, please,” Diana begged.
“I’m just speaking the truth,” Mart said, though he knew his words had embarrassed her a little.
“He is right,” Brian put in. “You sound great, Di.”
“It was a terrific idea to include stories from those affected.” Dan said.
“It almost makes me cry,” Honey admitted, “but it’s like little snippets of hope and somehow that makes it inspiring.”
“Oh, that would be a great name for Di’s piece,” Trixie said, blue eyes sparkling.
“Snippets of Hope,” Jim repeated. “Sounds good to me.”
“Me, too,” Di agreed, her own violet eyes shining.
Everyone nodded their agreement and a very happy Diana breathed a sigh of relief as she exited the Bob-White station wagon when they’d arrived at school.
“If everyone’s as good as Di, we’ll have a hit on our hands,” Trixie had obviously been thinking about their friend’s performance, too. “Now,” she said, ‘”about you father’s plan.”
“So you’re okay with it?” Honey’s hazel eyes were hopeful.
“Of course,” her friend assured her. “Dad explained it last night. I didn’t actually follow all of it,” she admitted with a grin, “but Brian seemed to think it was a good idea, and you know what that means.”
Honey nodded. “Jim reacted the same way. He said the most important thing was raising the money, and that we were still going to organise everything ourselves. Daddy did offer to pay for all the food and drinks, but Jim said he wanted to wait until Brian had spoken to the local business people. Plus, we still have some money in the Bob-White treasury, and we’d rather use that.”
“Brian said the same thing to Moms when she offered to take care of most of the food. In the end they compromised. She’s going to make trays of her chocolate chip cookies and some mini apple pies.”
“Yummy yum,” Honey said. She was very familiar with both of these Belden staples.
“Hopefully, today we can talk to the people who want to volunteer to work on the night of the show rather than be in it.” Trixie chewed the end of her pencil, and Honey handed her friend a list of names of those who’d expressed an interest in helping.
“Oh, good, Jane Morgan’s put her name down,” Trixie said. “She’s a terrific organiser when she’s not trying to sabotage anyone.”
Honey laughed. “She’s been a real friend to Di since. She even helped her work on her speech.”
Trixie nodded. “You know, we are going to be pretty busy. Jim and I have only just worked out our opening and haven’t even started planning what we’ll say between acts, and you and Dan and Brian still have to work on your song. Plus you’ll probably end up co-ordinating the refreshments, and Mart and Di are both busy—she’s going to assist him with his magic act and…”
Honey held up her hands in a gesture of surrender. “Promise me there’s a point in there somewhere! You’re making me dizzy just thinking about how much we have to do!”
“Sorry,” Trixie chuckled. “Usually you understand my ramblings.”
“I understood you fine,” Honey said. “I just don’t get it, that’s all.” She paused, seeing her friend’s amused expression, and offered an answering grin of her own. “Okay, I’m not making much sense either, but apart from trying to give me a panic attack, what was your point?”
“Maybe Jane could organise the volunteer ushers for us?” Trixie suggested.
“That’s a terrific idea.” Honey’s response was enthusiastic. “I got the feeling the other day that she wanted to do something extra, but she’s still getting over that nasty virus so she really didn’t want to be in the show. This should be perfect.”
“I think so, too,” Trixie said. “Thank goodness it’s almost the weekend again. We’ve got nine acts coming in tomorrow to try out the space, and I don’t know why, but I’m really nervous.”
“I would be nervous about that, but I’m too busy being nervous about being one of them.” Honey gave her golden head a shake.
Trixie grinned. “That’s right, ten acts then. You know you’re sounding pretty good, all three of you.”
Honey shrugged. “At your house, with just your family and the Bob-Whites. I haven’t even sung in front of my own mother.”
“She’ll love it. You know she will.” Trixie leaned over to give her friend a reassuring pat on the shoulder.
“She keeps talking about getting some professional something or another to film it,” Honey gulped, hazel eyes wide. “It’ll be out there for all eternity.”
Trixie laughed outright. “Cheer up! You can just keep on looking at Brian, that shouldn’t prove too difficult for you.”
Honey wrinkled her nose. “You’ll be on the DVD too, so don’t get too smart,” she warned.
“But I’m just hosting, that’s not worth filming,” Trixie squeaked, thinking the whole thing was far more amusing when she was an onlooker rather than a participant.
“Hosting with my brother,” Honey returned. “Keyword, brother, who my mother also wants to capture on film.” She offered her friend a sweet smile. “Don’t worry, just keep looking at Jim and you should be fine.”
Trixie grimaced. “I deserved that. Okay, let’s both run away.”
Honey giggled. “I think that might be noticed. What if we wear bags over our heads? That way we’ll be impossible to recognise.”
“Right, cause no-one will notice that.” Trixie giggled too. “I guess you should be grateful she isn’t organising some famous Hollywood director to shoot it.”
Honey shuddered. “Don’t you dare say anything in front of her; I’m pretty sure she knows a couple.”
“What are you two up to now?” a voice demanded behind them. Mart Belden slid into a nearby seat and raised his sandy brows questioningly.
The two girls exchanged looks but decided not to let Mart in on their nervousness. Mart might share their feelings, but he’d never admit it, and he’d have way too much fun teasing them about it.
“Di’s piece is sounding great isn’t it?” he said without waiting for an answer, reaching over to swipe one of his sister’s cookies.
Trixie thought about making a pointed remark about his manners, but decided it wasn’t worth it. “It certainly is.”
“It really highlights what those poor people are going through,” Honey added warmly, “and she’ll be the most beautiful thing in the whole show,”
“I think so too, but I know a couple of guys who’d probably disagree with me.” Mart grinned at them, and Trixie suddenly thought how lucky they all were. They had family, and one another, and safe comfortable homes.
“You’re going to do a great job, too,” she said to her brother, who almost dropped the cookie he was holding.
“Who are you and what have you done with my sister?” he asked.
Both girls laughed, but Trixie sobered quickly. “I was just thinking how much better off we are than those poor people in Farradale.”
“I know, every night they show more footage and sometimes it seems to get worse, not better. There are so many sad stories,” Honey said, eyes clouding.
“More and more help is pouring in. It’s really starting to make a difference.” You could always tell when Mart was super-serious, he abandoned his big words and communicated just like a regular person.
“You’re right,” Trixie said briskly. “We just need to get on with it. They need our help more than our pity.”
“Well said, Madam Co-President.” Her brother reached over for another cookie, but Trixie was too quick for him this time. “That’s meant to be my morning snack,” she said haughtily, “not your third meal for the day.”
Mart chose to ignore that and instead turned his attention to Honey. “Hey,” he said, endeavouring to sound casual. “I’ve been meaning to ask you something.”
“What?” Honey asked, turning to face him.
Mart looked slightly uncomfortable. “I just wondered if maybe, I mean I know you’ve got lots to do too, with the show and school, and doing at least one Belden’s share of household chores, but—”
Trixie poked him sharply in the arm, and he moved his chair a little further away.
“What is it, Mart? You know I’ll help if I can.” Honey offered him one of her understanding smiles
“I was kind of hoping you might help me with my costume,” he said hopefully.
Trixie rolled her eyes, but Honey just kept smiling. “I’ve been wondering what to get you for your birthday. So just let me know what you want,” she said.
Mart beamed. “Probably some sort of cloak would do, and maybe something for Di, too, as my assistant, I mean. Miss Darcy’s already helped her organise her outfit for the speech.”
“It sounds like Honey is going to be helping out more than one Belden,” Trixie observed, not completely willing to let his crack about chores go.
“I’ll really owe you,” Mart said with a warm smile for his friend.
“I knew I’d be getting that thread out at some stage,” Honey conceded with a resigned shake of her head. A guilty look stole across Mart’s face, and she grabbed his arm and laughed. “You know how much I love to sew, and believe me this will be your one and only birthday present.”
“It will be a fantastic birthday present,” Mart said. “I consider myself very lucky.”
“We’re just lucky you have as many talents as you do,” Trixie said, flashing the other girl a look of admiration.
“Agreed,” Mart said, and Honey, blushing furiously, began sketching designs on a sheet of paper.
Trixie and Honey frowned as they considered the math problems on the chalkboard in front of them.
Mitch Taylor, a muscular, fair-haired, brown-eyed sixteen-year-old, strolled into class a good ten minutes late. He had quite a reputation at the school. He’d transferred a year earlier, was older than his classmates and, it was rumoured, had done time in a juvenile detention center.
“Nice of you to join us, Mr. Taylor,” Mr. Grayson said.
Trixie couldn’t quite hide her grin at this and as he slid into his seat next to them.
The young man leaned across the desk, a sneer on his face. “It must be tough, this class taking you away from your ’save the universe routine.’ Pity you can’t use those famous would-be cop skills to work out these little problems. Almost as big a pity as the fact that you don’t have even half as many brains as your oldest brother.”
Trixie flushed, and Honey glared at him. “Well you’re in here, too,” the honey-haired girl defended her friend, keeping her voice low.
“So you actually have a spine, Wheeler,” he said scornfully. “Who knew? I thought you let Cagney here or your so-called brother do your talking for you.”
Honey flinched, but Trixie knew it was the young man’s reference to Jim and not his rudeness that bothered her. Besides how tough could he really be, referencing an old TV show?
“At least we’re not repeating an entire year,” Trixie snapped with uncharacteristic spite.
“Let’s pay attention to our sums now, shall we?” Mr. Grayson moved towards them.
Later on that day, Trixie leaned over to hiss in Honey’s ear. “Do you think we should try to drop by the theatre this afternoon, after school?”
Honey shrugged. “Do we need to? You and I and Jim are going to be there for hours tomorrow.”
“But we don’t know if the paint crew will be there then,” Trixie continued, trying to ignore the teacher’s pointed glance.
“What does that matter?” Honey began, then her eyes widened. “We’d better try and convince Jim or Brian we need to go there.”
Trixie nodded. “Let’s just hope they listen.”
BSM: MAIN NEXT
Dana had a lot to work through in this chapter. I can only hope my 'tweaking' afterwards has not turned it into a dog's breakfast. Thanks continue to go to Dana, and to all of you who are kind enough to read and comment. Trixie Belden et al remain the property of Random House. No profit is being made from these scribblings.
Honey blearily opened her eyes and smiled.
Once they were dressed, Trixie reached over to the nightstand for a folder that she passed to Honey. “These are the articles Dad told us about. I’ve just read through them, but I want to see what you think. I’m pretty sure we’ve got time—it’s not even seven yet.”
In silence, Honey scanned the contents of the folder, her brow slightly furrowed. Finally, she looked up. “I don’t think there’s any doubt that the other man really did get away,” she said. “Though if they know that, I don’t see why they don’t just bring him back.”
“We don’t have an extradition treaty with Indonesia,” Trixie said knowledgably.
Honey was impressed. “That makes more sense then, and from what’s here he must have had a least some of the money with him.”
Trixie nodded. “But not necessarily all of it. That sighting at the airport says he checked in no luggage at all—just a carry-on briefcase.”
“You don’t need much space for money, or jewellery,” Honey said.
“I know that,” Trixie admitted, “but in the first account of the robbery it said that more than thirty safe deposit boxes were emptied and that the contents included…” She scrunched up her face trying to remember, and Honey rifled through the papers.
“Here!” She waved the article before quickly scanning it. “Bonds, jewellery, cash, ingots.” A frown crossed her pretty face. “They might not be all that big, but they would be heavy.”
“So you agree that he probably didn’t have all the loot.” Trixie tried to keep the excitement out of her voice but failed completely.
“Maybe not,” Honey conceded, “but he took that flight a couple of hours after the robbery. He could have hidden the stuff anywhere.”
Trixie shrugged. “Fair enough, but I’m definitely keeping my eyes as well as my ears open. And I still think that fourth robber is a real possibility.”
“Agreed, partner,” Honey said. Her frown deepened as she glanced at the grainy photos. “I don’t think I’d recognise either one of these two if they walked right up to me.”
Trixie leaned over and shook her head. “You’re right. Mark Webb and John Smith—can that really be his name? Those stupid beards don’t help either.”
Both criminals sported long tangled hair and thick bushy beards.
“Do you suppose your dad saw them without all this disguise?” Honey asked.
“I don’t know. I can check I guess,” Trixie replied. “But it’s probably not a disguise, as such, just a…” she paused before entreating her friend, “you’d know this better than me, what is it? A style choice?”
“Yuk.” Honey wrinkled her nose. “I prefer my men clean shaven.” She gave her long hair a decided toss.
“No surprise there,” Trixie chuckled. “Look, I’ll ask Dad and maybe we can go over this again tonight, if you come for dinner?”
Honey shook her head. “Sorry, Trix, Dad and Mother arrive home this afternoon, and Jim and I promised we’d definitely be home early and in time for dinner.”
Trixie swallowed her disappointment. “Of course, I knew that. You must be looking forward to seeing them.”
Honey nodded. “I can’t wait.”
Matthew Wheeler poured himself a glass of wine and smiled across the dinner table at his daughter and son. “You two have certainly been busy,” he said.
His wife nodded, tucking a strand of her wavy light brown hair behind her ear. “I can’t believe what you’ve achieved in such a short amount of time. Several of my committees want to do something to help, but none of them are this organised yet.”
The four were gathered in the Wheelers’ smaller and less formal morning room, where they often ate when alone. Baked fish and vegetables had followed cream of asparagus soup, and they were now enjoying lemon meringue pie for dessert.
Jim and Honey were embarrassed by their parents’ words of praise, and the former shrugged. “We really haven’t done that much.”
“Everyone wants to help so that’s made it so much easier,” Honey added.
“Well, I’m proud of you both, of all the Bob-Whites,” Mr. Wheeler said.
“And your father and I want to do something to contribute.” Mrs. Wheeler smiled at them both.
Honey and Jim exchanged looks. “You can buy some tickets,” Jim said.
“Of course, but we thought we could do a little more.”
Honey shifted slightly in her chair. “Miss Trask, Regan and Celia have all promised to help, and that might mean taking some time off, so that’s helping already.”
“After all, it is a Bob-White project, and we do want to do as much of the work ourselves as possible.” Jim didn’t want to sound unappreciative, but neither he nor Honey liked to take advantage of their family’s money.
“That goes without saying.” Mrs. Wheeler suppressed a smile as she spoke, trying to imagine her own wealthy conservative parents’ reaction had she been so independent as a teenager.
“However,” Matthew Wheeler fixed both young people with a pointed stare before continuing, this is the kind of project where any number of people want to be involved, so hear me out at least.”
Jim and Honey nodded, and the latter added, “It isn’t that we aren’t grateful, Daddy. You know that, don’t you?”
Her father nodded back, wondering, not for the first time, how this girl, whom he felt they’d neglected as a child, had become so thoughtful and considerate. “As you both know, I have extensive business holdings, and over the past few years I’ve invested in several companies here in Sleepyside.” He paused to take a sip of wine. “I’m sure they’d be interested in buying advertising space in your program.”
“Gee, Dad, that would be great,” Jim said swiftly.
His father held up a hand to forestall him. “I also think that the local Chamber of Commerce would like to set up a reciprocal donation plan for the benefit.”
Honey frowned. “What’s that?”
“We would match the funds raised by the benefit thus doubling your donation amount.”
“It’s quite a common practice in major fundraising,” Mrs. Wheeler added, seeing the uncertainty on her children’s faces.
Jim hooked a brow in his sister’s direction, and she shrugged her slim shoulders.
“It sounds amazing,” Jim admitted. “But I’d like to talk it over with the other Bob-Whites, just to be sure.”
Mr. Wheeler smiled. “Of course you would, but I’m fairly certain they’ll agree. I spoke to Peter Belden myself just after we got back, and I think the bank may offer something similar. Funds are easier for agencies to manage when they come in all together.”
“It does make sense. Don’t you think, Jim?” Honey asked.
Her brother grinned. “It seems to. We’ll get on it tomorrow.”
Their parents exchanged relieved glances, and while they finished their meal, they relayed all the details of their recent trip.
The following day saw more ticket sales, more sign ups and more advertising purchases. Knowing that things were about to get even busier, the BWGs did their best to get ahead with their chores. On Friday morning, as soon as Trixie’s biology class had finished, she hurried to the cafeteria where Honey was waiting for her. She slumped down next to her friend, her blue eyes dancing excitedly. “Finally, we can talk,” she said. Trixie had been dying to talk to Honey all morning, but the two hadn’t had a chance as they had been in separate classes and, on the way to school, Di had begged them to hear her rehearse her piece.
“I know. I’ve been dying to talk to you, too,” Honey admitted. “But I’m so glad we got to hear Di this morning. I could never do what she’s doing,” she added, recalling how impressed they’d been earlier that morning.
“Di, you’re just wonderful,” Trixie enthused from her position beside at the rear of the station wagon. “You and Miss Darcy make a great a team.”
The young drama teacher had been helping Diana during lunch breaks and had obviously been more than successful.
“You really think it works?” Di asked, her expression hopeful.
“It’s wonderful!” Trixie declared.
“Stupendous, remarkable, resplendent, breathtaking—”
“Stop it, Mart, please,” Diana begged.
“I’m just speaking the truth,” Mart said, though he knew his words had embarrassed her a little.
“He is right,” Brian put in. “You sound great, Di.”
“It was a terrific idea to include stories from those affected.” Dan said.
“It almost makes me cry,” Honey admitted, “but it’s like little snippets of hope and somehow that makes it inspiring.”
“Oh, that would be a great name for Di’s piece,” Trixie said, blue eyes sparkling.
“Snippets of Hope,” Jim repeated. “Sounds good to me.”
“Me, too,” Di agreed, her own violet eyes shining.
Everyone nodded their agreement and a very happy Diana breathed a sigh of relief as she exited the Bob-White station wagon when they’d arrived at school.
“If everyone’s as good as Di, we’ll have a hit on our hands,” Trixie had obviously been thinking about their friend’s performance, too. “Now,” she said, ‘”about you father’s plan.”
“So you’re okay with it?” Honey’s hazel eyes were hopeful.
“Of course,” her friend assured her. “Dad explained it last night. I didn’t actually follow all of it,” she admitted with a grin, “but Brian seemed to think it was a good idea, and you know what that means.”
Honey nodded. “Jim reacted the same way. He said the most important thing was raising the money, and that we were still going to organise everything ourselves. Daddy did offer to pay for all the food and drinks, but Jim said he wanted to wait until Brian had spoken to the local business people. Plus, we still have some money in the Bob-White treasury, and we’d rather use that.”
“Brian said the same thing to Moms when she offered to take care of most of the food. In the end they compromised. She’s going to make trays of her chocolate chip cookies and some mini apple pies.”
“Yummy yum,” Honey said. She was very familiar with both of these Belden staples.
“Hopefully, today we can talk to the people who want to volunteer to work on the night of the show rather than be in it.” Trixie chewed the end of her pencil, and Honey handed her friend a list of names of those who’d expressed an interest in helping.
“Oh, good, Jane Morgan’s put her name down,” Trixie said. “She’s a terrific organiser when she’s not trying to sabotage anyone.”
Honey laughed. “She’s been a real friend to Di since. She even helped her work on her speech.”
Trixie nodded. “You know, we are going to be pretty busy. Jim and I have only just worked out our opening and haven’t even started planning what we’ll say between acts, and you and Dan and Brian still have to work on your song. Plus you’ll probably end up co-ordinating the refreshments, and Mart and Di are both busy—she’s going to assist him with his magic act and…”
Honey held up her hands in a gesture of surrender. “Promise me there’s a point in there somewhere! You’re making me dizzy just thinking about how much we have to do!”
“Sorry,” Trixie chuckled. “Usually you understand my ramblings.”
“I understood you fine,” Honey said. “I just don’t get it, that’s all.” She paused, seeing her friend’s amused expression, and offered an answering grin of her own. “Okay, I’m not making much sense either, but apart from trying to give me a panic attack, what was your point?”
“Maybe Jane could organise the volunteer ushers for us?” Trixie suggested.
“That’s a terrific idea.” Honey’s response was enthusiastic. “I got the feeling the other day that she wanted to do something extra, but she’s still getting over that nasty virus so she really didn’t want to be in the show. This should be perfect.”
“I think so, too,” Trixie said. “Thank goodness it’s almost the weekend again. We’ve got nine acts coming in tomorrow to try out the space, and I don’t know why, but I’m really nervous.”
“I would be nervous about that, but I’m too busy being nervous about being one of them.” Honey gave her golden head a shake.
Trixie grinned. “That’s right, ten acts then. You know you’re sounding pretty good, all three of you.”
Honey shrugged. “At your house, with just your family and the Bob-Whites. I haven’t even sung in front of my own mother.”
“She’ll love it. You know she will.” Trixie leaned over to give her friend a reassuring pat on the shoulder.
“She keeps talking about getting some professional something or another to film it,” Honey gulped, hazel eyes wide. “It’ll be out there for all eternity.”
Trixie laughed outright. “Cheer up! You can just keep on looking at Brian, that shouldn’t prove too difficult for you.”
Honey wrinkled her nose. “You’ll be on the DVD too, so don’t get too smart,” she warned.
“But I’m just hosting, that’s not worth filming,” Trixie squeaked, thinking the whole thing was far more amusing when she was an onlooker rather than a participant.
“Hosting with my brother,” Honey returned. “Keyword, brother, who my mother also wants to capture on film.” She offered her friend a sweet smile. “Don’t worry, just keep looking at Jim and you should be fine.”
Trixie grimaced. “I deserved that. Okay, let’s both run away.”
Honey giggled. “I think that might be noticed. What if we wear bags over our heads? That way we’ll be impossible to recognise.”
“Right, cause no-one will notice that.” Trixie giggled too. “I guess you should be grateful she isn’t organising some famous Hollywood director to shoot it.”
Honey shuddered. “Don’t you dare say anything in front of her; I’m pretty sure she knows a couple.”
“What are you two up to now?” a voice demanded behind them. Mart Belden slid into a nearby seat and raised his sandy brows questioningly.
The two girls exchanged looks but decided not to let Mart in on their nervousness. Mart might share their feelings, but he’d never admit it, and he’d have way too much fun teasing them about it.
“Di’s piece is sounding great isn’t it?” he said without waiting for an answer, reaching over to swipe one of his sister’s cookies.
Trixie thought about making a pointed remark about his manners, but decided it wasn’t worth it. “It certainly is.”
“It really highlights what those poor people are going through,” Honey added warmly, “and she’ll be the most beautiful thing in the whole show,”
“I think so too, but I know a couple of guys who’d probably disagree with me.” Mart grinned at them, and Trixie suddenly thought how lucky they all were. They had family, and one another, and safe comfortable homes.
“You’re going to do a great job, too,” she said to her brother, who almost dropped the cookie he was holding.
“Who are you and what have you done with my sister?” he asked.
Both girls laughed, but Trixie sobered quickly. “I was just thinking how much better off we are than those poor people in Farradale.”
“I know, every night they show more footage and sometimes it seems to get worse, not better. There are so many sad stories,” Honey said, eyes clouding.
“More and more help is pouring in. It’s really starting to make a difference.” You could always tell when Mart was super-serious, he abandoned his big words and communicated just like a regular person.
“You’re right,” Trixie said briskly. “We just need to get on with it. They need our help more than our pity.”
“Well said, Madam Co-President.” Her brother reached over for another cookie, but Trixie was too quick for him this time. “That’s meant to be my morning snack,” she said haughtily, “not your third meal for the day.”
Mart chose to ignore that and instead turned his attention to Honey. “Hey,” he said, endeavouring to sound casual. “I’ve been meaning to ask you something.”
“What?” Honey asked, turning to face him.
Mart looked slightly uncomfortable. “I just wondered if maybe, I mean I know you’ve got lots to do too, with the show and school, and doing at least one Belden’s share of household chores, but—”
Trixie poked him sharply in the arm, and he moved his chair a little further away.
“What is it, Mart? You know I’ll help if I can.” Honey offered him one of her understanding smiles
“I was kind of hoping you might help me with my costume,” he said hopefully.
Trixie rolled her eyes, but Honey just kept smiling. “I’ve been wondering what to get you for your birthday. So just let me know what you want,” she said.
Mart beamed. “Probably some sort of cloak would do, and maybe something for Di, too, as my assistant, I mean. Miss Darcy’s already helped her organise her outfit for the speech.”
“It sounds like Honey is going to be helping out more than one Belden,” Trixie observed, not completely willing to let his crack about chores go.
“I’ll really owe you,” Mart said with a warm smile for his friend.
“I knew I’d be getting that thread out at some stage,” Honey conceded with a resigned shake of her head. A guilty look stole across Mart’s face, and she grabbed his arm and laughed. “You know how much I love to sew, and believe me this will be your one and only birthday present.”
“It will be a fantastic birthday present,” Mart said. “I consider myself very lucky.”
“We’re just lucky you have as many talents as you do,” Trixie said, flashing the other girl a look of admiration.
“Agreed,” Mart said, and Honey, blushing furiously, began sketching designs on a sheet of paper.
Trixie and Honey frowned as they considered the math problems on the chalkboard in front of them.
Mitch Taylor, a muscular, fair-haired, brown-eyed sixteen-year-old, strolled into class a good ten minutes late. He had quite a reputation at the school. He’d transferred a year earlier, was older than his classmates and, it was rumoured, had done time in a juvenile detention center.
“Nice of you to join us, Mr. Taylor,” Mr. Grayson said.
Trixie couldn’t quite hide her grin at this and as he slid into his seat next to them.
The young man leaned across the desk, a sneer on his face. “It must be tough, this class taking you away from your ’save the universe routine.’ Pity you can’t use those famous would-be cop skills to work out these little problems. Almost as big a pity as the fact that you don’t have even half as many brains as your oldest brother.”
Trixie flushed, and Honey glared at him. “Well you’re in here, too,” the honey-haired girl defended her friend, keeping her voice low.
“So you actually have a spine, Wheeler,” he said scornfully. “Who knew? I thought you let Cagney here or your so-called brother do your talking for you.”
Honey flinched, but Trixie knew it was the young man’s reference to Jim and not his rudeness that bothered her. Besides how tough could he really be, referencing an old TV show?
“At least we’re not repeating an entire year,” Trixie snapped with uncharacteristic spite.
“Let’s pay attention to our sums now, shall we?” Mr. Grayson moved towards them.
Later on that day, Trixie leaned over to hiss in Honey’s ear. “Do you think we should try to drop by the theatre this afternoon, after school?”
Honey shrugged. “Do we need to? You and I and Jim are going to be there for hours tomorrow.”
“But we don’t know if the paint crew will be there then,” Trixie continued, trying to ignore the teacher’s pointed glance.
“What does that matter?” Honey began, then her eyes widened. “We’d better try and convince Jim or Brian we need to go there.”
Trixie nodded. “Let’s just hope they listen.”
BSM: MAIN NEXT
Dana had a lot to work through in this chapter. I can only hope my 'tweaking' afterwards has not turned it into a dog's breakfast. Thanks continue to go to Dana, and to all of you who are kind enough to read and comment. Trixie Belden et al remain the property of Random House. No profit is being made from these scribblings.
