Chapter 12:

Night Terrors

Seated next to Trixie, Bobby Belden had been cuddling one of the couch's cushy throw pillows. But as Channel 4 Action News anchor Megan Wolf wrapped up her coverage, suggesting the crop circle was the work of extraterrestrials, the little boy hurled the cushion at the T.V. screen with childish rage.

"Don't nobody 'round here know nuthin'?" he exclaimed testily. "'Theys' didn't makes it! Even Is knows that! "

As Reddy snapped up the puffy pillow and went running from the room with it, Mrs. Belden scolded her youngest son and then asked her older boy to turn off the set. She'd heard enough and decided that her impressionable children had too.

But Trixie hadn't heard nearly enough. And as Moms made her exit to find Reddy and his new "toy", the probing girl inquired, "Bobby, if 'They' didn't make the crop circle, do you happen to know who did?"

Bobby grimaced with irritation. "Don't you knows?" he said. "Somebodies like yous and me dids it. I don't gots names. Ifs that's whats you means? Buts the ones whos dids it, dids it all sneaky like."

Brian raised his eyebrows and glanced at his sister. "Bob," he began carefully. "How do you know all this? Did you happen to see something you haven't told anyone about?"

Bobby's eyes grew round, and he jumped up, afraid that his brother was accusing him of doing something wrong. "Naws!" he cried, pulling away from Brian as he tried to calm him. I just knows stuff! Asks Trixie. She knows I dos!"

"That's right, Brian," Trixie said as she went to Bobby's rescue. "Bob knows all kinds of things. So I believe him. Don't you?" she added, hinting for a "yes".

Her youngest brother was acting extremely defensive, and the sharp girl had a hunch that the little boy might still "knows" more than he was letting on, and she didn't want to ruin their chances of eventually finding out what that might be.

Taking his cue, Brian said, "Sure I do. I just want Bob to know that he can always come to me if something is bugging him, and he wants to tell someone, Trix," he added, hoping the lad would get the message.

But whether Bobby did or not was unknown because the mischievous child had dashed off in mid-sentence, in hopes of stealing a cookie while Moms was busy wrestling with the dog.

Once he was out of earshot, Trixie said to Brian, "Well, big brother, I hope all that confession stuff goes for me too? Because boy, oh boy, do I have some things to tell you!"

After Trixie had brought Brian up to speed on the morning's events, she finished by saying, "So I think we'd better go let Dan and Mr. Maypenny know that the media is on their scent."

"Gleeps," Brian replied, running his fingers through his hair. "Things just keep getting wilder. And agreed, but let's try calling the cabin first. We might get lucky and catch one of them inside. It's at times like this I wish Mr. Maypenny carried a cell phone."

When no one answered at the cabin, Brian immediately dialed up Regan. "That's right," he told the concerned groom on the other end of the line. "It's all over the news, so Trix and I thought we'd better try to hunt them down. OK if we take Starlight and Susie? It'd be much easier to navigate the trails on horseback. Thanks, see you in a few."

"Regan's going to saddle up the horses for us," he told his sister as he hung up the phone. "Why don't you go let Moms know while I run up and change out of my work clothes?"

Agreeing, Trixie turned to leave but then stopped. "By the way, how come you're home so early?" she asked her brother.

Brian frowned and shook his head. "I've had me hours cut," the dispirited lad revealed in his best water rat burr. "Yer ole cap'n Brian's a wee unpopular wit' thar county club set, he be now. These days, scallywags o' the Wheelers are no mateys o' thars, 'twould seem."

At the stables, Trixie and her brother found Regan out front, atop a prancing Jupiter.

"Starlight's ready and waiting in his stall," the red-headed man told Brian as he nudged the black giant the teenagers' way.

"What about Susie?" Trixie called up to the groomsman, hoping Regan hadn't forgotten her.

"No need for us all to go," Regan replied, bring a pout from the disappointed girl. "I'd prefer you run up to Manor House and tell Miss Trask that we're off to see, Mr. Maypenny. I doubt the staff up there has heard the latest about the crop circle. Everyone, including Honey, has been busy helping Celia and Tom move their things into the big house. With all of the unrest, Mrs. Wheeler thought the two of them would be safest staying in the old servant's quarters on the third floor until things blow over."

"Have the picketers been back?" Trixie asked worriedly.

As Jupe bucked, preferring Jim be in his saddle, Regan stilled the objecting horse firmly and then said, "Haven't seen hide nor hair of any since last evening. But the main phone at the house has been ringing non-stop with people demanding to speak with Mr. Wheeler. Some of the calls have been threatening, too," he added darkly. "I guess it got so bad that Miss Trask turned off the answering machine. So if you need to reach Honey and Jim, you'll have to call their personal lines."

"Poor Honey and Jim!" Trixie thought as Brian went to get Starlight. But then, something else struck her. "Regan," she began slowly. "How were the horses behaving last night? You don't seem worried about taking them out today?"

The expert horseman furrowed his brow and leered at the inquisitive young lady as if he were trying to read her mind. "That's a funny question?" he said. "They've been fine since Sunday evening?"

Trixie grinned. That meant Bobby was likely right, and 'They' hadn't made the crop circle in Mr. Maypenny's field. If 'They' had, then surely the horses would have sensed it like before.

Finding Honey in her lavish bedroom, Trixie sat down on the plush loveseat nestled in the bay window. "So you see," she told her friend, who was primping at the vanity, "I don't think it was aliens or the Mowing Devil who made the circle."

"I do hope you're right," Honey said, turning away from the mirror. "It's left me so frightened, Trixie. "When Mr. Maypenny barged in this morning, crying that the Devil was on the loose, why I almost lost my breakfast. Not that I'd really eaten that much. Not with all of the other things that have been going on. But still…"

"Well, I don't think the crop circle is anything to be scared of," Trixie told her friend. "In fact, I'm sure you'll find it's really quite beautiful when you see it. Anyway, I think it's worth investigating. We might be able to figure out who made it."

Honey was still leery about the idea and was about to tell her friend when Celia came in with fresh towels for the pampered girl's private bath.

"Thank you again for your help this morning," the pretty maid told her employer's kindly daughter. "And when you speak with your mother, please give her Tom's and my thanks for allowing us to stay in the house for a few days. It's terribly generous of her."

"It's the least we can do," Honey replied sincerely. "I'm so sorry for putting you through all this, Celia. I can't tell you how much Jim and I appreciate everything you and Tom have been doing for us while Mother and Father are away."

"Well, the two of you are like family," the lovely young woman replied. "I hope I'm not out of place in saying so?"

Honey got up and gave Celia a warm hug. "Never," she insisted. "And I don't want you ever to forget that."

Trixie smiled, glad that Honey had a friend in the pretty maid. "It must be so hard to be rich," she thought. But then, Trixie became aware that Celia was smiling at her too.

"Your hair looks very cute," she told her. "You did it up just right."

Trixie glanced in Honey's mirror self-consciously. "I meant to thank you again for showing me how," she said bashfully. "Would you believe Dan even told me he thinks it's cool? He says it fits my style."

Celia grinned, pleased that she'd been able to help the struggling girl. "It sounds like you've got an admirer," she said.

As the busy maid slipped out the door with more work to do, Honey giggled. "Better watch out, Trixie," she twittered. "With two beaus, you're likely to be the envy of all the girls at school this fall."

Trixie turned red as a stoplight. "Dan and I are just friends," she stammered. "You know that as well as I do, Honey Wheeler."

"Oh, Trixie," Honey laughed. "I was just teasing. You always take things so seriously. But honestly, I would be careful mentioning things like that around Jim," she added. "He might get the wrong idea, you know?"

"Gleeps, I'd never tell Jim," Trixie replied. "By the way, where is he today?"

"Off trying to find another job," Honey sighed. "It hasn't been going well at all, Trixie. Yesterday, he thought Mike would hire him, but when Mike checked my brother's references and learned about the fight, he changed his mind. The Mayor is a good friend of Mike's, you know."

Trixie folded her arms across her chest and slumped back angrily. "Some friend," she grumbled. "Jim should tell Mike about his good buddy inviting Burger Bucket to open a franchise in town."

"It doesn't seem fair, does it?" Honey agreed. "A few other places turned Jim away once they learned International Pine was closing. Mr. Gruber, down at the stationary store, even had the nerve to ask Jim why he should hire the rich son of Matt Wheeler when there are more deserving people out there who need work."

"Ah, he's just another dumb baked potato head," Trixie spouted. "But I bet that didn't make things any better between Jim and your father, did it?"

"It certainly didn't," Honey replied with a shiver. "Jim wouldn't even talk to Daddy last night when he and Mother called. My honorable brother thinks Daddy should be home taking care of his family. Not off in Saint Louis while all of this is going on."

Trixie wasn't about to tell her sensitive friend, but she felt the same way as Jim. Why if it were her parents, in the Wheeler's place, Trixie was sure they would have flown back immediately. And even if business forced Daddy to stay behind, Moms would never ever leave her children alone with people making threats and picketing. Moms would be on the first plane back to Sleepyside all by herself!

"I tell you, Trixie," Honey went on, breaking the irked girl from her musings, "Jim didn't even want to leave me here to go job hunting this morning. I practically had to force him out the door. And wouldn't you know it? He made me promise to call him if any protesters showed up, so he could come home."

"Good for Jim", Trixie thought. "Did you let your brother know about the crop circle?" she asked out loud.

"Oh, no," Honey replied. "I didn't want to bother him."

"But Honey," Trixie exclaimed. "Jim would want you too. He's going to be terribly hurt if you don't. I'm sure he hasn't heard the news. Or if Jim has, he's got no idea the circle's right here in your own backyard. Wouldn't it make you feel a whole lot better if he came home?"

Honey flopped back on her canopied bed. "I suppose it would," she admitted hesitantly.

Trixie got up and unplugged the cell phone which Honey had charging on her desk. Handing it to the torn girl, she said, "Dial. If you don't, I will."

When Honey had hung up, Trixie asked, "Is he coming home?"

The pretty girl smiled and nodded. "Jim was dashing for the car as we hung up," she sighed. "Oh, Trixie, what would I ever do without him?"

Trixie shook her head, hoping the girls would never have to find out.

That night, Trixie awoke in a cold sweat. Climbing out of bed, she turned off the box fan whirling in her window and picked up her covers from off the floor. The room was almost uncomfortably warm, but the moving air, blowing across her damp body, had her shivering. Apparently, Trixie had been tossing and turning, and though the shaken teen had no idea what she'd been dreaming about, whatever it was, it had left her heart racing.

She also had no idea what had brought her out of her sleep.

But picking up on a series of faint yips coming from below, Trixie decided it was likely Reddy needing to go out. It was a little after one am, according to the red light on her led alarm clock, and the Belden's no longer let Reddy run free at this time of night. There'd been reports of a mad skunk in the area. So Trixie sighed, knowing she'd have to take the big dog on his lead.

Slipping into her light summer robe and slippers, she slinked down the darkened stairs and found the family pet scratching at the front door. Removing his leash from the peg on the wall, Trixie then hooked its clasp to the loop in Reddy's collar and snagged the flashlight from off the bench.

Outside, the night was still and quiet, but unusually so, as even the crickets seemed to be asleep. Sometimes, silence itself created the loudest noise of all. And for instant, Trixie thought she heard voices coming from the direction of Glen Road, but brushed it off as her imagination getting the better of her.

Leading Reddy to the side yard, the yawning girl glanced up at Manor House and was surprised to see Jim's bedroom light still blazing.

"What's he doing up this late?" she whispered to Reddy, as the large dog sniffed at the grass and then began his circle.

Then, as a blackened silhouette slipped past her friend's window, Trixie had a flash from her dream. Letting out a gasp, the horrified girl nearly let go of Reddy's lead. Jim was planning to run away! She had to try to stop him!

As soon as the Irish Setting had finished his business, the frantic girl dragged the protesting dog back to the house.

Once inside, she quickly unhooked him, and then, as Trixie was again starting out the door, a small voice from the staircase called out to her.

"Where's you goin'?" Bobby Belden asked, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "I heards you comes in."

"I'm not going anywhere," Trixie fibbed with a whisper. "Now, why don't you be a good boy and go back up to bed, hmm?"

"'Cause I knows your goin' outs somewhere," he told her flatly. "It's to sees Jim, isn't its?"

Trixie wondered how her little brother knew but figured it was probably another of those creepy "knows it"s .

"Yes, I'm going to go see Jim," she admitted. "But I'll be back real soon. I just need to talk to him. But you can't tell Moms and Daddy," she warned the sleepy boy with a glare.

"Don't worry's" Bobby replied. "I'm notta tattle-tale. 'Cause you didn'ts tells Moms about the stuff under mys bed. Sos I'll go backs to my room."

Trixie let out a sigh of relief. Thank heavens for that, she thought. And as the little boy crept up the stairs without another peep, his big sister slipped out the door.

Arriving at Manor House, panting from her fevered run, Trixie realized she hadn't thought things through. Now that she was here, she couldn't just go up to the front door and ring the bell. And she certainly couldn't risk calling out to Jim for fear she'd wake up everyone else in the house.

In the movies, Trixie had seen actors throw rocks at people's windows to gain their attention. But after seeing what Mart's baseball had done to the garage window, she was afraid she might break the glass.

Jim's room, of course, had to be on the second floor. Nothing could be easy. But as the creeping girl drew up under the boy's window, she was suddenly struck with an idea. Only she had to put it on pause momentarily, as again she thought she heard the sound of people talking? Trixie wasn't sure if she'd been spotted or if it was simply paranoia setting in?

Scolding herself, she decided on the latter and then took off her slipper and winged it toward the glow coming from above her. Coming up short, the determined girl first dug the floppy slipper out of the bushes and then tried again, this time using more of that good old Sir Isaac Newton force.

Her next attempt was successful, and as a startled Jim Frayne rush into the light and lifted the pane, the elated teen slipped back into her footwear.

"Gleeps Trix," Jim called down, his voice hardly above a whisper. "What are you doing here this time of night? You practically scared me out of my skin. Do your parents know you're here?"

"That's a dumb question," she hissed back, placing her hands on her hips. "What do you think? And if you must know, I'm here, Jim Frayne because…."

Only before the worried girl could voice her concerns, off in the distance, alarm bells went off. As they sounded, the stable lights went on, and Trixie saw Regan flying down the exterior staircase from his apartment with his shotgun slung across his shoulder.

Someone had broken into the Bob-White's clubhouse!

Back at Crabapple Farm, Moms awoke to the sound of police sirens. Shaking her snoring husband out of a deep sleep, she grabbed her bathrobe off of the chair by the bed and rushed down the stairs.

Peter Belden, not far behind his wife, went straight for the main door and looked up the road.

"Sounds like they're headed for Manor House," he told his mate quietly as the two stepped out onto the porch.

When lights went on upstairs, casting long shadows across the front yard, the worried couple went back inside to find their three boys waiting anxiously on them.

"What's up, Dad?" Brian asked his father as the older man shut the door and locked it.

"I'm not sure," Mr. Belden replied. "But a squad car just headed up the road to Manor House. Do you want to try calling Jim? Or would it be better if I buzzed Regan?"

About then, Mrs. Belden noticed that one of her ducklings was missing from the brood crowding the foyer. And considering that Trixie was usually the first one on the scene at times like this, Moms motherly instincts told her something wasn't right.

Mart, it seemed, was sensing this too, and after noticing that the family's flashlight was missing, he was sure his adventurous sister was nowhere in the house. Giving Brian an elbow before the older boy left to call Jim, Mart knocked his head in the empty bench's direction.

Only Moms just so happened to see the signal, too, and she clamped her hand over her mouth before she let out a cry. She didn't want to frighten her youngest son.

"Boys, have any of you seen Trixie?" she asked, trying to remain calm. Only her efforts were in vain, and before any of her children could reply, Moms called out frantically, "Trixie, are you in here?!"

When no one responded, Mr. Belden let out a huge huff, which threatened to bring the house down. "Brian, go make that call," he ordered his son while slipping on his work shoes. "Mart, grab the cell phone, then come with me."

Before leaving for Manor House, Mr. Belden kissed his nerve-wracked wife goodbye and assured her they'd keep in touch.

A few minutes later, Mart spied the spinning light atop Spider Webster's squad car flashing through woods alongside the Wheeler's driveway. Instructing his father to pull down the dirt lane leading to the gatehouse, Mart lowered his window listening to the voices filtering through the trees.

As Mr. Belden came to a stop behind the police vehicle, Trixie ran up to the family's station wagon.

"Young lady, what on earth are you doing out here this time of night?" her father scolded as he climbed out of the driver's seat and swept his daughter into a relieved hug. "Your mother is home sick with worry."

"I'm sorry, Daddy," Trixie replied, trying not to laugh at the sight of her father in his wingtips and his short cotton pajamas. "Really, I am. I didn't mean to scare you and Moms. Honest, I didn't. But someone's destroyed our beautiful clubhouse! Just look, Daddy! There's awful spray paint all over the outside, and every window has been broken out!"

The stumbling girl intentionally left out how she'd come to know about the break-in. And thankfully, for now, her father didn't seem to care. He was more concerned about calling his wife to tell her that their fugitive daughter was now under custody.

But as it turned out, that was unnecessary because Brian had just gotten through to Regan. And after the two chatted for a moment, the entertained groom waved Mr. Belden over to speak with his son. Passing by his daughter, Trixie's father gave her a disappointed shake of his head, and the teenager, who'd been caught red-handed doing something she shouldn't, cringed.

"Smooth move Sherlock," Mart said as he took his sister's arm and pulled her out of earshot of the adults. "Boy, are you going to get it when you get home! Care to clue me in on how you so conveniently knew our house of assembly was being ransacked prior to Spider's dramatic entrance?"

Yanking herself away, Trixie grumbled, "It's none of your business, Fuzz-brain. What happened, anyway? Bobby rat me out? A few minutes longer, and I would have been home in bed, and no one would have been any wiser."

Mart scoffed, knowing it was more likely that Spider would have insisted on taking her home and speaking with their parents. But he was also surprised by his sister's other revelation. "Bobby knew about this little midnight excursion?" he gasped.

Only as the two Belden teens continued their little conversation, Jim finished up with Officer Webster and started their way.

First acknowledging Mart, the upset boy, then proceeded to bring his anxious friends up to speed.

"So, "Jim concluded sadly. "Spider doubts the police will ever recover any of our missing sports equipment. And I hate to say it, but the damage to the furniture is pretty extensive too, and it'll likely need to be replaced."

"Wowzers," Mart said. "How could someone wreak that much havoc before you and Regan responded to the alarm?"

"Spider guesses half a dozen people were involved," Jim retorted.

"Well, did you tell him I think Miles Murdock and those bird-brain pals of his did it?" Trixie asked, hotly.

Jim nodded, and as his red hair glistened in the moonlight, it caught the young girl's eye, and she realized for the first time that the boy was also in his nightclothes. Was it possible that her special friend hadn't been planning to run away?

"Spider seems to think Miles knows better than to pull a stunt like this," Jim told her. "I'd be a pretty risky move given his dad's in the spotlight all of the time, Trix."

Trixie couldn't help but snort at that theory. It seemed to her that being the mayor's son granted Miles special privileges, making it easier for him to get away with such things.

"Well then, who does Spider suspect?" she countered, casting a fed-up look in the officer's direction.

Jim understood Trixie's displeased reaction. He had to admit, that he too, had first suspected Miles of breaking into the clubhouse. But Spider did have more experience in this department, and his theory was a pretty sound one.

"Given the alien-themed graffiti, Spider has a hunch it was some of the odd-balls which have been visiting in town," Jim revealed. "He figures they were probably out this way looking for a secluded place to party and stumbled across our clubhouse. I guess similar things have been happening all over the area."

Mart felt like finding the goons responsible and wringing their necks. "This is precisely the kind of thing that gives serious U.F.O enthusiasts a bad rap," he exclaimed. "Are our membership contributions still intact, pray tell?"

"Just where we hid them, in the lock-box under the floorboards," Jim said to both Mart and Trixie's relief.

"Thank goodness we left up the alarm system after our antique show for UNICEF," Trixie said. "Do you think Spider will let me go in now, Jim? I'd like to see the damage for myself."

So far, Trixie had been kept out of the gatehouse by Officer Webster. Spider had even gone so far as to rope off the entire area with yellow and black tape, boldly printed with "POLICE LINE DO NOT CROSS". He'd done this expressly to keep the young detective away from the crime scene until he'd completed his investigation.

Only before Trixie had her answer, a grumbling Mr. Belden returned, instructing his teenagers to get into the car, pronto. Their mother was waiting, and he had work in the morning.

Sadly, Trixie knew it was time to go home and face the music. And she had a bad feeling this tune wasn't going to be nearly as entertaining as Mr. Donahue's violet alien ditty. In fact, by the time Moms got done with her, Trixie had a hunch she'd probably be ground finer than a pound of the butcher's best hamburger.

So telling her redheaded friend farewell, the fretting girl sulked off behind Mart, never revealing to Jim the true reason for her late-night visit.