Chapter: 8
Then There Were Six
It was ten minutes before closing when the three teens strolled into Mr. Lytell's shop. The vintage cage fan, whirling above their heads, did little but stir the hot, stuffy air and disperse that smell that could only be found in old buildings. Worse, the way the outdated monster rocked as it spun, Trixie feared it might come crashing down on top of their heads at any moment.
Adding to this discomforting feeling, Trixie, Mart, and Honey were the only ones in the store other than Mr. Lytell, and as usual, he was giving them one of those creepy pod-person stares.
"You're twenty-five minutes early, Miss Belden," the shopkeeper announced as the young girl walked briskly on past him.
"I have some shopping to do first," she called out with a sniff. Then, reaching the section of the grocery aisle containing non-food items, Mr. Belden's daughter located the aluminum wrap and snagged one of the few remaining boxes. Taking it to the counter, she handed it to the startled shopkeeper and added mischievously, "Daddy's in a baked potato mood today."
"Not that it's any of your business, mind you," Mart noted devilishly, as he crowded in next to his sister.
Mr. Lytell gave the near twins a sour glare but refused to comment.
Then, as he was ringing up Trixie's purchase in the ancient brass register, the ever-observant young lady noticed a large glinting cone stashed on the back counter. Giving her brother a nudge, she then motioned towards the object with a knock of her head.
Smirking like a mad man, Mart returned his sister's silent message with an equally secretive point to his camera, which earned him a sharp elbow to the ribs from Honey, who was standing on his opposite side.
The kindlier Miss Wheeler shook her head in warning, indicating that the conniving boy had better not try it.
Only Mart feigned innocence in such things by raising both hands and flashing his baby blues. But when Honey wasn't looking, he gave Trixie a quick wink, indicating he hadn't given up on the idea entirely.
Sadly though, Mr. Lytell must have sensed that something was up. For he handed Trixie's her bag and then sent the young people outside to wait on the porch while he closed up shop.
For the next ten minutes, Trixie paced restlessly, as Mart kept checking his watch, and Honey sat twiddling her thumbs.
But as Mr. Lytell had promised, at precisely five-fifteen, he reopened his door and ushered the three teenagers inside.
After writing the girls a receipt in his ledger, the meticulous man counted out loud as dealt seven dollars and twenty cents into Trixie's open palm.
"Only seven-twenty?!" the young lady exclaimed as he finished, sure he'd made an error. "But we sold three jars of jam at four dollars apiece, Mr. Lytell!" Trixie had been expecting Mr. Lytell to keep a large share of the sale, but not that much!
"There's no mistake," the irritated man replied. "I would have thought you'd read the contract before you signed it, Miss Belden? My share of the gross is forty percent."
Trixie looked to Honey, who only nodded sadly.
"Well, maybe I should have looked at the fine print more closely," the cross girl conceded. "Still, that's highway robbery, Mr. Lytell!"
The bug-eyed creature from outer space took off his glasses and wiped them with his dust rag. "If you and Miss Wheeler don't like the terms, feel free to take your product and go elsewhere," he informed her dryly. "I only agreed to take it under commission as a favor to Miss Trask."
"A favor to Miss Trask?!" Honey burst out with disbelief.
"Miss Wheeler," Mr. Lytell pleaded formally. "I'm taking a big risk by selling your preserves in my store. There are cottage food laws in this state, and the last thing I need is the department of health knocking on my door. I wouldn't have even considered the idea if Marge hadn't offered to pay me handsomely for all my trouble. Of course, I couldn't take the dear lady's money, but…."
"But you can certainly take the money of three hard-working young girls, now can't you?!" Mart exploded, cutting the belittling gentleman off.
Honey, who was both upset and embarrassed that her governess had gone behind her back, suggested to Trixie that the girls return for their jam in the morning. "I'm certain one of the boys won't mind giving us a lift and helping us load it in the car," she finished. "We'll find another way to sell it, Trixie. Without anyone's help."
Trixie lifted her chin and smiled. It was nice to see her friend standing up for herself. Too often, Honey let people take advantage of her. It might just have cost the B.W.G.s a little insurance money, but it was certainly worth every penny.
"Sounds good to me," she replied with a satisfied nod. "And I'm sure Di will have no objections. She hesitated to leave our beautiful jars in this grimy old store in the first place!
Then, linking arms with her brother and her friend, Trixie bid Mr. Lytell a bitter "ado".
Once outside, Mart waved for the girls to follow him as he quickly wheeled his bike into the dark strip of woods running along the north side of the store. There, the three young people hunkered low and kept their eyes peeled on the dusty trail leading from the shop to the stable where Mr. Lytell kept his horse, Belle. Most days, Mr. Lytell rode the gentle mare to and from work, and the bridle path to his home cut through the Wheeler's game preserve.
"I don't think we should be doing this," Honey whispered nervously. "What if Mr. Lytell sees us? Besides, we're going to be late for our meeting."
"We're already late," Trixie returned, slapping at a mosquito. "A few more minutes won't make a difference, Honey. Aren't you at least a little curious to see if Mr. Lytell is wearing the hat?"
"Of course I am," the worrying girl replied. "But it doesn't make what we're doing right, Trixie."
Trixie wasn't in a mood to argue. They weren't really doing anything wrong? All Mart wanted to do was take a picture for his scrapbook if the chance presented itself? What was the harm in that?"
From off to Trixie's right came a wave to hush up. "Will you two kindly pipe it down," her brother grumbled, "Here comes the overdone baked potato head now." Then, as he wriggled into position to take his shot, he added, "Remember, no laughing. And whatever you do, don't move until he's gone."
As the ridiculous man slowly strolled into sight with his head glistening in the dipping sun, Trixie had to clamp her hand over her mouth to keep from giggling. "This gives a whole new meaning to the term 'chrome dome,'" she thought to herself. But then, things got even funnier.
After her brother had zoomed in tight, Trixie heard a series of three slurring clicks come from his camera's shutter, which apparently, the shopkeeper heard too. For stopping in mid-stride, the anxious man glanced up at the sky as if he thought the sound had come from above. Lifting his satchel over his shiny head, Mr. Lytell made a bee-line to Belle's stall, faster than Trixie had ever seen the poor man run.
But while it was awfully comical, the more Trixie thought about it, the less silly it became. Until now, she hadn't realized just how frightened the gentleman truly was. Sadly sobered, the young lady had to wonder if perhaps she shouldn't be taking things so lightly.
On the way to the boathouse, the teenagers had a lot to think about. Trixie and Honey had been unaware until Mr. Lytell had pointed it out that there were laws regulating the sale of homemade goods in grocery stores. Perhaps, though he'd claimed he'd done it for Miss Trask, the shopkeeper had actually been doing the girls a favor by selling their jam- and one that could have put his business in jeopardy, at that?
Both young ladies were beginning to think they'd overreacted and made a hasty decision. Had they judged Mr. Lytell unfairly? The Bob-Whites sure needed that money – even if it only was a few dollars. Still, as far as Trixie was concerned, forty percent was a mighty high cut. And the stingy man should have been upfront about it inside of just hiding the details of the commission in the small print of the ladies' contract.
Mart, too, was having a wish-washy moment about having taken Mr. Lytell's picture. He hadn't meant to scare the man. Just document the crazy times they were living in for future generations. Though how Mart planned to do that wasn't necessarily so above board. But the vacillating lad was tired of the way grouchy man was always looking down his long nose at the teenagers. As if they were sub-humans or something. And Mart was especially fed-up with Mr. Lytell treating his sister the way he did. The shopkeeper just seemed to have it out for her. So if Mr. Lytell chose to be a baked potato head, he had better be prepared to be roasted.
Gliding up to the Wheeler's Lake, the three young people expected Brian or Jim, who were sitting on the boat dock with Dan, to call out to them, advising the newcomers that they were late. But none of the boys spoke up, and they appeared oddly absorbed in some kind of serious conversation.
Diana was nowhere to be seen, and Trixie could tell that this bothered Mart. He hadn't said anything; it was just a feeling his sister got. But it was one of those inklings that made her stomach knot up.
After securing their bikes in the rack by the boathouse, Trixie and the others joined their friends on the floating dock. The splintery wood under their feet, having baked in the sun all day, was scorching hot, and Trixie was glad her middle brother had thought to bring their thick beach towels to sit on. Laying hers out next to Jim, the young lady was startled when he looked up at her with a split lower lip. There was also a nasty red mark running the length of the boy's right jawline, which was a sure giveaway that he'd been in a fight.
As Jim moved over to make a little more room for his friend, he winced, and Trixie noticed he was holding a dripping ice-pack against the back of his right hand.
"What happened to you?" she asked, getting right to the point.
Jim shrugged his shoulder, winced again, and tried to play it cool. "Would ye believe Cap'n Brian's first mate decided t' stage a wee mutiny today?" he said.
"Oh no!" Honey exclaimed, taking a seat on the boy's other side. "Not at the country club, Jim?"
"Afeared so, me dear," pirate James replied. "'n aft the brawl the manager had yer scallywag matey walk the plank, he did."
"Meaning you were fired?" Trixie gasped, gaping at the hurting young man with disbelief. "So, who'd you hit?"
"Would you believe our esteemed mayor's son, Miles?" Jim replied, cutting the shtick. "Brian and I had the great pleasure of caddying for him today."
"Miles was giving us a hard time all morning, Trix," Brian went on. "Every time the fool opened his mouth, it was 'Boy, get this', 'Boy, get that', or 'Boy, stop being so lazy'."
"Which I could have taken, if he'd only stopped there," Jim admitted. "But no, the lousy creep had to start talking trash about the Bob-Whites. And well, I just lost it. And let him have it good." Jim shook his head, showing both his anger and his frustration. "Dad's going to be furious," finished.
Honey's laid her hand on her brother's uninjured arm. "Daddy may be a little angry at first," she told him, "But once you explain, Jim, he'll understand. He and Mother don't like it when people at the country club act snobby, either. And don't forget, Daddy's let his red-headed temper get the better of him, a time or two, you know."
Jim let out an ironic chuckle. "True, but I haven't told you the worst part," he admitted, shifting his ice-pack to his shoulder. "Guess who Mile's partner and fellow tag-team member was? None other than Jack Turner."
"Oh, dear!" Honey gasped. "Not the same Jack Turner whose father is C.E.O .of International Pine?!" Only the worried girl already knew the answer.
"I assume you jumped in there too?" Trixie said to Brian.
Brian gave his sister a frown and shook his head. "Jim was doing fine on his own," he informed his sister. "Besides, someone had to break up the fight, and that person was me. No sense in compounding matters and both of us getting fired," he added.
Trixie wasn't so sure she liked her oldest brother's answer. It was this lasses opinion that ole Cap'n Brian had failed t' stand behind his best heartie.
Only Jim didn't see it the same way. "Thank goodness one of us had his head about him," he said. "But you should have let the bozos go ahead and put an end to me, Brain. If I've ruined Dad and Mr. Brandio's chance at getting those factory buildings, I'm as good as dead anyway."
Dan, who'd been his usual quiet self up until now, disagreed. "You haven't blown anything," he said. "The only way that'll happen is if word gets out that your Dad's Mr. Brandio's silent partner, Jim. And chances of that are slim. Besides, from what you were telling me earlier, I would've beaten the tar out of Miles and Jack too. Guys like that think they're privileged and better than everybody else. They need to be knocked down to size once in a while."
Now Trixie liked that answer. But she had to wonder what the two country club boys had actually said. It must have been pretty bad.
Then, standing up, Jim stretched and tried to work out his arm.
"Think you'll be in shape to pitch this week?" Mart asked him.
"Yeah," Jim replied. "Pretty stupid of me, huh? I've already let down one team. I'm not about to disappoint another. Sorry, everybody. I know jobs are tight right now, but I'll start looking for another, first thing in the morning. If nothing else, I'm sure I can get on as a nighttime stock boy over at Mega Mart."
"Well, I'm afraid you're not the only one who feels they've let the club down," Honey replied, taking her opening to tell the boys about what had happened at Mr. Lytell's.
When the pretty girl had finished, Brian flashed her reassuring smile. "I think you girls did the right thing," he said. "If for no other reason, then we don't want to get Mr. Lytell into hot water. Things will work out. They always do. I'll help you do a little research. I have a hunch we might be able to set up a stand on Glen Road where you can sell your jam. The old ticket booth we used at the ice carnival would be perfect, and it's still in our garage at home."
Honey gave Brian such a big sudden hug that the two of them toppled off the dock into the water. The others, letting out a laugh, stripped down to their bathing suits and joined the happy pair.
The icy cold water, after such a long hot day, felt refreshing and boosted everyone's spirits.
"By the way," Brian said, before giving Trixie's head a playful dunk, "you three were late."
"I know, I know," she laughed as she reemerged. "And worry not, Mr. Treasurer, I've come prepared. But there are really four of us who are tardy. Anyone heard from Di?"
Trixie's oldest brother tossed Jim a glance and then looked over at Mart, who was floating on his back in the middle of the lake.
"Haven't heard a peep," he told her quietly. "She was still at the country club, hovering over 'poor Miles', when the manager let me off to bring Jim home."
Jim, who was treading water with his good arm nearby, added, "Di's tennis match this morning was with Susie Swanson. Afterward, they'd had lunch with their mothers, and the girls were lounging by the pool when Miles and I got into it on the golf course. Thanks to some unscrupulous freelance photographer, who popped up out of nowhere and began yelling, they, and everyone else in the club, came rushing to see the fight."
Trixie pursed her lips angrily. Susie Swanson was one of Sleepyside's Jr. /Senior High's cheerleaders. The upper crust teen was one of those who'd been born a cygnet. She was peppy and cute beyond reason. And also, just so coincidentally, one of the girls who'd teased Trixie unmercifully in Elementary school.
Susie, and her snooty click of girlfriends, liked to hang out with boys in the Hawks, a club reserved for the school's best athletes. Miles Murdock, the last Trixie had heard, was its current leader.
When the Wheeler's had first adopted Jim, Jim had been asked to join the Hawks. Only the redheaded young man had turned them down. Not only was it challenging to attend after-school functions when you lived in the country. But most of the Hawks thought very highly of themselves. And Jim wasn't like that.
Brian, too had declined his invitation to join, but Mart had never even been asked. And Trixie had heard a rumor once that this was because the Hawks concerned her middle brother to be too much of a "geek".
Of course, not all of the boys in the club were bad eggs. Take Spider Webster's brother, Tad, for instance. He turned out to be a pretty good guy, and he'd even helped the Bob-Whites when they'd held an Antique show for UNICEF. But for the most part, as far as Trixie was concerned, the Hawks and their lady friends were goons. And Di was much too nice to be spending time with them.
As the young lady continued her reflection, the Lynch's big black sedan pulled up beside the boathouse, and Di stepped out with her red Bob-White jacked draped over one arm.
Honey had sewn the jacket and painstakingly cross-stitched the letters "B.W.G" on the back of it. Each of the Bob-Whites had one, and when the weather wasn't so warm, they wore them just about everywhere, but especially to their club meetings and functions.
Swimming up to the edge of the dock to greet her darker-haired friend Trixie cried, "Hi Di! Why don't you slip into your suit and join us?!"
"The hydrogen-oxygen molecule mix is beyond compare," Mart hollered, which his sister translated to mean "come on in, the water's fine".
Only Diana, who was drawing closer, had no intention of doing anything of the sort.
"I'm sorry, but I'm afraid I won't be joining you," she returned shortly, as the car behind her remained, idling in wait. "Not today or any other day," she added with a sniff.
Then, leering at Jim in the water with narrowed violet eyes, the angry young lady wadded her jacket into a ball and threw it at him. "I quit!" Di shrieked before turning to go.
As Honey cut through the water with quick clean strokes to retrieve the discarded scarlet warhead, her adopted brother painfully pulled himself up onto the dock to go after the furious young lady.
"Look, Di," Jim said, taking her arm to stop her. "If this has anything to do with what happened between Miles and me today, then I'm sorry. Please reconsider?"
Diana looked as if she wanted to spit in the boy's face. "Well you should be sorry, Jim Frayne!" she fumed. "How dare you say such hurtful things about mother in her bathing suit! Let alone send that horrible man over to take her picture! Why that was nothing short of mean!"
During the girl's rant, the other Bob-Whites had gotten out of the water and gathered around the two arguing teens.
"I think it was very gallant of Miles to defend mother like that," Miss Lynch went on with her nose in the air. "And very un-gentlemanly of you to strike him down for it!"
"Now wait just a minute," Brian interrupted. "I don't know what kind of lies Miles has been feeding you, Di, but you've got it all wrong."
Diana pulled away from Jim and took a step toward Trixie's oldest brother. "I was expecting you'd say that," she spat, shaking a finger in his face. "You're just as bad as your good buddy over there, Brian Belden. Making jokes about the way I was going to grow up to look just like my mother. Well, I'll have you know, my mother is a lovely woman, both inside and out, and if I do happen to grow up to look like her, then I'll consider myself lucky. The only one, who's got things wrong around here, is you!"
Trixie was stunned. Brian and Jim would never say such awful things about Mrs. Lynch or her daughter. That was just crazy. And other than Di, all of her friends knew it.
"Di, we love your mom. And you." Jim started to say. "Certainly, you must know that Miles…."
"Stop right there!" Diana warned the boy hotly. "I don't want to hear another word. You and Brian try to act all alta…atlta..."
"Altruistic?" Mart asked.
"Oooo! You're as bad as the rest of them, Mart Belden," Di seethed. "Always correcting everybody when they should be the ones correcting you. Well, I may not be as smart as you, but I recognize a bunch of babies when I see them. And you're all just babies, playing in the little baby playpen you call the Bob-Whites. Well, I've had enough. When you decide to grow up and leave Never Land, don't bother looking me up!"
As Diana spun on her heel and stormed off, Trixie prepared to run after her, but Honey said to let her go.
"I'll give her a call later," she said. "Di will figure things out once she'd had time to calm down and think things through."
Only Trixie wasn't so sure. Miles had apparently done quite a number on their best friend. And she wasn't so sure even Honey would be able to undo the damage the rotten boy done.