Chapter 8: An Ignored Mystery?

"What's taking so long?" Honey moaned as the minutes ticked by, and Mrs. Belden was still not off the phone.

"They talked like that last night too," Trixie replied, as she heard girlish giggles coming from the kitchen. "I think Moms has a new friend. She and Mrs. Murphy have a lot in common, I guess. Moms says they both like to cook, and they read the same silly romance novels."

As the conversation in the other room again sounded more serious, Trixie thought about how Moms had mentioned that Mrs. Murphy hadn't any friends. But Moms didn't have too many either. Not friends like Trixie had Honey and Di, anyway -the type of friends that you could share secrets with, and also your biggest fears.

Mrs. Wheeler was nice, and all, but she and Mrs. Belden were from different worlds. Mrs. Wheeler would never get her fingernails dirty in the garden or dream of running to the mailbox with curlers in her hair. Moms was a little closer to Mrs. Lynch, but they only had lunch now and then. And Moms and Di's mother rarely talked on the phone.

At long last, Mrs. Belden returned from the kitchen. She was smiling, and the teenagers knew she was bearing good news.

"Your plans are a go," she told them, causing the young people to cheer. "It took some doing," she went on seriously, "but I was able to convince Mrs. Murphy to swallow her pride and accept your offer to watch Mikey. On Monday, Melinda will drop off her son on the way to work and then pick him back up when her shift is over. To make things easier, we've designated Crabapple Farm as the central meeting point."

Realizing he'd been rude, Jim jumped up and offered Mrs. Belden his seat. "That sounds ideal," he said, as she made herself comfortable. "Did Mrs. Murphy have any concerns, Mrs. Belden?"

"Not too many," the Belden's mother replied. "I did promise Melinda that Mikey would get a healthy lunch each day. And I've also agreed to supervise occasionally. But conversely, if Mikey starts acting up, or becomes a bad influence on Bobby, Melinda knows she'll need to make other arrangements."

"Gleeps, Moms, that's perfectly understandable," Brain said. "Did Mrs. Murphy show any interest in the Build a Buddy program?

"She did," his mother replied. "Melinda liked the idea very much. She plans to contact the organization after the first of the year. She's also given 'Santa' special permission to bring Mikey presents this Christmas. She finds your concern and self-sacrifice touching and sends the Bob-Whites, her deepest thanks."

The next two days were oddly quiet on Glen Road. Mart had called this period "the calm before the storm". Well, those weren't his exact words, but Trixie knew that's what he'd meant.

Only what she didn't know was whether her middle brother was referring to the weather or their Aunt Alicia's visit. Mart had been telling Trixie that the farmers' almanac predicted heavy snow at the end of the week. But on this Friday morning, the newsman said to expect less than an inch.

However, looking out her bedroom window, Trixie noted they'd already had a good two inches.

Getting dressed for school, she intentionally overlooked the jumper she'd worn on parent/teacher night and instead selected a simple gray skirt from her closet. Then, from her bottom dresser drawer, she pulled out the sweater Aunt Alicia had sent her last Christmas. It still had the tags on it, and Trixie, in an unladylike way, pulled them off using her teeth.

"Aunt Alicia would have loved that," she thought with a giggle.

Then, as she slipped on the outfit, Trixie decided the sweater didn't look half bad. It was spun out of soft pink angora and flowed generously from her shoulders before tapering to a close fit just above her waistline. The neck was high and snug, with round pearl buttons running down one side.

The ensemble gave Trixie the appearance of having an hourglass figure, which might have pleased her, but the sweater was terribly itchy. Worse, the uncomfortable gift also shed, making her eyes water. But Trixie had promised her mother she'd wear it. And today, of all days, she wasn't going put up a fight. So sighing, the resigned girl stuffed her skirt pocket with tissues.

Everything else, though, seemed to be going in Trixie's favor this morning.

Bobby had been on his best "gotta be good for Santa" behavior when she'd gotten him ready for school. And Mart, wanting to get his little brother's letter to Saint Nick the mail, had volunteered to walk the little boy to the bus stop. But best of all, Daddy had swung by the bakery on the way home from work the night before and come with home a box of jelly donuts for breakfast. Not only were they yummy-yum, but clean-up had been a snap!

Again looking out the window, Trixie noticed that the flag was up on the mailbox, and Bob's bus was slowly pulling away. Her ride would be arriving soon, and it was time to get moving.

Taking the seat next to Jim's, Brian set his book bag on the floor between his feet and told his friend, good morning. In front of the boys, Mart had wedged himself in between Di and Honey and was now cracking jokes about the beautiful weather.

Trixie, having gotten on the bus just as the driver was closing the door, plopped down in the first open seat, by Dan.

"I got a call last night from Jack, at Well's Salvage," Brian said to Jim, as the bus jerked forward. "He's located a set of those hub caps I've been searching for. I'm going to go check them out tomorrow. Want to ride along?"

"Umm, yeah, I guess so," Jim replied, not sure what he'd just agreed to. "Is your sister wearing a skirt?"

Brian laughed, realizing why his buddy was distracted. "Aunt Alicia arrives today," he revealed. "She'll be there when we get home from school. Moms asked Trixie to get dressed up."

Across the aisle, Trixie was explaining the same thing to Dan. "So you see," she said, "Moms pretty much forced me to wear it."

"Well, you can tell her I said you look nice," he replied, making Trixie blush at the unexpected compliment. "You can also tell her that Mr. Maypenny said 'thanks' for the eggs. If she has any more, he's got some freshly cracked walnuts he's willing to trade for them?"

"I'll let her know," Trixie promised. "She does a lot of baking this time of year, and egg production usually drops in the winter. But Mart's hooked up this crazy light system that has the hens laying as if it were middle of July."

As the bus lumbered on, Trixie noticed the snow had picked up. Outside the windows, it was hard to see anything beyond the swirling mass of white. It gave her the impression that they were traveling through a thick cloud. It also added to the tight pressure building within the cabin.

The ride was normally a noisy one, but today, the clamor was more subdued. The loudest sound came from the squeegeeing wiper blades as they battled to keep the windshield clear.

The bus driver, who'd slowed the rocking vehicle to a crawl, kept glancing at his watch. Each stop was becoming increasingly late, and the Bob-White's felt sorry for the kids who were still waiting outside in the weather.

But after what seemed like ages, the old yellow transporter pulled into the entrance of Sleepyside Junior/Senior High.

As the vehicle, filled with cheering teens, gradually rolled to a stop, Jim rose from his seat to get a jump on the crowd. Moving ahead with determination, he held out his hand to a pretty young lady. "May I escort you to the building?" he asked, grinning.

Trixie smiled appreciatively and accepted his offer.

Midmorning, Mr. Stratton, the school principal, came over the intercom system and announced that the school would be dismissing at noon due to the in-climate weather. The current buzz was that Sleepyside could get hit with upwards of a foot and a half of snow. And the school board wanted to be sure the young people got home before the roadways became too hazardous.

Trixie wondered if the current conditions had caused her aunt to cancel her trip. Aunt Alicia was traveling by car, and she was driving all the way from North Carolina. Even though early on, Trixie had wished for just this scenario, the teen now feared for her aunt's well-being. Besides, after everything Moms and the family had gone through to get ready for Aunt Alicia's visit, it would be a letdown if she didn't come.

Climbing back on the bus, Trixie discovered that Jim had reserved the seat next to his, in her name. Sitting down, she said, "Long time, no see."

Holding Trixie's books until she got settled, Jim then noticed the redness in his special friend's eyes.

"Have you been crying?" he asked her with concern. "No one said anything bad, did they?"

"Oh no," Trixie replied. "Everybody's been extra nice to me today, for some reason. It's this awful sweater. I think I'm allergic to it."

Jim looked relieved, but then again, he didn't. "That's a shame," he said, "I mean about the sweater. It looks keen on you."

Trixie was unaccustomed to the attention she'd been receiving, and it made her feel terribly awkward. Boys she hardly knew had said good morning to her. And Di had even asked if she could borrow the pink monstrosity! But right now, all Trixie wanted to do, was get home and take it off.

"How's the Christmas surprise coming?" she asked Jim, trying not to scratch as she changed the subject.

"Regan and I haven't been able to get much done this week," he admitted with a frown. "We're waiting on some parts. They're supposed to come in this weekend."

"Parts?!" Trixie exclaimed, grabbing Jim's arm. "So that rules out animal and vegetable, which leaves us with mineral. Give me another clue. Pretty please?" she coaxed him, batting her eyes as Di would.

There was something about wearing the sweater from Aunt Alicia, which had encouraged Trixie to try the playful nudge.

Responding, but not in the way the teasing girl had hoped, the handsome young man simply chuckled.

"Seems I've already said too much," he replied. Then, as the bus driver pulled away from the curb, he added, "It's been kind of slow in the mystery department lately, hasn't it, Trix?"

Trixie sat back and chewed on her knuckle for a bit. "I guess there hasn't been much time for it," she admitted at last.

But as soon as the words came out of her mouth, Trixie knew they were just an excuse. It was time she faced the truth. There was something that had been bubbling inside her for days now. And the more she forced it down, the more it came back up. "Jim," she confessed, "what if I told you there might be a mystery I've been trying to ignore. One that nobody wants to see."

"What?!" Jim exclaimed with disbelief. "My school girl shamus ignoring a mystery? Never."

"Well, it's true," Trixie replied, bringing her voice down a notch. She didn't want any other young people on the bus to hear what she said next. "Jim, what if Mrs. Murphy's husband is innocent like she says? And no one does anything about it?"

Jim took a deep breath and stared out the side window at the growing piles of snow. As the rear end of the creeping vehicle swerved back and forth, he finally said, "Mrs. Murphy thought Mikey was innocent too, Trix. But she was wrong. When you love someone, sometimes it's hard to believe they can do anything bad."

"I know, I thought about that too," Trixie said sadly. "But Jim, something Moms told me about the robbery just doesn't make sense. Why would a man, with a son and no daughters, steal a doll?"

Jim raised his eyebrows and looked Trixie in the eye. "You've got me there," he admitted. "But Mr. Murphy was convicted by a jury in a court of law. I'm sure he had a fair trial."

"People do make mistakes," Trixie reminded him, soberly.

Jim didn't know what to say. "Have you talked to Honey about this?" he asked her softly.

Trixie shook her head. "Not yet."

"Then do," he told her seriously. "Honey has a special sense that tells her when somethings not right. Listen to what she has to say. And if the two of you decide to do some investigating, just please keep me in the loop. Please?" He begged her seriously.

Nodding, Trixie gave Jim her promise, and in return, he squeezed her hand.

Arriving home, the Belden's climbed off the bus, and Mart dramatically kissed the ground – which just so happened to be about six inches higher than it was when he left.

Trixie, in her usual observant way, first noticed that Aunt Alicia's car wasn't in the drive. However, her father's was, which meant the bank had closed early, too. There were also two sets of rapidly filling tire tracks in the road, which indicated first, that Bobby's bus had already been by. And secondly, since the red flag on the mailbox was down, the postal lady had collected.

Pushing her brothers on up ahead of her, Trixie stopped to get the mail.

Inside the black metal box, beneath a couple of red and green cards, she found a small padded envelope. The package was addressed to Trixie, but there was no return address label on the front. Anxious to see what was inside, the curious girl hurried on up the driveway.

Once she'd gotten in and taken off her coat, Bobby ran up, asking if he'd gotten a reply from Santa yet.

"You silly goose," his sister said, tapping the disappointed boy on the head with the parcels. "You only mailed off your letter this morning. It's going to take a while to reach the North Pole."

"How long?" the little boy asked.

Trixie was about to tell him to go ask Mart when their mother passed through, on her away upstairs with a basket of laundry.

"Robert Belden," Moms scolded, with an exasperated look, "did you finish all of your carrot sticks?"

"No, ma'am," Bobby replied, avoiding her stern gaze. "But don't worry. I'm gonna go do it now."

"You are 'going to go do it'," Mrs. Belden corrected, with a shake of her head. "And please be sure to wash your hands first," she added, as the little boy had been petting Reddy, who'd followed him in to greet Trixie.

With a sigh, she sent Bobby on his way and then asked her daughter if she was feeling hungry. "There's a ham salad sandwich waiting for you in the kitchen," Moms said. At least there was when I left. I'm afraid your brothers were already eyeballing it."

Then spying the manila envelope, the aproned lady set down her laundry basket and added, "Ooo, that looks mighty interesting?"

"Oh, it is!" Trixie replied. "And it has my name on it. Only I don't know who sent it. Should I open it, Moms?"

Mrs. Belden laughed and said, "That's the only way I know to find out what's inside".

Grinning, Trixie handed her mother the rest of the mail and proceeded to unseal the mailer. Pulling out a small, neatly wrapped package, the inquisitive young lady read the gift tag.

"Dear Trixie," it began. "You are to open this now. Your Secret Santa."