Chapter 7: A Change in Plans

As Mrs. Murphy grabbed her son's hand and proceeded to drag him from the classroom, Trixie prepared to chase after her. No one was going to call her little brother, a horrible child! Someone had to set the angry woman straight, and Trixie decided she was the one to do it.

But mercifully, Brian reached out to stop his sister before she made matters worse. "Let her go," he told Trixie softly. "She'll figure things out soon enough."

A few steps away, Mr. Belden was telling their mother the same thing.

As Mart returned with Bobby, the teen asked his siblings what had happened. "Mikey and his mother passed us in the hall," he said without flourish. "The kid was crying, and it looked like his Mom might be too."

Mart wasn't surprised by Brian's reply.

"And so," his brother finished, looking bleak, "it seems our plans to help Mikey are on hold for the time being."

While the older kids were talking, Bobby was giving his parents the same tour he'd taken the teenagers. He was still oblivious to the fact that he was no longer allowed to chum around his friend Mikey, but Trixie was glad her little brother had missed Mrs. Murphy's outburst. No doubt, Moms would break the news to Bobby in the morning. There was no reason to spoil the young man's big night in the spotlight.

On the way home, Dad turned on the car radio and made a special trip down Main Street.

Each year, the Sleepyside business owners decorated their windows for the holidays with wondrous mechanical displays. Since Mr. Belden worked downtown at the bank, he drove past them every day. But for his family, the ride was a special treat, and they oohed-and-ahhed, as he stopped for a moment at each storefront.

In the first window, there were animated elves, painting an assortment of fabulous toys. In the next, a magic sleigh flew through the air, pulled by tiny reindeer. On down the line, there was a smoking train, circling a miniature village, and even silly penguins that waddled through snowcapped mountains. Each display outdid the one before it, and every one was a sight to behold.

As the station wagon reached the end of the line and leisurely crept out of town, the family sat back to relax. The old-time music playing on the radio was soothing, and slowly but surely, Bobby nodded off to sleep.

Next to him, lost in thought, Trixie watched the farmhouses pass by in the darkness. It'd been a fun evening, despite all that had happened, but she too was getting tired.

As the big car swung into the driveway, the blue lights, hanging in crabapple trees, ushered it on ahead. The twinkling lights were beautiful, but Trixie knew, if truth be told, her mother would have preferred white lights. But Daddy loved blue, and Moms loved Daddy. Life was good, and it was good to be home.

After brushing her teeth, Trixie plugged in the electric candle sitting in her window and then crawled into bed. The farmhouse was drafty and chill on winter nights, so the sleepy young lady pulled her quilt up around her chin to keep warm.

Many years ago, Trixie's great-grandmother had pieced together the heavy coverlet using scraps from old flour sacks. In those days, the mills had sold their wares in twenty-five-pound cotton bags, which had been printed with colorful patterns. As money was often tight back then, many a thrifty countrywoman would reuse the fabric for things such as dresses and bedding.

Covering a yawn, Trixie tried to imagine what it would have been like to have lived back then. In a time when candles were made of wax and dresses were still sewn by hand. Bewitched by the flickering lamplight, which was dancing about on the ceiling, it was easy to fancy such things, and her eyelids gradually began to droop.

The next thing Trixie knew, she was falling. Only this time, as she hit the ground, it felt so much harder. And the snow, which was piled high around her, was oh so much colder. There were people around her too, but they were nothing but dark shadows.

Putting her fingers to her temple, it felt wet and strangely tacky.

Then suddenly, Trixie was swept up with panic. She had to get inside! There was something she needed. But what was it? No matter how hard she tried, the confused girl just couldn't remember.

Heading for the store, Trixie realized she'd lost all feeling in her feet. It was almost as if she was floating, and the ground was moving beneath her.

In the store, Mr. Lytell was at the counter, helping a line of oddly dressed customers. But was it Mr. Lytell? His pencil mustache didn't look quite right. And he should have had more hair.

Lost in a jumble, Trixie tried to call out to the shopkeeper, but the words wouldn't escape her lips. And then she remembered the reason she'd come. Moms needed a bag of flour. Only it wasn't where it usually was. Trixie could see it along the back wall. The shopkeeper had stacked the large calico bags in a neat row beneath the window. And sitting on top of them was an orange and brown tabby cat, which stared at her with eyes that seemed to say, "I told you so."

Trixie tried to look away but couldn't. She'd already gotten Moms' flour? So what was it she was trying to find? It wasn't in the store. It was somewhere else.

Then outside, a young child screamed.

"Bobby!" Trixie thought with horror. "Something's happened to Bobby!"

And then the bell hanging on the front entrance rang. And then rang again. And…

Trixie awoke in a cold sweat to the sound of the telephone ringing. A moment later, a silhouette slipped past her door, but it was only Moms, going downstairs to take the call. Shuddering, the rattled girl tried to shake off her nightmare. She didn't have bad dreams very often, but when she did, they were unusually vivid.

Below her bedroom, Trixie could hear a muffled conversation going on in the kitchen, but she couldn't make out any words. Minutes passed, and still, her mother hadn't returned. Who could be calling this time of night? No one but Aunt Alicia ever kept Moms on the phone so long. Had something happened, and her aunt had decided not to come?

Finally, Trixie heard her mother on the steps.

Passing her daughter's room, Mrs. Belden noticed the candle burning in the window. Ducking in to turn it off, she heard Trixie whispering, "I'm up, Moms. Who was that on the phone?"

The pretty woman, bundled in a fluffy yellow robe, sat down on the edge of the bed.

"That was Mrs. Murphy," she said softly. "She called to apologize. Mikey told her the truth about taking Miss Elliman's hat. She feels just terrible about the things she said."

Trixie plumped up her pillow and sat up. She wanted to say that Mrs. Murphy ought to feel bad, but she bit her tongue. "You were on the phone a long time?" she remarked.

Even in the low light, Trixie could make out her mother's sad expression. "I think she needed someone to talk to," she replied. "Mrs. Murphy's family and friends cut her off when her husband went to prison. Melinda continues to stand behind his innocence. But I don't think anyone else does. The poor thing has been trying to raise Mikey on her own."

"Oh, that's terrible!" Trixie replied. "It must be really hard for her. I mean, Mrs. Murphy seems awfully young to be a mother?"

Mrs. Belden smiled at her daughter. "I was about her age when I had Brian," she said. "Only I didn't have to work, and I had your Daddy and your Grandmother's help. But even then, it was difficult. I can't imagine how Melinda does it alone."

There was a quiet moment between mother and daughter, and then Mrs. Belden said, "Brian mentioned that he was hoping to talk to her about the Bob-White's helping Mikey. Is that still the plan?"

"We haven't given up on it entirely," Trixie replied. "Why, do you ask, Moms? Do you think Mrs. Murphy might be agreeable, now that she knows what Mikey did?"

"I believe so," her mother replied, "But there might be another way you can help, as well. As you know, school lets out on Friday until the first of the year. Melinda told me that she hasn't been able to find a sitter to watch her son while she's at work. And even if she does find one, she not sure she'll have the money to pay them.

"Oh, Moms!" Trixie interrupted, nearly bouncing out of bed. "I could watch Mikey! I have to babysit Bobby, anyway. I wouldn't charge her a thing. If Mrs. Murphy brought Mikey over here, I could watch them both at the same time. And Bobby would absolutely love it!"

Mrs. Belden grinned and tried to hush her daughter before she woke the rest of the family. "I thought you might feel that way," she said. "But as you know, watching your little brother can be challenging at best. And two little boys means twice the trouble. So what I propose is that the Bob-White's work in teams and take turns watching the young man. Do you think this is something your friends might be willing to do?"

"Oh, without a doubt!" Trixie replied, struggling to keep her voice down. "It's going to be so much fun!"

"It's also going to mean a lot of extra work," Moms reminded her with a chuckle. "So pass it by the rest of B.W.G.s at school tomorrow, and be sure they ask their parents and guardians for permission. If it looks like things will work out, I'll call Melinda tomorrow night. She's really a very nice person, and we seemed to hit it off. I think she'll listen to me when I suggest she and Mikey need your help."

Tucking her daughter back in bed, she gave her a kiss goodnight and said, "Now get some sleep. Morning is going to come very early, and you don't want to miss that bus."

As her mother got up to unplug the light, there was one more thing Trixie wanted to ask.

"Moms," she began slowly, "why was Mr. Murphy sent to prison?"

Moms didn't reply right away. Instead, she stood, looking out the window, and Trixie had to wonder what she was thinking.

"Last Christmas, he robbed a toy store," she finally revealed, as she unplugged the light and pulled the draperies shut. "People in town say he walked away with a large sum of money and also a doll, of all things. I don't know how true it is. Some people have nothing better to do than gossip."

The following evening Mrs. Belden called Melinda Murphy with the Bob-White's offer to watch Mikey over the holiday break.

In the family room, the B.W.G.s waited anxiously to hear the outcome. They felt optimistic and used the time to rough out a flexible babysitting schedule. They also began a list of activities that they thought might interest the little boy.

Since Mikey lived in an apartment in town, he probably didn't have many opportunities to do the things that county children took for granted. So the teens wrote down simple things, like running around outdoors and taking a hike in the woods. But they also included the more exciting ones, like sledding, learning to ride, and going ice skating.

Di hoped to sneak in an arts and crafts day too, and Mart still had his fingers crossed that Mrs. Murphy would let him help Mikey write a letter to Santa. But it was Jim who suggested the Bob-Whites include Mikey in their everyday activities, as well.

"Mikey's old enough to help stack firewood and sprinkle salt on the driveway," the red-headed teen said. "And I'm willing to pay him a little something out of my allowance if he does a good job and doesn't complain too much. Maybe then, before Christmas, you girls could take him shopping, and he could purchase a present for his mother using the money he earned. I'd be a good lesson in the value of hard work."

"I like that idea," Trixie said. "Maybe if I ask him to help dry the lunch dishes or clear the table, he might be more apt to do those things at home."

Brian, sitting next to her, nodded his head in agreement. "We should be doing the same with Bobby," he said. "Especially since he wants to be a 'Bob-White helper'. Bob needs to understand that 'helping' includes work. And money for dues doesn't grow on trees."

"Being a B.W.G. definitely isn't all fun and games," Diana sighed. "And the twins have become awfully spoiled with nannies at their beck and call. I think it's time they learned a few lessons, too."

Dan, who'd been listening intently, gave a hear-hear. "Might as well get the kids used to 'helping', he said. "And while we're at it, might as well ask Mikey if he'd like to be a 'Bob-White Helper' too. It'd be a good incentive to keep his nose clean. Besides, the next generation of B.W.G.s needs a reformed hoodlum. I think it gives the club character," he added with a wink.

As Dan's friends laughed, Trixie hurried over and whispered something in Honey's ear, causing the pretty girl to smile.

"Oh, that won't be a problem at all," Honey replied, not worrying if anyone heard her. "And I'll talk to my mother tonight. I know she'd love to do it. And she won't tell a soul. She'll be tickled pink that she's got a secret on Daddy and Jim."

Jim looked up, his green eyes wide. "Oh, no, not another surprise?" he moaned.

"Yep," Trixie answered back with her kitty-cat grin. "And you'll have to wait for Christmas."