Chapter 13:

For Sale

The beating blades of a low-flying helicopter shook fourteen-year-old Trixie Belden out of her sleep and out of her bed. Hurrying to her rattling window, the now wide awake girl glanced to the pink-tinged sky and frowned.

The unwelcomed early morning visitor heralded from White Plains Channel 4. The crafty news station had enlisted their traffic helicopter to scope out the crop circle, and it was flying so low that Trixie was able to catch a fleeting glimpse of Miss Wolf seated next to the pilot.

She knew there was no need to warn Dan and Mr. Maypenny on this occasion. They were prepared and expecting as much. The men had spent a good portion of the day before posting "no trespassing" signs along the game preserve's borders and had rolled heavy logs across all main trail accesses. Besides, everyone for miles must have heard and felt the fancy helicopter as it pounded past.

Or at least Trixie hoped the news team was out searching for the mysterious symbol in the cornfield. Never Land certainly didn't need any more breaking excitement. However, it did seem that with each dawning day came some startling new development in the soap opera the not-so-simple country girl called her life. Thinking of the clubhouse, she had to wonder if the Bob-White's troubles would ever end.

At least this morning, the bright side was, it looked like they might have a little rain by evening. Trixie could only hope. The ground in the garden was so getting hard and cracked it appeared that the earth might split in two.

Pulling herself away from the sight of the nosy menace now circling the game preserve, the stretching girl recited the old adage, "Red sky at night, sailors' delight. Red skies in morning, sailors take warning".

And then she shuddered. Was it possible the foreshadowing clouds were also cautioning her and her pirate friends that more rough seas were ahead? Dropping down onto the edge of her bed, the worried teen cradled her curly head in her hands.

Moms was, without a doubt, waiting for her impatiently downstairs. It was seven-thirty, so Daddy had already left for work, which meant whatever punishment the two of them had cooked up overnight, Moms would be the one dishing it out.

When Trixie had gotten home from her late-night outing, the boys had been sent to bed, and then the girl's parents had had a private talk with their daughter in the den. It was kept brief. Trixie had spilled her guts, and Moms and Daddy had listened respectfully. Both of her parents sympathized with the woeful girl's fears, but this didn't mean they were any less disappointed or angered by their daughter's behavior.

Needing time to discuss her punishment, Mr. and Mrs. Belden had adjourned court and advised Trixie she could expect their verdict in the morning. And that time had come.

Downstairs, Trixie spied in on her three brothers, who were seated at the table in the kitchen helping themselves to bowls of whole-grain oat cereal dotted with tiny marshmallows. Mart, ridiculously, was arguing with Bobby over who got the prize they'd dug out of the bottom of the cereal box. The sought-after treasure was a shiny gold-colored coin advertised to bring its carrier good luck, and it was currently in the younger boy's possession.

Brian, quite simply, had no interest in such novelties. But he did like little peace and quiet while he ate his breakfast and had decided that as the oldest, the token should be his. He was claiming this ownership when his sister walked in.

As the room fell silent, the doomed girl went to the cupboard, pulled out a tall glass, and finished by pouring it full of pulpy orange juice.

"Morning Trix," the eldest of the three hooligans said sheepishly.

Trixie rolled her eyes. "I notice you didn't start that with 'good'," she noted miserably, taking a chair. Then, after glancing about, the unhappy girl inquired where her executioner was.

"Moms ran some produce down to the cellar," Brian replied. "She'll be up in a minute."

Trixie let out a big moan and then nursed her liquid breakfast as she waited nervously.

In the meantime, Mart had whispered something in Bobby's ear, and as he'd finished, the little boy held out their looted pirate bounty.

"Heres, yous can haves this," the stoic tyke said grimly. "Marts and me thinks your gonna needs it."

"Swell," Trixie thought, sensing that the boys must already know something of her fate. But she graciously accepted the lucky charm and was slipping it in her pocket when Moms popped her head through the kitchen door and waved for her daughter to follow her into Mr. Belden's office.

Once inside, Mrs. Belden shut the door and asked the young lady to take a seat in her father's desk chair.

"I guess I'm grounded?" Trixie said glumly. "For how long, until school starts?"

Moms, standing over the teen with her arms crossed, pursed her lips and shook her head. "No, your father and I are not grounding you," she said. "But until you've grown up a bit, we don't want you spending time with Jim without one of your brothers being present. You also must have your father's or my permission before phoning the young man. And this goes for texting and emailing, too. Do you understand?"

Trixie slumped back, viewing her sentence as a fate worse than death! Oh, she understood, alright. And she could live with the telephone and email thing. But having her goofy brothers act as chaperones? Well, that was another matter altogether!

Brian was sure to take everything so seriously that he'd probably forbid her even to sit next to Jim. And Mart. Oh heavens! Mart was bound to see it all as a colossal joke and make every minute of her life totally miserable!

"What if Honey's with me?" the bemoaning girl asked hopefully.

When the answer was a firm no, Trixie asked if she could go to her bedroom.

"There's one more thing," Mrs. Belden said, stopping her. "Your father and I feel it would be best if you return Jim's bracelet."

Trixie's hand flew to the silver chain circling her wrist. "But I can't!" she cried, jumping from the chair. "Oh, Moms, no!"

"Oh, Moms, yes," her mother replied sternly. "And I've asked Brian to call Jim and let him know the two of you will be up this morning to see him. If you prefer, your father can take back the bracelet this evening. But we both believe it would be best if you did it. Your father has convinced me, for the time being anyway, there is no need to involve the Wheeler's in this and compound the boy's problems."

"Oh, Moms thank you! Thank you!" Trixie exclaimed. "And I'll take back the bracelet. Honest I will, if it means you won't tell Mr. and Mrs. Wheeler that I was afraid that Jim was running away."

Moms smiled compassionately, knowing her daughter had a difficult morning ahead of her. "We are not doing this to be cruel, Trixie," she sighed. "Your father and I love you more than you'll ever know. It's just that you've broken our trust. And that's something you'll need to re-earn."

Climbing into the Jalopy, Trixie slammed the door with so much force that the opposite reaction had the front hood rattling.

"Hey! I can understand you're upset," the auto's owner scolded, "But please, can't you be gentle?"

The grumpy girl scoffed and clicked her safety belt in place. "Sorry," she grumbled. "I did mean to hurt your precious car."

As Brian started up the engine, he asked his sister why she'd snuck off to see Jim in the first place. His parents hadn't elaborated. Just explained that he and Mart were now expected to "look after" their little sister – and neither boy was terribly thrilled having been handed that headache.

"You're the one that got us into this mess," he lectured her. "I don't like it any more than you do. I hope it was for a good reason?"

The last thing Trixie felt like was another scolding. And she certainly wasn't about to open up to Brian. A big part of why she'd gone to see Jim was because she had special feelings for the boy. And that wasn't something you admitted to your chaperone or your big brother. It was hard enough admitting it to herself.

"Let's just get this over with," she told him.

Jim was waiting on the front lawn, with Honey at his side, when the Beldens arrived. The anxious young man had no idea why Trixie needed to see him. Brian had only indicated that it was important, and that his sister be the one to tell him face to face.

When Trixie saw the handsome boy, her heart sank, and the color drained from her cheeks. This was really happening, and it was rapidly becoming the worse day of her whole life! How would she ever get through it?

"Good Morning," Brian said, breaking the awkward moment where no one knew what to say. "Looks like we're in for a little rain."

Gathering up her courage, Trixie mumbled, "Make that a thunderstorm." Then, she decided it was best to just jump in the water. It was going to be a cold shock no matter how long she tried to stall.

"Jim, there's something I've got to tell you," the disheartened girl began. Because of last night, I'm no longer allowed to see you without one of my goony brothers hanging around. I guess I'm not supposed to call you either. Not unless Moms or Daddy says it's OK. But the point is I've gotten myself in trouble. But don't worry. Moms and Daddy don't plan to say anything to your mother and father. Well, unless I don't follow the rules. But…"

When Jim's face fell, Trixie stopped her rambling, and she felt like dying. Until now, she'd still been wearing the boy's bracelet. But taking a deep breath, the shaking young lady fumbled to unclasp it and then held it out to him. "They are also forcing me to give this back to you," she said, choking up. "Believe me, I don't want to," she stressed desperately. "You do believe me, don't you, Jim?"

Of course, Jim believed her. Trixie could see it in his green eyes. But as the stunned young man reached to take the glistening chain, their fingertips gently brushed, and the first tear slipped down the heartbroken girl's cheek.

Not wanting Jim, or anyone else, to see her cry, Trixie turned and ran for the Jalopy, with Honey chasing behind.

"I can't say I blame your parents," Jim said quietly to Brian as he watched the young girl go. "Any idea why she came to see me last night?" he asked. "She never got around to telling me."

Brian shrugged his shoulders. "Beats me," he admitted. "She's not letting on. But knowing my sister, it could be anything."

Only Jim was sure his special girl had a very good reason, and one way or the other, he'd find out what it was. But in the meantime, in his mind, things weren't nearly as bad as Trixie was making them out to be. Nothing had really changed between the two. In fact, Mr. and Mr. Belden were actually being quite understanding. Some parents might have banned their daughter from seeing him altogether.

Sliding into the driver's seat of the old car, Honey attempted to console her friend, who'd been wiping her eyes with a tissue. After lending an ear, the understanding girl smiled and said softly, "I know things seem dark right now, Trixie. But it looks to me like there's actually a break in those awful clouds of yours. You can still see Jim, can't you? And while I agree that Brian and Mart will likely have a field day at first, I bet you a nickel they'll quickly tire of it and cut you some slack."

"I sure hope you're right, Honey," Trixie sniffed as she looked out the window at Jim. "I only came up here to see your brother because his light was on, and I thought he was packing up to run off again." Trixie still didn't know what Jim had been doing up so late. And it would be next to impossible to talk with him privately now.

Honey sighed, feeling partially responsible for filling her friend's head with worries. "I tell you what," she said in an attempt to sound strong. "If Jim does pull a disappearing act on us again, why we'll just plan another trailer trip and drag him back by the roots of his fiery hair. Deal?"

Trixie grinned as she blew her nose. "Deal," she giggled, feeling a tad better already.

Then, as Brian and Jim started the girls' way, Trixie hurriedly stuffed the paper tissue into her pocket and attempted to finish pulling herself together. Jim was on the cell phone, and she had to wonder what was up now.

As the red-headed young man shut down the device, Trixie heard her brother say, "Come on, hop in. We might as well drive down."

"Where are we going?" Honey asked as her brother climbed into the car's back seat.

Scooting the girls over, Brian slide behind the wheel then ordered Trixie to get in the rear. "I like elbow room when I drive," he said.

Trixie couldn't believe her ears. Was it possible the magic coin in her pocket had brought her a tad of luck? "But what about…!?"

"Just do it," Brian said, cutting her off. And as his shocked little sister took her usual place by Jim, Brian looked I the rear-view mirror and winked. "Just no hand holding!" he warned the pair with a grin.

Then, as he turned on the radio, the car filled with chuckles. Old-time Rock N' Roll music station ZZZ Sleepyside was playing Mr. Donahue's now-viral hit. The silly song was just the uplifting medicine the good doctor had been hoping for.

Only today, Trixie just wasn't in a sing-along mood. "You still haven't told us where we're going," she said flatly, as Brian threw the Jalopy in reverse. "Not that it really matters. I'm sure Moms is expecting me at home. She's likely thought up all kinds of fun things to keep me under house arrest."

Again, Brian glanced in the mirror and gave his sister an exasperated shake of his head. "Moms isn't a monster, Trix. And she's actually given you the day off. So we're headed to the clubhouse to scope out the damage. Dan's going to meet us there."

"Spider's taken down the yellow tape…." Jim enticed his still slightly gloomy friend.

At the thought of doing a little investigating, the cheered detective impulsively grabbed her freckled shipmate's arm, and ole Cap'n Brian clucked his tongue. "Aye now, I'll be 'ave none o' that, ye hear me?" he scowled, spying from a front. "If ye can't play by the rules, I'll take ye home, ye wicked wench."

Trixie kicked the back of the rotten pirate's seat. This was her real punishment. And she had to wonder if Moms and Daddy had known it would be all along.

A hop skip and a jump away, the rattletrap contraption again came to a stop. In the light of day, the gatehouse was a sorrier sight than it had been the night before. And standing out front, Dan Mangan was shaking his head in disbelief.

Welcoming the Bob-Whites, sprayed on the door in bright florescent-green paint, was the tired request "Take Me to Your Leader". Elsewhere on the tiny cottage's siding, splashed in luminous green, orange, and yellow, they found a sickening galactic swirl of big-eyed alien heads, flying saucers, and even an occasional obscene word or two.

"What a mess," Brian breathed as he surveyed the senseless vandalism. "I figured it was bad, but not this bad. We certainly don't have funds to repair all of this."

"Just wait until you see inside," Jim said. "But be careful when you go in. There's window glass everywhere."

As her co-president lead the way through the door, Trixie was more confident than ever that she knew who was behind the late-night plunder. "Mile's Murdock had to be the one who did this," she said. 'Take Me To Your Leader' is a pretty clear indication that whoever it was, knew it was our clubhouse. I think he did it to get back at you, Jim. Or maybe even you Dan, after the ballgame the other night."

"I don't think that creep is happy with any of us boys," Dan concurred. "Word on the street has it; Miles has a big grudge against Mart. You don't think Di's involved in any of this, do you?"

"Oh, heavens no!" Honey cried, gathering up the shreds which had once been window curtains.

Trixie harrumphed. "Don't be so sure," she said to her friend. "Maybe not the old Di, but the new snooty-nosed pod-person Di certainly might have gone along with it. Somebody had to tell Miles and the Hawks where to find us."

Brian let out a sigh. "We don't have any proof that the Mayor's son, let alone any of the Hawks, had a hand in this," he told his little sister. "Remember what they say, Trix. Innocent until proven guilty. Jim was telling me that Spider believes tourists were responsible."

"It could just as easily have been some of the International Pine people who were up here picketing," Honey added. "They were all over the place and could easily have chanced upon on gatehouse. They're furious with Daddy, you know. And probably did it out of spite."

"I don't know," Trixie continued to argue. "Our missing sports equipment screams Hawks to me. We're just lucky Di didn't tell Miles where we keep our dues box."

Honey spun on her heel and stamped her foot. "Trixie Belden, I don't want to hear another word about Diana being involved. Do you hear me?!" she finished angrily.

Trixie waved off her friend. "Have it your way," she said. "It's not worth fighting about. The damage is done. We need to figure out what to do now."

Meanwhile, steering clear of the discussion, Jim had been sweeping up some of the broken glass with a broom. "I hate to say it, gang," he said, breaking his silence, "But I think it's time we put that "for sale" sign in the window of the B.W.G. station wagon. We can use the money we've been saving for insurance to make repairs to the clubhouse. We might as well. We've already reached the point where we won't be able to make the payment by its due date. I'm out of work, with little hope of finding any. Brian says he's hardly on the schedule at the country club these days. And we no longer have Di's dues." Jim shook his head sadly and then laughed, "Her fines alone used to keep us going during the leaner times."

"Mr. Lynch also hasn't called me back for work since his daughter jumped ship," Dan admitted as he righted one of the wooden conference chairs and inspected its cracked stringer.

Nearby, Trixie was eyeballing the toppled shelving unit that had once held the girls' lovely jars of raspberry preserves. "There won't be any more proceeds from jam sales, either I recon," she sighed. "Somehow I doubt there's an unbroken jar in the lot."

As she moved to lift way the wreckage to be sure, Dan pushed the chair aside and rushed to help her.

Once they had the recycled rack standing, Trixie stooped over and began sorting through the sticky mess lying on the floor. She'd been incorrect. There was one unbroken jar of jelly. But unfortunately, someone had opened it and had helped themselves to a taste.

Getting up, the angered girl went for the trash can, which is when Dan noticed the jar's missing lid and cover sitting on the table.

Picking up the pinked piece of fabric, the enraged young man realized it was a remnant from the blue and white gingham dress that Mrs. Belden had been hemming for her daughter. That made the damage even more personal, and if Miles Murdock had done this, why…."

"Honestly, I don't think we have any choice but to sell the station wagon," Brian admitted, shaking the troubled boy out of his thoughts. "Do we need to take an official vote? I know we've got a "yea" from Mart. We were discussing the situation this morning over breakfast."

As the downcast Bob-Whites shook their heads no, Jim declared the motion passed. "Brian, as our automotive expert, would you mind looking up the car's blue book value? I'll get started on the sign, and then we can run an ad in the paper once we know how much wagon's worth."

"I'll ask Mr. Lytell if we can post a notice on the cork-board at his shop too," Brian said, agreeing. "Lots of people look there. I did, when I was looking for a used car."

And as the two boys continued to hash out the details, Trixie and her other friends began the difficult job of tidying up the clubhouse.

The Bob-Whites kept a few simple cleaning supplies in the back cupboard, but nothing like they'd need. So Honey started a list, and once she was through, the girls and Dan told the others that they were going to hike up to Manor House and see what they could find.

Only before they headed out, the cell phone in Brian's hip pocket began to jingle.

"I bet that's Moms checking up on me," Trixie told her brother, with a groan.

But it wasn't Mrs. Belden, rather Mr. Belden, and as Brian hung up, he said, "Dad says Mr. Lynch wants all of the Bob-White's downtown, at his office, ASAP. We're supposed to stop and pick up Mart at Mr. Sanderson's. I have no clue what's going on, but I take it it's urgent."

"What on earth?!" Jim exclaimed, closing down his notepad. "Why would Mr. Lynch want to see us?"

"Maybe it has something to do with Di leaving the club," Honey said quietly.

However, her friends never heard her. Another low-flying helicopter was muting the soft-spoken girl.

Having made a mad dashing for the door, Trixie stuck out her head and then let out a yelp. The black beast thrashing past heralded out of New York City. She recognized the network logo, broadcast across its side. "Gleeps! Are we ever in for it now!" the tingling teenager shouted over the noise to her friends. "Never Land is about to make National News!"