Chapter One: Disaster Relief
This story is rated blue star and suitable for all ages.
Fifteen-year-old Trixie Belden’s sandy curls bounced as she slammed her locker shut. A frown marred her usually cheerful face, and she turned to meet the anxious gaze of her best friend, Honey Wheeler.
“How are we supposed to fix this and get all our work done when there’s only six weeks left of term?” she demanded. Only six weeks left until Jim and Brian finish high school forever, she wanted to add, but knowing that that particular topic of conversation would distract Honey from their current purpose, she resolutely ignored the impulse.
Honey shrugged and pushed her golden hair away from her forehead. “I wish I knew, Trix, but we have to do something. Those poor people, I can’t even imagine how awful they must feel.”
“Yes, you can,” Trixie corrected, her frown disappearing. “You always think about how the other person feels. Brian says it’s one of the things that makes you special. You’re not just sympathetic, you’re…” she hesitated, wrinkling her nose slightly, “empathetic.”
Honey blushed slightly at this mention of Trixie’s seventeen-year-old brother Brian and smiled. “I’m not sure if that makes me special, but...” She shrugged her shoulders again. “It certainly makes me want to do something to help the victims of Hurricane Laura.”
Trixie nodded, blue eyes concerned. “I think we should call an emergency meeting of the Bob-Whites.”
The Bob-Whites of the Glen was a semi-secret club that both girls belonged to. Other members included their brothers, classmate, pretty Diana Lynch, and Dan Mangan, nephew of the Wheelers’ groom.
“There’s Dan now,” Honey said, catching sight of the thin-faced, dark-haired young man. “Let’s tell him and he can let Mart know. We’ll tell Di in history, and that just means catching Jim and Brian before the end of the day.”
Trixie nodded, and the young girls hurried over to their friend.
It was a little after three-thirty when the Bob-Whites gathered in their clubhouse, which was located on the edge of the Wheeler game preserve. It had been a tumbledown shack when they had found it a couple of years earlier. Although Honey’s father gladly would have paid for any amount of renovations, the young people had been determined to organise everything themselves. Working together, it had taken hours and hours of labour and love to turn it into the cozy meeting place it was today. The May afternoon was still bright, and the light shone cheerfully through the cottage windows.
As soon as Brian and Jim arrived and slid into their seats, Trixie banged a makeshift gavel on the conference table, doing her best to look professional.
“I call this meeting of the Bob-Whites of the Glen to order,” she said. “As you may or may not have heard our sister town of Farradale, Florida was hit early this morning by Hurricane Laura.”
“May or may not have heard?” Mart snorted and raised a sandy brow in disbelief. “It’s been on every major news service, local and national, as well as in all the afternoon papers.” Even though he was less than a year older than his sister, he often teased or questioned her.
Although she knew her brother was right, Trixie bristled at his words. After all, she had seen those reports herself at lunchtime. She’d been shocked and horrified at the image—buildings completely destroyed, debris and chaos everywhere, and the stunned, devastated expressions of those wandering among the rubble. It had brought tender-hearted Honey close to tears. Fixing her brother with a glare, she immediately opened her mouth to retort.
Brian, dark haired and handsome, held up his hand in protest, “This is not the ideal time for a Belden-Belden squabble fest; people are in real trouble.”
As usual, the calming, serious words of the eldest Bob-White had the desired effect.
“Right,” Trixie said, shooting him a quick look of gratitude. “We think, that is Honey and I think, that we ought to try and raise some money for the relief fund.”
There was a general murmur of agreement as each of the young people contemplated the enormity of what had happened.
“Already, there are emergency workers and medical personnel on the ground,” Brian said. “That’s the sort of thing I hope I can do when I’m a doctor.”
The others nodded. They were all aware of Brian’s long-held ambition for a career in medicine, and they all knew how well-suited he was to its demands.
“That’s one of the hardest things in a situation like this,” redheaded Jim Frayne noted. “There are so many agencies involved in coordinating rescue efforts that it’s hard to make sure the right help gets to the right people. And the same goes for the funds raised.”
“Before we get all carried away with where our money ends up, we might want to come up with a way of making it,” Mart said.
Dan looked at Trixie expectantly. “Any ideas, Trix?”
Trixie wrinkled her nose and she and Honey exchanged rueful glances. “Not exactly,” she admitted. “I mean, we’ve had an antique show and an ice carnival.”
“And a bazaar and a bikeathon,” black-haired Di added.
“And a pet show and a vintage car show,” Mart finished. “I don’t want to incur the wrath of my esteemed elder sibling, but we already know what we’ve already done. The question is, what now?”
“He’s got a point,” Jim said, green eyes serious. “We’ve done so many things it’s hard to come up with something new.”
“Let’s all just think for a few minutes,” Honey suggested, “and while we do, I’ll get the snacks ready.”
The Bob-Whites brightened at her words, especially Mart who always put eating at the top of his favourite things list. As Honey began to unpack dips, crackers, cut-up vegetables and fresh fruit, frowns of concentration crossed the brows of her friends.
“You know,” Mart said, when Honey had finished laying out the tasty treats. “I say, forget raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens. My favourite things definitely include smoked salmon dip and crisp cheesy crackers.” He half sang the last few words, and laughter followed his remark.
Trixie suddenly began waving her arms and bouncing up and down in her seat. “Oh,” she cried. “It’s perfect, absolutely perfect.”
“I know I’m going to regret this,” Brian said, his dark eyes resigned. “But what is perfect?”
“A benefit show,” Trixie breathed. “People love to sing and dance and, better than that, people love to watch their kids sing and dance. Plus, we can have novelty acts, all sorts of things.”
“Trixie’s right,” Honey said, supporting her friend. “We could maybe charge a fee to advertise in our programme, but make most of the money from the actual tickets.”
“You know,” Dan added. “It is a pretty good idea. All we really need is a venue ‘cause it’s BYO talent.”
“I’m sure Mr. Mooney and Miss Darcy would be glad to help; they both mentioned the hurricane today,” Di said, referring to the school’s music and drama teachers.
“You’ll have to do a soliloquy,” Mart suggested, as he helped himself to a piece of celery and covered it with French onion dip.
Di’s violet eyes widened. “Oh, no, I couldn’t do that.”
Brian frowned. “I don’t see how we could promote a benefit show for charity, without being prepared to make fools of ourselves in it!”
“Speak for yourself, buddy.” Mart glowered at his brother. “Miss Lynch is an accomplished thespian and in no danger whatsoever of appearing foolish.”
"That’s not what I meant,” Brian said frowning at Mart before turning to Diana. “You know I think you did a terrific job in Romeo and Juliet, don’t you, Di?”
Diana nodded. “You were all so supportive, I’ll never forget it,” she hesitated. “Do you really think I could do something?”
“Of course,” Honey said swiftly. “You’ll definitely be a highlight, and it will be much easier to convince people to participate if we have acts lined up.”
“Agreed,” Mart grinned. “And on that note, I believe it’s time to resurrect ‘Mart the Mysterious Manipulator of Magic’.”
Trixie and Brian groaned, but the other Bob-Whites crowed with delight.
“You’ll be wonderful,” Di said smiling.
“Two down.” Mart raised his glass of Coke, tone challenging.
“I think Trix and I, as co-presidents, should co-host the show,” Jim offered.
Trixie nodded immediately. “That’s a terrific idea,” she said beaming, secretly glad she wouldn’t have to sing, dance or worse still, learn actual lines. Hosting things, with Jim by her side, that sounded like fun.
“Why am I not surprised that an evening spent by Jim’s side is your idea of fun?” Mart queried playfully.
Trixie pointedly ignored him.
“That just leaves the three of us, “ Dan said, with a look at Brian and Honey. “Wanna do a Three Stooges routine?”
Honey wrinkled her nose at him, but Brian grinned.
“Two stooges then,” Dan laughed.
“That’s not an act, that’s a new reality TV series,” Mart said, blue eyes mischievous.
“No, you can’t,” Honey cried, hazel eyes wide with alarm. “What would I do? I’m not good at anything!”
Several Bob-Whites opened their mouths to speak but Honey cut them off. “If any one of you mentions swimming or needlework, I’ll tie myself up in thread and throw myself in the lake.”
They all laughed at this, though both Trixie and Brian made signs of protest.
“You’d probably work your way out of it,” Dan said
“Anyway we can’t risk all that thread unravelling and catching on stuff and causing problems,” Jim added, green eyes twinkling.
“It’ll be awful if I’m the only one who doesn’t contribute,” Honey said, biting her bottom lip.
“Hey, I was just kidding about the stooges thing,” Dan said, hating to see his friend upset. “Brian and I probably couldn’t be funny if we tried.”
“Why not?” Mart demanded. “You’re both pretty funny without trying.”
“You can talk,” Brian snapped back.
“Yes, since I was a very small child actually.” Mart looked smug. “I believe I was a bit of a prodigy.”
“Honey, can I borrow some of that thread?” Brian asked looking from his brother to a now giggling Honey.
Throughout this exchange, Trixie, Jim and Dan had all hooted and laughed but Diana had remained quiet. Now, she half-raised her hand and gave a slight cough.
Jim grinned at her, “You don’t need to raise your hand to speak at a Bob-White meeting, Di.”
In response she shrugged her slim shoulders. “I wasn’t sure if those two were ever going to stop.”
Mart and Brian looked vaguely ashamed and Brian shook his head, “Sorry, Di, pretty poor effort on my part, especially when I pulled Mart and Trix up for the same thing earlier.”
“Exactly,” Trixie said, taking control again. “What’s your idea, Di?”
Diana smiled around at the group. “Honey can sing a song, or at least she and Brian can do a duet and Dan’s playing so well lately that he can accompany them on the piano.”
“What?” Honey’s voice was at least an octave higher than normal. “What do you mean, I can sing a song?”
“It’s a great idea; Di’s doing a solil—whatever, speech, Mart’s got his magic act, Jim and I are running things, we need a musical number,” Trixie enthused.
“I’ll need intensive care if you send me out there,” Honey wailed.
Dan grinned. “Well, Brian can probably manage mouth to mouth. Would that do?”
Honey turned bright red and threw the carrot stick she had been about to eat at him.
“Oh, come on, Honey,” Trixie begged. “We used to sing a lot and we always had a good time, and you probably have the nicest voice.”
“That was at home or around a campfire, and I haven’t got a nicer voice than the rest of you,” Honey said, desperately looking from one friend to the other.
“Mr. Mooney gives you solos all the time,” Di reminded her.
The music teacher had only been at the school since the beginning of that semester but his enthusiasm for his subject was contagious and all three girls had joined the school choir and were enjoying themselves thoroughly.
“A line or two,” Honey muttered.
“That’s right,” Trixie added. “He says you have, what is it?” She hooked a sandy brow in Di’s direction.
“A lovely vibrato,” they said together.
“Well, I’m willing to give it go if Honey and Dan are,” Brian said, smiling across at his friend. “Though I’m not sure how lovely my vibrato is.”
Dan nodded. He had started taking piano lessons some time ago and had a natural talent for it. “I’m game, if I put in plenty of practise and you don’t choose something too complicated.”
They all turned their attention to Honey.
“ I give up, I’m out numbered and out-manoeuvred and I did ask for this,” she said, though her hazel eyes were doubtful.
“Done and done,” Jim said, and Trixie banged her gavel with glee.
“Now, let’s start making lists of what we need to do”
“Number one: the Belden-Wheeler Detective Agency needs to take a vacation for the duration. We won’t have the time to run around after one of Trixie or Honey’s imaginary mysteries,” Mart said.
Trixie glared at her brother and even mild-tempered Honey flared indignantly. “Imaginary!” they said as one.
Ever since they had first met, the two girls had become embroiled in one adventure after the other, often placing themselves in significant danger.
“Our mysteries are one hundred percent real,” Trixie said, while Honey nodded vigorously.
“Mr. Maypenny’s a poacher?” Mart taunted
“That was one time.” His sister spoke through gritted teeth.
“Harrison’s a thief,” Mart continued.
Trixie fought to hold on to her temper.
“Ben or was that Mr. Schulz—” Mart began.
“You stop right there, Mart Belden!” Honey cried, interrupting him. “Our ‘imaginary mysteries’, as you call them, have caught gun runners and jewel smugglers, as well as counterfeiters and con men, women, people.” She shook her golden head. “Oh, you all know what I mean.”
“We certainly do,” Trixie said, proud of her friend’s defence of their work. She fixed her almost twin with a glare. “You’re often sceptical when Honey and I first raise something, but we’re usually right,”
“I’m just saying, let’s not get distracted,” Mart pleaded. “I know you two have a flair for this stuff, but even you have to admit you sometimes see mysteries where there aren’t any.”
“Well, all I know,” Jim said in a quiet tone, “is that a couple of those mysteries gave me the best friends a guy could ever hope to have and a family that is anything but imaginary.”
They all paused to remember Jim’s terrible life with his cruel stepfather before he came to Sleepyside in search of his great uncle.
Dan nodded his dark head. “I kind of want to jump in here, too. Trixie helped me to understand I could make different choices and Honey was the first person to be really kind to me in ages.”
å
Mart looked somewhat shamefaced at this. “I’m sorry, I know Trix and Honey have helped heaps of people.” He actually had a lot of respect for his sister’s instincts; teasing was just a habit.
“We all have,” Trixie said briskly. “I guess Honey and I can promise to make this our number one priority.”
“ I’m less worried about mysteries than I am about schoolwork. Are you boys really going to have time for all this?” Honey asked. “You’ve got college to prepare for and your trip coming up.” She broke off as Jim reached over to ruffle her hair.
“Let us worry about that, little sister, we’ve done our SATs and you all have finals, but we can squeeze this in too. In lots of ways Brian and I are in a better position than the rest of you, especially if you girls don’t shine in your new math class. We’re pretty much winding down in most of our classes.”
Brian nodded. “Honestly, Honey, if Jim and I were depending on our last six weeks at high school to decide our future, then we’d be in real trouble.”
Satisfied, they began making plans in earnest.
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Author's notes: I wrote this story almost ten years ago (although I've played around with it since) I wanted to write a story that preceded Missing Bob-Whites, was set in Sleepyside and uber-traditional. Again, this was influenced by my feelings for several of the last Trixies published. My undying thanks to Dana for her awesome editing, endless patience and friendship— all errors and things askew are mine and mine alone.
Trixie Belden et al belong to Random House and not to me (though that hardly seems fair) no profit is being made from these scribblings
“How are we supposed to fix this and get all our work done when there’s only six weeks left of term?” she demanded. Only six weeks left until Jim and Brian finish high school forever, she wanted to add, but knowing that that particular topic of conversation would distract Honey from their current purpose, she resolutely ignored the impulse.
Honey shrugged and pushed her golden hair away from her forehead. “I wish I knew, Trix, but we have to do something. Those poor people, I can’t even imagine how awful they must feel.”
“Yes, you can,” Trixie corrected, her frown disappearing. “You always think about how the other person feels. Brian says it’s one of the things that makes you special. You’re not just sympathetic, you’re…” she hesitated, wrinkling her nose slightly, “empathetic.”
Honey blushed slightly at this mention of Trixie’s seventeen-year-old brother Brian and smiled. “I’m not sure if that makes me special, but...” She shrugged her shoulders again. “It certainly makes me want to do something to help the victims of Hurricane Laura.”
Trixie nodded, blue eyes concerned. “I think we should call an emergency meeting of the Bob-Whites.”
The Bob-Whites of the Glen was a semi-secret club that both girls belonged to. Other members included their brothers, classmate, pretty Diana Lynch, and Dan Mangan, nephew of the Wheelers’ groom.
“There’s Dan now,” Honey said, catching sight of the thin-faced, dark-haired young man. “Let’s tell him and he can let Mart know. We’ll tell Di in history, and that just means catching Jim and Brian before the end of the day.”
Trixie nodded, and the young girls hurried over to their friend.
It was a little after three-thirty when the Bob-Whites gathered in their clubhouse, which was located on the edge of the Wheeler game preserve. It had been a tumbledown shack when they had found it a couple of years earlier. Although Honey’s father gladly would have paid for any amount of renovations, the young people had been determined to organise everything themselves. Working together, it had taken hours and hours of labour and love to turn it into the cozy meeting place it was today. The May afternoon was still bright, and the light shone cheerfully through the cottage windows.
As soon as Brian and Jim arrived and slid into their seats, Trixie banged a makeshift gavel on the conference table, doing her best to look professional.
“I call this meeting of the Bob-Whites of the Glen to order,” she said. “As you may or may not have heard our sister town of Farradale, Florida was hit early this morning by Hurricane Laura.”
“May or may not have heard?” Mart snorted and raised a sandy brow in disbelief. “It’s been on every major news service, local and national, as well as in all the afternoon papers.” Even though he was less than a year older than his sister, he often teased or questioned her.
Although she knew her brother was right, Trixie bristled at his words. After all, she had seen those reports herself at lunchtime. She’d been shocked and horrified at the image—buildings completely destroyed, debris and chaos everywhere, and the stunned, devastated expressions of those wandering among the rubble. It had brought tender-hearted Honey close to tears. Fixing her brother with a glare, she immediately opened her mouth to retort.
Brian, dark haired and handsome, held up his hand in protest, “This is not the ideal time for a Belden-Belden squabble fest; people are in real trouble.”
As usual, the calming, serious words of the eldest Bob-White had the desired effect.
“Right,” Trixie said, shooting him a quick look of gratitude. “We think, that is Honey and I think, that we ought to try and raise some money for the relief fund.”
There was a general murmur of agreement as each of the young people contemplated the enormity of what had happened.
“Already, there are emergency workers and medical personnel on the ground,” Brian said. “That’s the sort of thing I hope I can do when I’m a doctor.”
The others nodded. They were all aware of Brian’s long-held ambition for a career in medicine, and they all knew how well-suited he was to its demands.
“That’s one of the hardest things in a situation like this,” redheaded Jim Frayne noted. “There are so many agencies involved in coordinating rescue efforts that it’s hard to make sure the right help gets to the right people. And the same goes for the funds raised.”
“Before we get all carried away with where our money ends up, we might want to come up with a way of making it,” Mart said.
Dan looked at Trixie expectantly. “Any ideas, Trix?”
Trixie wrinkled her nose and she and Honey exchanged rueful glances. “Not exactly,” she admitted. “I mean, we’ve had an antique show and an ice carnival.”
“And a bazaar and a bikeathon,” black-haired Di added.
“And a pet show and a vintage car show,” Mart finished. “I don’t want to incur the wrath of my esteemed elder sibling, but we already know what we’ve already done. The question is, what now?”
“He’s got a point,” Jim said, green eyes serious. “We’ve done so many things it’s hard to come up with something new.”
“Let’s all just think for a few minutes,” Honey suggested, “and while we do, I’ll get the snacks ready.”
The Bob-Whites brightened at her words, especially Mart who always put eating at the top of his favourite things list. As Honey began to unpack dips, crackers, cut-up vegetables and fresh fruit, frowns of concentration crossed the brows of her friends.
“You know,” Mart said, when Honey had finished laying out the tasty treats. “I say, forget raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens. My favourite things definitely include smoked salmon dip and crisp cheesy crackers.” He half sang the last few words, and laughter followed his remark.
Trixie suddenly began waving her arms and bouncing up and down in her seat. “Oh,” she cried. “It’s perfect, absolutely perfect.”
“I know I’m going to regret this,” Brian said, his dark eyes resigned. “But what is perfect?”
“A benefit show,” Trixie breathed. “People love to sing and dance and, better than that, people love to watch their kids sing and dance. Plus, we can have novelty acts, all sorts of things.”
“Trixie’s right,” Honey said, supporting her friend. “We could maybe charge a fee to advertise in our programme, but make most of the money from the actual tickets.”
“You know,” Dan added. “It is a pretty good idea. All we really need is a venue ‘cause it’s BYO talent.”
“I’m sure Mr. Mooney and Miss Darcy would be glad to help; they both mentioned the hurricane today,” Di said, referring to the school’s music and drama teachers.
“You’ll have to do a soliloquy,” Mart suggested, as he helped himself to a piece of celery and covered it with French onion dip.
Di’s violet eyes widened. “Oh, no, I couldn’t do that.”
Brian frowned. “I don’t see how we could promote a benefit show for charity, without being prepared to make fools of ourselves in it!”
“Speak for yourself, buddy.” Mart glowered at his brother. “Miss Lynch is an accomplished thespian and in no danger whatsoever of appearing foolish.”
"That’s not what I meant,” Brian said frowning at Mart before turning to Diana. “You know I think you did a terrific job in Romeo and Juliet, don’t you, Di?”
Diana nodded. “You were all so supportive, I’ll never forget it,” she hesitated. “Do you really think I could do something?”
“Of course,” Honey said swiftly. “You’ll definitely be a highlight, and it will be much easier to convince people to participate if we have acts lined up.”
“Agreed,” Mart grinned. “And on that note, I believe it’s time to resurrect ‘Mart the Mysterious Manipulator of Magic’.”
Trixie and Brian groaned, but the other Bob-Whites crowed with delight.
“You’ll be wonderful,” Di said smiling.
“Two down.” Mart raised his glass of Coke, tone challenging.
“I think Trix and I, as co-presidents, should co-host the show,” Jim offered.
Trixie nodded immediately. “That’s a terrific idea,” she said beaming, secretly glad she wouldn’t have to sing, dance or worse still, learn actual lines. Hosting things, with Jim by her side, that sounded like fun.
“Why am I not surprised that an evening spent by Jim’s side is your idea of fun?” Mart queried playfully.
Trixie pointedly ignored him.
“That just leaves the three of us, “ Dan said, with a look at Brian and Honey. “Wanna do a Three Stooges routine?”
Honey wrinkled her nose at him, but Brian grinned.
“Two stooges then,” Dan laughed.
“That’s not an act, that’s a new reality TV series,” Mart said, blue eyes mischievous.
“No, you can’t,” Honey cried, hazel eyes wide with alarm. “What would I do? I’m not good at anything!”
Several Bob-Whites opened their mouths to speak but Honey cut them off. “If any one of you mentions swimming or needlework, I’ll tie myself up in thread and throw myself in the lake.”
They all laughed at this, though both Trixie and Brian made signs of protest.
“You’d probably work your way out of it,” Dan said
“Anyway we can’t risk all that thread unravelling and catching on stuff and causing problems,” Jim added, green eyes twinkling.
“It’ll be awful if I’m the only one who doesn’t contribute,” Honey said, biting her bottom lip.
“Hey, I was just kidding about the stooges thing,” Dan said, hating to see his friend upset. “Brian and I probably couldn’t be funny if we tried.”
“Why not?” Mart demanded. “You’re both pretty funny without trying.”
“You can talk,” Brian snapped back.
“Yes, since I was a very small child actually.” Mart looked smug. “I believe I was a bit of a prodigy.”
“Honey, can I borrow some of that thread?” Brian asked looking from his brother to a now giggling Honey.
Throughout this exchange, Trixie, Jim and Dan had all hooted and laughed but Diana had remained quiet. Now, she half-raised her hand and gave a slight cough.
Jim grinned at her, “You don’t need to raise your hand to speak at a Bob-White meeting, Di.”
In response she shrugged her slim shoulders. “I wasn’t sure if those two were ever going to stop.”
Mart and Brian looked vaguely ashamed and Brian shook his head, “Sorry, Di, pretty poor effort on my part, especially when I pulled Mart and Trix up for the same thing earlier.”
“Exactly,” Trixie said, taking control again. “What’s your idea, Di?”
Diana smiled around at the group. “Honey can sing a song, or at least she and Brian can do a duet and Dan’s playing so well lately that he can accompany them on the piano.”
“What?” Honey’s voice was at least an octave higher than normal. “What do you mean, I can sing a song?”
“It’s a great idea; Di’s doing a solil—whatever, speech, Mart’s got his magic act, Jim and I are running things, we need a musical number,” Trixie enthused.
“I’ll need intensive care if you send me out there,” Honey wailed.
Dan grinned. “Well, Brian can probably manage mouth to mouth. Would that do?”
Honey turned bright red and threw the carrot stick she had been about to eat at him.
“Oh, come on, Honey,” Trixie begged. “We used to sing a lot and we always had a good time, and you probably have the nicest voice.”
“That was at home or around a campfire, and I haven’t got a nicer voice than the rest of you,” Honey said, desperately looking from one friend to the other.
“Mr. Mooney gives you solos all the time,” Di reminded her.
The music teacher had only been at the school since the beginning of that semester but his enthusiasm for his subject was contagious and all three girls had joined the school choir and were enjoying themselves thoroughly.
“A line or two,” Honey muttered.
“That’s right,” Trixie added. “He says you have, what is it?” She hooked a sandy brow in Di’s direction.
“A lovely vibrato,” they said together.
“Well, I’m willing to give it go if Honey and Dan are,” Brian said, smiling across at his friend. “Though I’m not sure how lovely my vibrato is.”
Dan nodded. He had started taking piano lessons some time ago and had a natural talent for it. “I’m game, if I put in plenty of practise and you don’t choose something too complicated.”
They all turned their attention to Honey.
“ I give up, I’m out numbered and out-manoeuvred and I did ask for this,” she said, though her hazel eyes were doubtful.
“Done and done,” Jim said, and Trixie banged her gavel with glee.
“Now, let’s start making lists of what we need to do”
“Number one: the Belden-Wheeler Detective Agency needs to take a vacation for the duration. We won’t have the time to run around after one of Trixie or Honey’s imaginary mysteries,” Mart said.
Trixie glared at her brother and even mild-tempered Honey flared indignantly. “Imaginary!” they said as one.
Ever since they had first met, the two girls had become embroiled in one adventure after the other, often placing themselves in significant danger.
“Our mysteries are one hundred percent real,” Trixie said, while Honey nodded vigorously.
“Mr. Maypenny’s a poacher?” Mart taunted
“That was one time.” His sister spoke through gritted teeth.
“Harrison’s a thief,” Mart continued.
Trixie fought to hold on to her temper.
“Ben or was that Mr. Schulz—” Mart began.
“You stop right there, Mart Belden!” Honey cried, interrupting him. “Our ‘imaginary mysteries’, as you call them, have caught gun runners and jewel smugglers, as well as counterfeiters and con men, women, people.” She shook her golden head. “Oh, you all know what I mean.”
“We certainly do,” Trixie said, proud of her friend’s defence of their work. She fixed her almost twin with a glare. “You’re often sceptical when Honey and I first raise something, but we’re usually right,”
“I’m just saying, let’s not get distracted,” Mart pleaded. “I know you two have a flair for this stuff, but even you have to admit you sometimes see mysteries where there aren’t any.”
“Well, all I know,” Jim said in a quiet tone, “is that a couple of those mysteries gave me the best friends a guy could ever hope to have and a family that is anything but imaginary.”
They all paused to remember Jim’s terrible life with his cruel stepfather before he came to Sleepyside in search of his great uncle.
Dan nodded his dark head. “I kind of want to jump in here, too. Trixie helped me to understand I could make different choices and Honey was the first person to be really kind to me in ages.”
å
Mart looked somewhat shamefaced at this. “I’m sorry, I know Trix and Honey have helped heaps of people.” He actually had a lot of respect for his sister’s instincts; teasing was just a habit.
“We all have,” Trixie said briskly. “I guess Honey and I can promise to make this our number one priority.”
“ I’m less worried about mysteries than I am about schoolwork. Are you boys really going to have time for all this?” Honey asked. “You’ve got college to prepare for and your trip coming up.” She broke off as Jim reached over to ruffle her hair.
“Let us worry about that, little sister, we’ve done our SATs and you all have finals, but we can squeeze this in too. In lots of ways Brian and I are in a better position than the rest of you, especially if you girls don’t shine in your new math class. We’re pretty much winding down in most of our classes.”
Brian nodded. “Honestly, Honey, if Jim and I were depending on our last six weeks at high school to decide our future, then we’d be in real trouble.”
Satisfied, they began making plans in earnest.
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Author's notes: I wrote this story almost ten years ago (although I've played around with it since) I wanted to write a story that preceded Missing Bob-Whites, was set in Sleepyside and uber-traditional. Again, this was influenced by my feelings for several of the last Trixies published. My undying thanks to Dana for her awesome editing, endless patience and friendship— all errors and things askew are mine and mine alone.
Trixie Belden et al belong to Random House and not to me (though that hardly seems fair) no profit is being made from these scribblings
