Chapter: 23
Out of the Mouths of Babes
"And if you think that's bad," Trixie said on the way back to the diner, "Thanks to Cosmo Mc Belden here, Coach Jackson thinks I've been 'infected' too. Whatever that means? And he also said it's the Baked-Potato-Heads' 'mission' to stop the 'spread'. The coach and the others believe the aliens have some kind of hidden agenda. Though they didn't mention what it was."
Jim was rubbing his freckled temple with his fingers. He was beginning to get a headache trying to make sense of everything Trixie and Dan had been telling him. "Sounds to me like Coach Jackson is coming unhinged," the serious boy remarked. "So why didn't you guys just hand over the camera to him?"
Dan scoffed. "If the coach had been running after you with a ball bat, would you have stopped and given it to him?" he asked. "Get real, Frayne. Coach Jackson was ranting about teaching your girl here a lesson. Plus, the kid was along."
Jim took a deep breath and exhaled it loudly. His friends' account was so unbelievable. "And you think the three men are still back there waiting for you to come out of the sewer?" he went on.
"Oh, yeah," Trixie said with a hint of a giggle. "Mr. Gruber and Mr. West are under direct orders from their commanding officer."
Mart then asked his sister if she'd taken a peek at the picture she'd accidentally taken of the men.
Admitting that she hadn't, Trixie gave her brother his camera back. As far as the shaken girl was concerned, she was done taking photographs for the night. However, Trixie was anxious to see the shot.
Only when Mart stopped and pulled it up, there didn't seem to be anything terribly remarkable about the picture. Except, maybe, that Harrison was in it. But to Trixie, the group of miss-matched men just appeared to be standing around, looking suspicious.
Then the young detective was struck with a thought.
"Is Mayor Murdock attending the party tonight?" she asked her brother as they continued on their way. "Honey and I were talking to Officer Wilcox the other day, and he said that the Baked-Potato-Heads have been following the Mayor around. They think he's in league with the 'enemy' too."
"Yeah, he's there alright," Mart scoffed. "He's been busy kissing up to Mr. Brandio and taking credit for all of Mr. Lynch's magnanimous efforts as of late."
"Dad's getting pretty sick of it too," Jim confessed. "But you make a good point, Trix. If the tinfoil hat crowd is keeping track of the Mayor, that's probably why they were hanging around Whimpey's."
Reaching the popular eatery, Bobby dashed for the entrance. "I wants some ice cream!" he cried, forgetting his earlier trauma.
"Well now, there's plenty of that to go around," Jim laughed, holding the door for everyone. "Trix, why don't you go help Bob order his treat while the rest of us talk to Dad and Officer Wilcox? We'll join you shortly."
As the smiling girl and her little brother made their way up to the crowded counter to put in their requests, Honey and Brain came their way.
"It's about time," Honey chimed with a laugh. "We were beginning to think you'd gotten lost. What color ray-gun did you pick out, Bobby?"
"I didn't gets one," Bobby replied with a pout. "And thanks for remindin' mes. Is gotta talk to Mr. Lynch. Onlys we had to gives my money to some kids sos the sewer rats wouldn't eats us. Sos, the Bob-Whites, owes me tens dollars befores I spends it."
As the B.W.G.'s treasurer's eyes rounded, Trixie nodded. "It's a long story," she told her older brother. "But I'm thirsty, and Bob wants a sundae. So, let us put in our order, then we can sit down and talk."
A short time later, Trixie was sipping on her iced cola, filling in Honey and Brian, when she noticed Mr. Wheeler and Officer Wilcox leaving the diner along with Dan. As Mart and Jim strolled over to the booth where their friends were sitting, Trixie inquired where the threesome was off to.
"To confront Coach Jackson and his baked-potato-head militaries," Mart explained, shoving his sister over to sit down. When the vinyl-covered bench let out a loud flappy rip, Mart's face turned scarlet, and he smiled sheepishly.
"Hey, don't look at me!" he said to his grinning companions. "I wasn't the one who loaded my hot dogs with chili and onions." Giving his sister an irking smirk, the funning boy hinted that Trixie had been the one who had made the embarrassing noise.
"Oh, Mart," Honey giggled, tossing her wadded-up napkin at him. "We all know it was the sticky seat."
Bobby, however, popped his head over the bench behind the Bob-Whites and cried, "Uh-uh! It was Trixie. Pee-yew!" he added with a teasing giggle. Bob was eating his ice cream with Terry and Larry Lynch. The twins' mother and father were watching the children while the little boys discussed Bob's big sewer rat adventure - that and the necessity of Mr. Lynch to order more of the Majestic 12 Vaporizers, of course.
"Oh shush up, and go back to your sundae," Trixie grumbled, as Honey and Brian got up to let a laughing Jim slide in across from her.
"Chili dogs, huh?" Jim said, feeling mighty hungry after the big game. "I could go for one of those right now. Next time you see Mike, grab him for me, will you?' he asked Brian, who was sitting on the end.
Then, going on, Jim said, "But as Mart was saying, Trix, Dan's taking Dad and Officer Wilcox over to the alley where the Coach and his buddies are waiting. They called Spider, and he's supposed to meet them there. Dad plans to ask Mr. Jackson to step down as our baseball coach. And if he refuses, Dad says he'll tell the other players' parents how the coach was chasing you and Bob with a ball bat. Officer Wilcox also intends to inform the men that if they don't leave you and your brother alone, he'll suggest that your parents press charges."
"Spider's under instructions to round up the Baked-Potato-Heads and take them down to the precinct so Sgt. Molinson can give them a good grilling, too," Mart finished. "Spider says the sergeant is getting tired of playing Hide and Seek with the assemblage. Others have had run-ins with the tinfoil avengers, as well. In fact, Mrs. Connors had to file a restraining order against Alex West. He'd been stalking her, according to Spider."
Trixie finished off her soda with a loud slurp. "Gleeps, it's certainly been another exciting day in Never Land, hasn't it?!" she exclaimed. "I can't believe it's only been a week since we first spotted the U.F.O.!"
"Technically," Mart corrected, "One-hundred and sixty-eight hours will not have passed until…."
"Well, if the little dust mop all gussied up in her mother's best table cloth," Miles Murdock interrupted as he and his Hawk groupies paused at the end of the Bob-Whites' booth. "Aren't you just cute as a bug's ear?" he said, giving Trixie a wink.
When Jack Turner snorted, Miles let out a laugh which his friends echoed.
Trixie wished she could have belted the insulting creep. She'd been expecting he'd open his big mouth about her dress sooner or later. But she hadn't been prepared for the flash-of -eye that Mile's had given her. And it had left the young lady with a bad case of the creepy-crawlies.
Worse, Mile's antics had infuriated Jim.
As Trixie glanced across at her red-headed friend, his ears were almost indiscernible from his hair. He'd been fiddling unconsciously with the round piece of fabric Dan had sent in with Mike's nephews earlier. And the seething young man now tossed it to the center of the table.
Trixie was glad that Brian and Honey had the hot-tempered boy hemmed in. If they hadn't, Jim likely would have been all over Miles. Party or no party. And the worried girl feared that another fight would reignite the problems Jim and his father had been having.
Only Jim was showing remarkable restraint. "What can we do for you, Miles?" he said coolly.
Miles Murdock had only come to stir up little "fun". But as he eyed the checkered cloth lying on the table, a truly evil grin spread across the devil's face. "Why, it's not what you can do for me, Frayne. But it's what I can do for you," he returned magnanimously. "I hear the mighty Bob-Whites have fallen on hard times and have resorted selling jelly? I thought I might offer to buy a jar or two out of the goodness of my heart to help support your worthy organization."
Again the Hawks chuckled. And Trixie doubted that there was even one ounce of goodness in the rotten boy's heart. If he even had a heart.
"Jack, here, has a special fondness for raspberry preserves. Don't you, Jack?" Miles went on with mock innocence.
The smirking Turner boy gave his pal a playful shove. "Yeah," he said with a toss of his hair. "I think its finger-licking good."
Honey let out a tiny gasp and kicked Trixie's foot under the table.
Meeting her friend's widened hazel eyes, Trixie nodded. Both girls now had all the proof they needed. Miles and Jack were the ones who'd vandalized the B.W.G. clubhouse. Unfortunately, though, it wasn't tangible evidence which they could present to Spider Webster.
But then Trixie heard a familiar poot coming from the bench beside her. Her brother Mart had been reading her mind, and he was fed up with Miles' affronts. As the heated boy prepared to slide from the booth, Trixie grabbed his arm, trying to hold him back. But her brother kept on going, dragging the protesting girl along until she had no choice but to let go.
Then, as Mart rose to his feet, Miles stepped up and glared down cockily at his confronter.
The middle Belden boy may have been shorter than Mr. Murdock, but that didn't mean Mart was intimidated by the bully. Trixie knew her brother was no chicken. He might disapprove of violence. But even Mart had his limits. And he'd finally been pushed to them.
Drawing back his arm, Mart was about to let Miles have it when Mr. Wheeler and Dan rushed up.
"Good evening, boys," Mr. Wheeler said, as Dan sat his buddy back down next to Trixie. "Is there some kind of problem here?" he went on, sharply aware that there was.
"Oh no, Sir," Mile Murdock said with a jump. "The Hawks and I just came by to tell Jim what a swell party this is, Mr. Wheeler. It was very generous of you to throw it for the team, Sir." Miles was almost as big of an apple polisher as his father.
"Yes, well, you boys have been playing very well this year," Jim and Honey's Dad said reasonably. "It's too bad your father couldn't join us tonight, though, Jack. Do tell him we missed seeing him here this evening, won't you?"
The son of Mr. Bank's CEO forced a polite smile. "Yeah, sure, I'll pass that along, Sir," he said. Trixie detected a hint of resentment in Jack Turner's voice.
Satisfied that trouble had been averted, Mr. Wheeler left to find Mr. Brandio as Dan shoved Mart over to take a seat at the booth.
The dark-haired boy was still wondering what the stir was about when he noticed the discarded jar cover Jim had tossed on the table. As he reached for it, something told Dan it was at the center of things.
"What's going on?" he mumbled to Mart under his breath.
"Our little 'dust mop', who's 'cute as a bug' in her mother's 'table cloth', has just discerned that Miles and Jack have a destructive appetite for raspberry preserves," Mart whispered in the young man's ear.
Dan scrunched up his prized memento and glowered over at the two despicable boys.
Sensing they that ought to leave, Jack gave Miles a push. "Come on," he said. "Susie and the girls are waiting for their drinks. And I'm getting bored, hanging around with these goofy cornballs. Let's split."
As Miles agreed and waved to the Hawks to follow his lead, Dan leaned back, attempting to get comfortable in the crowded booth.
Only Miles hadn't been paying attention. And as he started off, he caught the boy's extended leg where it jutted into the aisle. Sent sprawling into the next booth, Miles knocked Mrs. Lynch's beverage from the table.
"Gleeps, I'm so sorry," Dan said, leaping to help Mr. Lynch, who was giving the leering young man a hand up. "I'm afraid this is all my fault, Mr. and Mrs. Lynch. I guess I must have tripped Miles when I went to stretch."
Mr. Lynch gave both boys a stern glare as a warning. The mishap may have been unintentional, but he had his doubts. And like Mr. Wheeler, Mr. Lynch wasn't about to let a fight erupt.
"I'm sure Miles understands that accidents happen," the diplomatic man said. "Right young man?"
"Sure thing, Mr. Lynch," Miles replied disingenuously. "And as you know, I'm such a klutz, Sir. Always stumbling into something. Take that decorative waterfall of yours the other day…."
Dan knew that the damage to the Lynch's rock grotto and coy-pond had been no accident. He'd been the one repairing it. And Diana would not be home tonight, grounded, if her parents hadn't suspected the truth. But Dan had also gotten the older man's message.
However, he still had one of his own he wished to relay.
"Goodness gracious, where are my manners?" the sharp-edged teen said to Mr. Lynch while staring Mr. Murdock down. "It seems we've got a bit of a mess that needs cleaning up. But I'm willing to bet a good mop and new table cloth will take care of it. I'll be right back." Then, before he turned to go, Dan added solicitously, "You didn't 'accidentally' jam your finger or break anything during your tumble, did you, Miles?"
Miles sneered at the sharp-witted boy with cold humor in his eyes. "Nah, not today, Mangan," he said. "Not today."
Miles was gutsy. Dan would give him that. But Mr. Murdock also liked to push people's buttons, and he seemed to get kicks out of bragging about it. Dan had a hunch this would spell the skunk's downfall - especially with someone as smart as Trixie on his rotten scent.
"Well then, I guess you got lucky today, didn't you?" Dan replied darkly. "But do watch yourself, won't you, Miles? I'm sure the Comets would hate to see your big season ended by another little accident."
The rest of the evening was incident-free. And as the hands on the clock above Whimpey's grill clicked to eleven, Brian rounded up his family to head for home. Dan planned to stay with the Wheelers until the close of the celebration. And Jim and Honey would give the boy a lift back to the game preserve after they helped Mike and his sister clean up the restaurant.
Bobby, who was normally sound asleep this time of night, was instead wide awake and jabbering as Brian pulled the Jalopy out of town. Trixie, however, could hardly keep her eyes open. And she dozed in and out of sleep as the farmhouses passed by her window in the darkness.
Her older brothers, in the front, were discussing the Red Guardian's aerial show. And every now and then, Trixie caught a word or two as Bobby loudly chimed into the conversation, waking her up.
"Wells, I liked hows those Flamin' Angels mades my seat shakes!," the little boy exclaimed, much to his tired sister's lament. "How'd they'd dos that Mart?"
But then, Trixie bolted up. Had Bobby just made reference to "flaming angels"? The startled teen's blood ran cold. According to Mrs. Connors, Fabio had spoken of flaming angels.
"Bob," she said, now wide awake. "Did you just call the Red Guardians 'Flaming Angels'?"
"Yeah, I guess sos," the child remarked with a shrug. "I guess I gots the names mixed up."
Trixie rubbed her arms in an attempt to warm herself. But it wasn't helping. "You don't happen to 'just know" anything about these 'flaming angels', do you?" she went on.
Bobby seemed bothered that his sister was interrupting the boys' discussion. "Just what Mart tolds me," he grumbled.
Trixie let out a sigh of relief. Still, the slip was unsettling. And as her middle brother began a long-winded reply about sonic airwaves in response to the little boy's question, his unnerved sister began to wonder if Fabio might be more than a figment of Mrs. Connors' imagination.
On Saturday morning, Trixie awoke feeling mighty cross. It looked like it would be another bright sunny day outside, but inside, she certainly wasn't feeling the same way.
When the young people had gotten home from Whimpey's the night before, Moms and Daddy, who were up waiting for them, hadn't been too thrilled when they learned about Trixie and Bobby's big adventure in the sewer. In fact, if Moms had had her way, her children probably wouldn't be let out of the house again! Well, not without being under direct parental supervision, anyway.
But thankfully, Daddy had been able to convince Trixie's mother that this mandate should only apply to Bobby. However, the girl's father did intend to go down to the police station this morning. Daddy wanted to speak with Sgt. Molinson and then log a complaint against Coach Jackson and his little club of alien hunters.
Trixie's parents also decided that their children should be avoiding the Baked-Potato-Heads at all costs. There was to be no more picture-taking of the group. And Mr. Lytell's store was off-limits too.
This meant that Trixie would have to call Honey to tell her that the girls' Sunday morning newspaper outing was canceled. Daddy would be the one picking up the Sleepyside Sun this week. He wished to have a little chat with the shopkeeper. Let him know that the E.T.s had convinced the Belden family that they should be doing their shopping at the Jiggly Piggly from now on. That Daddy and his dry sense of humor!
Only, Moms and Daddy also agreed that Trixie and her brothers shouldn't be doing any volunteering in town until the dust settled a bit. So this morning's trip was out, as well. And Brian offered to break the bad news to Jim.
Trixie knew her parents were being more than reasonable given the situation; still, the frustrated girl was beginning to feel like a prisoner in her own home. Trixie hadn't been grounded for going down into the sewer. But it sure felt that way. And it was all because a group of half-witted men believed that she and her baby brother were under extraterrestrial influence. Boy, was that unfair!
Flopping back down on the bed, the nettled teen pulled her pillow over her head and moaned. At least in her case, it seemed unfair. However, Bob's big sister was again wondering if her little brother was in some kind of communication with the aliens. That Flaming Angel thing hadn't stopped bothering her. In fact, her ever-active mind could hardly think of anything else.
Flames were red, after all. And people did look at angels as a type of guardian. It didn't take a big stretch of Trixie's imagination to put the pieces together.
Fabio had also told Mrs. Connors that there would be a trio of angels. And sure enough, the Red Guardian squadron consisted of three jets. Plus, the flaming angels were supposed to show up after a dark time when people wouldn't know who their friends were. The days following the announcement of International Pine's closing had been bleak, for sure. And until yesterday afternoon, the townsfolk of Sleepyside had thought Mr. Wheeler was their enemy when he was truly their friend. Fabio's prediction was all right there.
So now the worried girl had to wonder about what she and Honey had overheard Mrs. Connors say about the fire. Was Mr. Maypenny's loathsome Mowing Devil going to burn down the crop circle? The aliens "They" seemed to communicate in strange riddles. So it was possible that the "Devil" Fabio spoke of could be a code for someone else. Like the gamekeeper, maybe?
Trixie shook her head to clear it of cobwebs as she crawled out of bed to get dressed. Her last thought was nonsense, and she knew it. Mr. Maypenny would never risk setting the game preserve on fire. He and Dan lived there, after all. No, it had to be referring to someone, or something, else. And this would rule Mr. Maypenny out as the maker of the crop circle.
After brushing her teeth and getting dressed, Trixie decided the only responsible thing to do was to tell the boys about Fabio's prophecies. Sure, the young men would laugh at first. But Trixie was used to it. And the boys would slowly come around.
As the thoughtful girl tied up her hair in the mirror, she sighed. At least she could always count on Honey to take her seriously. Too bad she hadn't shown Honey the same kind of respect. Her perceptive friend had had a bad feeling about those strange warnings right from the start.
Once Brain had spoken to Jim, Jim made a motion to postpone lending the Bob-Whites' services to "Project Sleepyside" until all club members could participate. As expected, Honey and Dan had no objections. After Trixie, Dan, and Bobby's previous night's run-in with the tinfoil crowd, all agreed it was probably for the best. Besides, the teens' time would be better spent down at the clubhouse, making repairs.
Regan was relieved to hear this too. He'd been quite unhappy when he discovered through Mr. Wheeler that Stanley Gruber had been spreading false rumors about his nephew Dan – and even more upset that the boy had been chased by men carrying a baseball bat. That kind of thing shouldn't happen in Sleepyside. That's why he'd gotten the young man out of New York City.
Thankfully, though, Mr. Jackson had agreed to resign as the Comets' coach, which meant that Mart and Jim would be allowed to attend practice next week. But the team would need a new head-trainer. And when Mart went into work at noon, he planned to ask Mr. Sanderson if he'd like the job. Mart was willing to bet that the former ballplayer wouldn't let his home team down -especially since Mr. Wheeler had agreed to lend a hand!
However, until noon, the middle Belden boy planned to join the other Bob-Whites down at the gatehouse. Mart had some wood glue, furniture polish, and stain leftover from the Bob-White's antique show. And he hoped to use these to repair the club's conference table and chairs.
Meanwhile, the other boys intended to paint the outside of the clubhouse. Jim had finished priming over the neon graffiti so the color wouldn't bleed through, and he'd also taped up along the framework. Earlier in the week, Jim had boarded up the broken windows and ordered the replacement glass. The panes wouldn't be in for a few more days, which would give Honey plenty of time to measure and make new curtains.
Today, though, Trixie had her mind set on getting the mess inside the clubhouse cleaned up. She had to be back home to take care of Bobby by one o'clock. Moms was going shopping with Mrs. Lynch to pick out things for the banquet the ladies were planning. But Trixie figured, with Honey's help, the girls should be pretty much done by the time she had to leave.
The angry girl wished that she could use Miles Murdock as her mop. And as she and her older brothers met their friends in front of the gatehouse, she told them this.
"Well, I'd like to use him as a punching bag," Jim grumbled, equally roiled. "But I'd settle for getting our sports equipment back. Skis and skates aren't cheap. And winter will be here before we know it. But I guess Miles and the Hawks aren't about to come clean."
As Brian pried open one of the paint cans and began stirring the thick weatherproof coating inside, he admitted this was true. The eldest Belden now believed, as the others did, that the Mayor's son and the Hawks were the ones who'd broken into the clubhouse. But he was at a loss to know what the Bob-Whites could do about it.
"I guess the only thing we can do, is try put it out of our minds and get busy," Honey admitted, sadly. "Once things are ship-shape again, it should be easier."
And as the good cap'n agreed, the fair maiden and Mart started inside to get the ball rolling, but Trixie stepped forward to stop them.
"Do we have time for a quick meeting first?" she asked. "There's something that's bothering me, which I'd like to discuss."
Jim's eyebrows immediately narrowed. "What's that, Trix?" he asked with curious concern.
"Well," she started hesitantly. "Yesterday afternoon, before the ballgame, Honey and I overheard Mrs. Wilma Connors talking to Mr. Lynch's Secretary Connie. And she said…."
On this occasion, Trixie was proven wrong. The boys weren't laughing. In fact, they were all quiet.
"Oh goodness me," Honey said, sinking into the tall grass. "I had a sick feeling Fabio's predictions would come true."
Brian went over and sat down beside the weak-kneed girl. "There hasn't been a fire yet," he reminded her reassuringly. "And Bobby calling The Red Guardians, The Flaming Angels, was probably no more than a slip of the tongue."
Resting one of the tall ladders up against the clubhouse's siding, Dan continued to think things through. "I'm not so sure about that," he finally said.
Jim grunted his agreement and then tossed his dark-haired friend a paintbrush. "I'd be tempted to dismiss the whole thing if Bob's details about the Pleiades hadn't been so accurate," he remarked. "But something in my gut tells me this isn't a fluke. So what do you say we concentrate on getting as much done as we can around here today? Then, tomorrow, the Bob-Whites do some fire mitigation out at the cornfield? We can rake up debris, trim branches, and dig a trench around the perimeter of the clearing."
"It can't hurt," Mart agreed simply. "Especially with visitors expected to start touring on Monday. One discarded cigarette, and poof! The whole circle could go up in smoke. Not to mention everything around it, if Mother Nature doesn't plan to step in immediately."
"Including Mr. Maypenny's cabin," Dan added. "I'll talk with him this afternoon. Mr. Maypenny is bound to take the prophecies from Mrs. Connors seriously. I'm sure he'll lend a hand. We should also make sure Officer Anderson keeps on his toes out at the field."
"I'll tell him that we're afraid there might be an arson attempt," Jim replied. "Dandy Andy doesn't need to know any more than that. The volunteer fire department will be out at the circle giving tours during the day. So it's the nights that have me the most worried."
Trixie looked appreciatively at the serious faces around her. The young people were more than just friends. They were family. Sure, there were times when the young people were at odds. But when it counted the most, the teenagers pulled together. And the humbled girl was grateful for this. So much so, it moved Trixie to make a prediction of her own. Someday soon, Diana would be returning to their fold.
But in the meantime, there was a lot of work to do.
One o'clock came quickly. And Trixie found herself having to jog home. It wasn't wise in the extreme heat. But Moms was sure to be waiting impatiently on her.
At eleven, Brian had received a call from the country club. One of the other caddies had fallen ill from sunstroke, and the manager had asked Trixie's brother if he could fill in. Always the dependable one, the young man had agreed, and he'd run home to change clothes before swinging back by the clubhouse in the Jalopy to pick up Mart to take him out to the Sanderson farm. From there, Brian would go on into work.
Honey and Dan were planning to stay behind at the cottage with Jim until it was time to head up to Manor House to meet with the young couple coming by to test drive at the B.W.G. station wagon at two. With the water restrictions, Bob-Whites hadn't given the car a bath. And Trixie had her fingers crossed that the family would like the vehicle. But she also knew she'd be sad if it sold.
The good thing was, by the time Trixie had left for home, she and Honey had the inside of the clubhouse back in apple-pie order. It was uplifting to see the damage Miles and his pals had done slowly being erased. It gave Trixie hope that things might eventually get back to normal.
Flying up to Crabapple Farm, the huffing and puffing girl dashing through the kitchen door to find she was right on time. A smiling Moms was just finishing up the last of the noon-time dishes and seemed to be in a pleasant mood.
"I'm shooting to be home around four," Mrs. Belden told Trixie as she pulled a plastic-wrapped plate containing the girl's lunch from the refrigerator. "Your father's still in town but plans to be back in time for dinner tonight. After speaking with Sgt. Molinson this morning, he and Mr. Lynch headed down to City Park. The Dotty's Pottys are set to be delivered this afternoon. And the tables and canopies for the farmers' market and hobby fair are going up today. Mr. Lynch told your father that tomorrow's newspaper should contain a schedule of next week's big kick-off of events."
"Gleeps, that's exciting!" Trixie exclaimed, taking a seat at the table. "Did Daddy happen to say if Mart's pictures of the Way Beyond commercial made this morning's edition, Moms?"
Mrs. Belden grinned. "According to your father, the story and the photographs are splashed all over the front page," she laughed. "He'll bring home a copy of the paper so you can see them. He's very proud of your brother's camera work. And the whole town's absolutely on fire about the television show coming."
Trixie's face fell. She wished Moms hadn't used the words "on fire". But as she began wolfing down her yummy " Belden Summer Special", the teenager found her smile returning.
"Boy, oh boy, is Bobby's going to be excited when he sees himself in the paper!" she told her mother. "By the way, where is the little alien, Moms?"
"Upstairs taking a nap," her mother replied with a sigh. "I don't think he got enough sleep last night. He's been especially cranky this morning."
As Trixie polished off the last of her sandwich, she could certainly relate. She could use a quick rest too. And after she'd said goodbye to her mother, the heavy-eyed girl was headed upstairs to stretch out for a while when Bobby and Reddy burst out the little boy's door.
"Is she gones?" he whispered loudly, stopping his sister in mid-stride.
"If you mean, Moms, then yes," Trixie replied, feeling a bit annoyed. "I thought you were taking a nap?"
Bobby shook his head no. "Me and Reddy were just fakin' it 'till you gots home," he said. "You and me gots to talk. I needs you to dos me a favor."
Trixie rolled her eyes. She could only imagine what that could be. "Well, we're talking, aren't we?" she said. "So, what's this favor you need?"
"Comes on to my rooms, and I'll tells you," he said. "I think your gonna wants to sit downs for this."
"Oh boy," the child's sister thought. "This can't be good."
Then, once Trixie was seated at her brother's desk, the child handed her a yellow piece of construction paper and a pencil. "You mights wants to take notes," he told her solemnly.
Trixie tried hard not to laugh. Bobby was trying to act so maturely. She was beginning to wonder if the family might have another Brian on their hands.
"OK," she told him, attempting to be just as serious. "I'm ready whenever you are. What is it you need my help with, Bob?"
Bobby started pacing back and forth in front of his bed. "I needs you to take me to sees Jim," he said. "I gots some stuff I gots to tells him. And he won't believes it unless you tells him it's true. And wes gots to dos it now."
Trixie put down her poised pencil and let out a huff. "You know as well as I do, you're not allowed out of the house unless Moms and Daddy are along," she told him.
"Nuh-uh," Bob returned. "That's only ifs we're goin's to town. Is asked Moms whiles you were gones. On accounta Reddy and me likes to play outdoors and takes walks to see Regan. And she says wes can still dos that ifs you comes along."
"Somehow, I doubt that," Trixie replied skeptically.
Bobby got mad and stamped his foot. "If you don'ts believes me, just asks Reddy!" he exploded. "He was there, and he heards the whole thing!"
Perking up at the mention of his name, the faithful dog let out a series of deep barks, and Trixie backed down. "OK, OK. But we still can't go," she reminded its upset master. "I'm not allowed to see Jim without Brian and Mart being there."
Bobby scoffed. "You's just gotta have one of your big brothers alongs," the young man corrected her. "And I'ms one of your big brothers now. I'm not littles anymore, 'members? I'ms a big kid. That's why I gots Brian's radio."
Trixie hated to tell the little boy, but he'd always be her baby brother. "Bobby," she began sensitively, "I don't think Moms and Daddy will see it that way. And I'll get in trouble, and I won't be able to spend time with Jim anymore. You don't want that, do you?"
"Nos, I don'ts!" Bobby exclaimed frantically. "Buts you won't gets in trouble. I just knows it!"
Suddenly Trixie's face went white. The youngster had been right. She was glad she was sitting down.
"Bob," she began nervously. "What is it that you so badly need to tell, Jim?"
Bobby sat down on the edge of his bunk.
"I's gots to tell him that there's a kid called Rusty that's gonna 'tend his school," he said. "Rusty doesn't likes nobody. And he's gonna want to hurts somebody reals bad. And Jim's gotta shows him hows to make rockets. On accounta Rusty kinda likes rockets. And he'll changes his mind. But Jim won't knows that ifs I don'ts tells him so. And ifs you don'ts tells him it's true."
As the upset child drew quiet, his lower lip began to quiver.
"Did you writes that down? " he asked his sister after a few moments of silence. "You needs to," he told her almost apologetically. "On accounta sometimes when I just knows stuff, I tends to forgets it quick."
Too stunned to even breathe, Trixie hadn't been taking notes. But now, with her hand shaking, she did so. Then, when she was done, the young lady stared down at the bright page and its anything but sunny message. That's when a sick feeling came over her.
There was a question Trixie needed to ask the child, but she was already dreading his reply.
"Bobby," she said slowly. "Is this person Rusty wants to hurt, Jim?"
When the little boy started to cry, his big sister had her answer.