Chapter: 24

Good Things to "Knows"

Pulling Bobby into her arms, Trixie smoothed the child's silky mop and tried to reassure the little boy that nothing would be happening to Jim.

"We'll warn him about Rusty," she promised the sobbing child. "And Jim will believe us. He will. Jim knows that you know things, Bob. Why just this morning, he was telling the Bob-Whites he does. So when the time comes, Jim will show Rusty how to make rockets. Trust me. He will."

Trixie wasn't sure where her certainty was coming from. But she'd meant every word she'd said. Though it didn't make her any less frightened than the child, she was cradling.

"Do yous just knows it?" Bobby sniffed as he looked up into his sister's welling eyes.

Wiping away her un-spilled tears with the back of her hand, Trixie smiled down at the young prophet. "I 'just knows' it," she promised him softly.

Immediately Bobby's crying lessened, and he picked up the yellow piece of paper from off his desk. "Then comes on," he told his big sis as he yanked on the strap of her denim overalls. "We gots to go. We don't gots much time."

"But Bobby," Trixie objected, not knowing what to do. "Jim's tied up right now. There's a nice couple who might buy the Bob-White station wagon. He, Honey, and Dan are meeting with them at two o'clock."

"Oh nos, those people aren't comin'," the child insisted. "They called Jim and tolds him so. Sos I gotta calls him and tell Jim where to meets us."

Bob's big sister wondered if she'd inhaled too many paint fumes down at the clubhouse. Was this really happening? "Can't you just tell Jim about Rusty over the phone?" she suggested.

Despite having genuine concerns for her red-headed friend, Trixie was still nervous about seeing him without Mart or Brian being there. Surely, she and Bobby could wait until one of the other boys could go too? Why Jim hadn't even built his boys' school yet?

"No," Bobby insisted, getting frantic again. "We gots to do it now in persons. Like you hads to when you snucks out to talk to Jim and gots in trouble."

The still hesitant girl completely understood the child's desperation. Apparently, impulsiveness ran in the Belden family. But it had gotten Trixie in trouble so many times before. Would this be any different?

As she reached to flip off the overhead light in preparation to leave, Bob floored his sister again by adding, "When we sees him, you can tell Jim whys you did thats, too. I thinks it's 'portant you dos."

Trixie moaned. "Don't tell me you 'just knows' that too?" she said.

Bobby let out a piggish snort as the two started down the hallway with Reddy trailing close behind them. "Now whys would I knows somethin' likes that?" he asked the puzzled girl who was asking herself, "Why indeed?"

"Naw, I heards Brian talkin' to Mart 'bouts it," Bobby confessed. "Brian says Jim's worryin' 'cause he can't figures it out. Brian asked Mart if he thoughts it was on accounta Jim gots in a fight with that bad guy who falled over Dan, and you wanted to knows more dirt."

Trixie threw back her head and asked the ceiling, "Why me?" It seemed girls weren't the only ones who liked to gossip.

"Shame on you," she went on to scold the little boy. "You know better than to snoop on your big brothers."

Bobby grimaced. "I wasn't snoopin'," he insisted. "I just got good ears, and Brian and Mart talks loud. But if you wants to know, Brian said Jim was fightin' on accounta that bad guy said you only likes Jim on accounta he's gots money. That Miles guy says all us Beldens are likes that. He also says you gived him puppy-eyes too. But he tolds Jim he don't like dogs. Only Jim tolds that means Miles, the only dog he knowed was him and that you're the mostest beautiful girl in the whole universe."

Trixie's eyes widened. So that's how the fight had started. It'd been over her!

"Did Jim really say I was the most beautiful girl in the universe?" she asked. The disbelieving teen glanced at her image on the blank T.V. screen. Nope, as far as she could tell, this ugly duckling hadn't magically grown into a beautiful swan overnight. She couldn't see it in her reflection anyway.

But Bobby giggled and nodded his head until his curls bounced. "Brian saids he dids," he replied. And Brian tolds Jim, Miles was only sayin' that bad stuff 'cause you don't gives him the times of day. But Jim slugged Miles goods anyway. And that's when Mart says he wonders if Jim's worryin' cause he dids its. He thinks Jim mights be scared you mights stops likin' him if he keeps gettin' mad likes that. So, Mart tolds Brian, it's 'portant you tells Jim the real reason you wents to sees him. 'Cording to Mart, Jim's always worryin' somethin' 'bout you. Mart says Jim's a pathic sap or somethin'."

As the conversing pair entered the living room, Bobby went for the telephone. "You're not gonna stop likin', Jim, ares you?" he asked with a hint of concern.

Trixie smiled. "Not in a zillion years," she assured the little boy. "Do you need me to dial his number for you?"

"Nopes," Bob said. "It's the number fives button. Is called it before. And you mights gets in trouble since you don't gots Moms 'mission."

Trixie decided there and then that she was already in trouble. She should have asked Bob what his plans were before he hit the speed dial on the phone. But as she heard the telephone ringing on the other end, she knew it was too late.

Then, as the call was picked up, Bob said, "Hi Miss Trasks. This is Robert Belden. May I speaks to Jim? Its 'portant. Oh, he is? Yes, please. I'lls wait."

"Jim's eatin' lunch. But Miss Trask's gonna gets him," the grown-up child told his sister.

Despite the seriousness of the situation, Trixie snickered and had to wonder how Jim was going to respond to Bob's clandestine invitation. Oh, she knew Jim would be very polite to her little brother. But would he actually agree to meet up with the pair? It was against Mr. and Mrs. Belden's rules, after all.

"Yeahs, it's me, Bobby," Trixie heard her youngest brother say into the receiver. "Did those people cancels seein' the car? I thought sos. That's goods. 'Cause you gots to meets my sister and me at the Van Booger place. We gots somethin' real 'portant to tells you."

Trixie heard a long pause on the other end of the line, then Jim said something she could quite make out. It was pretty clear he had no idea who the Van Boogers were. And for that matter, neither did she.

"You knows," Bobby went on with frustration. "That cabin place. There's an ol' apple tree theres, and we'll be waitin' unders it. It's out pasts Mr. Maypenny's house in the woods."

Trixie had to grab the door sill to steady herself. Bobby was referring to the Van den Boogaard homestead! How on earth would he know about that place? Then she thought, "don't ask."

"Yeahs," the little boy said after Jim had finally replied. "That's its. I just 'membered the booger part, I guess. Nos, I can't tells you why. We just dos. And it's gotta be rights now. We don't gots all day. Did I says it's 'portant? Trixie's gonna tell you why she comed to see you too. Sos you can stop worryin'. Bye."

Then Bobby hung up abruptly.

"Did Jim say he was going to meet us?" Trixie asked anxiously.

"He didn'ts say," Bob said. "Buts he'll bes there."

Checking her watch for the third time, Trixie sighed and said, "Come on, Bob, I think we'd better be going home. I'm afraid Jim's just not coming. We'll talk to him later."

"I'm nots leavin'," the stubborn child said, drawing silly pictures in the dirt under the apple tree with a twig. "He's just runnin' lates. So sits back down, and I'll tells you more stuff I knows."

Trixie groaned but obeyed. "There's more?" she asked.

"Lots," Bobby confessed. "Most of it gots to do with yous too."

"Lovely," Trixie thought. Maybe she would have been better off if Mr. Jackson had hit her over the head with his baseball bat - that or given Bobby a knock or two.

But before the all-knowing youngster could drop his next giant bombshell, the Beldens heard the sound of hiking boots rustling through the dry leaves covering the little-used trail.

Getting up to greet the troubled-looking young man coming their way, Trixie brushed off the seat of her cut-off denims and scrunched her curls around their paisley band. As a moist trickle of perspiration trickled down in front of her ear, Trixie wondered if beautiful girls sweated. Wiping it away with a lift of her shoulder, she hoped perhaps, that Jim hadn't noticed.

"This better be good," the red-headed boy announced in greeting. "I almost didn't come, Trix. It wasn't wise. We could both end up in trouble."

Trixie winced at the irritation in her special friend's voice. She should have been expecting it. But the distracted young lady had let her guard down. "Then why did you?" she asked, feeling a tad riled.

"Maybe because, as Bobby said, I am worried?" Jim countered.

As he came up under the tree, Jim plucked a ripe apple from one of the lower limbs. Then, removing a penknife from a pocket of his jeans, he cut a thick wedge from the yellow and scarlet fruit. Holding it out to the watching girl, he said, "Have a taste. It's good. Pippin, I believe."

Accepting the boy's tart peace offering, Trixie took a nibble and grinned. The apple was good. But it tasted sweeter knowing that Jim had gone against his grain and come to meet with her and Bobby.

It didn't matter to Trixie that Jim was a little bit angry. She knew he wasn't the type of boy whose temper flared for no reason. He didn't get mad when things didn't go his way like other boys she'd known. No, Jim's anger came out of his deep concern for others' well-being and it often showed it's self when injustices had been done to those he cared about. As a result, in Trixie's sparkling eyes, Jim was a heroic pirate. A champion for the underdog. Especially one specific dog who'd recently been dubbed a dust mop.

Cutting Bobby off a slice of apple next, Jim sat down beside the little boy and said, "OK, Pal, what's this 'important stuff' you and your sister have got to tell me."

As Trixie joined the pair under the shady old tree, the little boy munched on his juicy snack as he told Jim about Rusty. And when Bob was through, he pulled the folded-up piece of construction paper from the pocket of his play-suit and handed it to Jim. "Trixie tooked down notes for you," he said. "So you can puts them someplace safe sos you'll remembers when the time comes."

Trixie had seen Jim's face turn white before. Like when she and Honey had been trapped with the young man on the top of Uncle Andrew's barn in Iowa when the river had flooded. But she'd never, ever, seen Jim's pallor go such a sickly shade of blue. And she reached out and placed her hand on his arm.

"Are you OK?" she asked, surprised at how cold the boy's skin felt. "Bob's telling you the truth, Jim. This is something he "just knows". You need to trust what he's telling you. You do believe him, don't you?"

Jim rubbed his mouth with the back of his hand as if he was trying to massage the words to come out. "Yeah," he eventually mumbled. "I believe him. And here I was beginning to think I was wasting my time trying to rebuild the Sky Sleuth?"

"Oh, nos," Bobby said, licking his still sticky fingers and wiping them on his shirt. "They says your doin' goods there. You gots the figurin' right. But you mights wanna check the parabola cones thing. It's not perfectly rounds. It's kinda slanty on one side. That's the rights nose They says, though."

Trixie gave Jim's arm a slight squeeze, questioning if what Bob had said made any sense at all. In reply, the still pale boy nodded. It made perfect sense.

"I'll check that out, Bobby, he said. "Thank you."

Tucking the yellow paper in his pocket, Jim looked to the woods in the direction of the hidden cabin. Trixie suspected her male friend was wondering how she and Bobby knew about this place. And she decided to let Jim continue to wonder.

"Trix," he said quietly, after offering her another bite of apple. "Bobby said you were going to tell me why you came to see me Tuesday night?"

Trixie passed on the second piece of fruit, and Jim ate it from the blade. She wanted to tell him. Honestly, she did. But it seemed so silly now. Besides, Bobby was there. He'd probably go blabbing to Brian and Mart.

"It was nothing, really," the trapped girl fibbed. "I'd just heard noises when I was out walking Reddy, and I saw your light on. I wondered if you'd heard them too."

By the way Trixie avoided his glances and picked at the hole in her sneaker, Jim could tell that her answer was less than honest. He suspected he knew why she was lying. And the young man was certain that the real reason had to be important. But Jim also knew he'd have to find another way to get the truth out of her. Only not here. Not now.

"I'm afraid I didn't hear them," he admitted as a matter of fact. "I wish I had. Maybe I could have prevented the break-in at the clubhouse. But that's water under the bridge. And it's time we were all getting home before someone notices we're missing."

As Jim got up and stretched his long legs, he turned to Bobby and added, "I appreciate your telling me about Rusty, Bob. I know that had to be scary for you. But you don't have to worry. Nothing will happen to me. And I'll keep the note you gave me."

"That's goods to know," the child replied seriously. "And nows you don't gotta worries about Trixie no mores either. She's not gonna stop likin' you. Not for a zillion years anyways."

Trixie's face turned red as Jim chuckled. "Bobby Belden!" she scolded, full of exasperation. "Hush your mouth!"

"Whats?!" the oblivious child spat back irritably. "Was that supposed to be a secrets or somethin'?"

Refusing to answer, Trixie took the big-mouthed boy by his sticky hand. "Do the Bob-Whites still plan on meeting out at the cornfield at seven in the morning, Jim?" she asked.

Giving the Beldens a head start down the trail, the young man leaned back against the tree and sighed. "Given what we've learned today, I think we'd be foolish not to?" he called after the pair. Then, as an afterthought, Jim added, "And bring your swimsuit with you when you come, Trix. It sounds like tomorrow is going to be another scorcher. When we're done, we can take a dip in the lake."

As the pretty girl and little brother faded from view, Jim removed the yellow note from his pocket and dropped down to his knees in the dust. Running his hand over the letters on the page as if they were braille, the shaken boy mouthed each word as he reread them. Ever since Jim had been a little boy, he'd been tortured in his dreams by a boy named Rusty. And now he had some idea why. Funny how life was full of ironic coincidences. Stuffing the screaming reminder away, Jim couldn't help but wonder, "Or was it?"

"I thinks that wents well," Bobby said as he and his big sister marched through the thick woods headed back to Crabapple Farm. "Don'ts you?"

Trixie allowed herself a little laugh. Bobby was indeed beginning to sound like a miniature blonde version of Brian. Why she could almost imagine the child with an anchor beard and mustache. And the entertained girl chuckled a bit more. Maybe she did have another big brother on her hands.

"Yes, I think it went very well," Trixie replied. "Jim believed every word you said, Bob."

"I thinks so too," the earnest boy agreed. "Sos, do you wants to know what else I knows?"

Trixie wasn't sure she did, but she told the child to shoot away.

"Wells," Bobby said, releasing his sister's hand. "First offs, you gotta start listenin' to Mart mores. You know. 'bout sewer rats and stuff. 'Cause he knows things you don'ts. But he's also gotta stop callin' you dumb. On accounta you aren'ts dumb. And you knows things he don'ts. That's 'cause you two shares a brain. You got halfs, and he got halfs. You need to puts your halfs together."

Trixie got a big chuckle out of that one. "OK, we can do that," she giggled, thinking that wasn't too bad. "Anything else, Bob?"

Bobby stopped at the side of the path and asked his sister to retie his dragging shoelace. "Yeah," he went on, as she complied. "Theys also wants you to be Dan's friend. On accounta he gets blues sometimes, and they're 'fraids he'll gives up. He's gonna be a superhero someday and saves lots of people. Dan may gots it bad. But that's growin' his superpowers. Can you dos that?"

This time the little boy's sister didn't take things so lightly. Dan had said at the picnic at Crabapple Farm that he'd been down lately. But he hadn't said why, exactly. "Do you mean They're afraid Dan's going to give up on being a policeman?" she asked. "The Bob-Whites are all, Dan's friends Bob."

"Nos!" Bobby exclaimed, getting oddly upset. "Yous aren't listenin'. Theys wants you to be his friend. His goods friend. And I don't knows about bein' a policemans? But I guess sos?"

Trixie retook the protesting child's hand and dragged him on toward home. "Just calm down," she advised, beginning to lose her patience. "If you must know, Dan and I are already best friends, Bobby. Just like Honey and I are. And I won't let him give up, OK? So is that it? What about Brian and Honey? Do you know anything about them?"

The purse in Bob's lips still showed his anger, and Trixie wondered if he would open up to her again. But after a while, he did.

"Honey needs to learns that just 'cause she's nice to everybodys they aren't always nice back. But Jim was sents to lives with her to keeps her safes and teach hers," he announced as the two exited the trial, which spilled them onto Glen Road. "And Brian's supposed to play pirate mores. Theys likes it. 'Cause if he's gonna be a doctor, he's gotta knows that laughter's medicine too. But Honey's holpin' him theres," Bobby giggled. "She holps him lots. But I'll tells them thats myself. On accounta one day they'll names a baby Robert. But you cant's says anythings 'bout whats I tolds you."

This time it was Trixie who stopped. Swinging Bobby around to face her, she grinned from ear to ear. "Is Brian going to marry Honey?!" she exclaimed, excitedly shaking the young boy's shoulders.

"I can't tells you what I don't knows," the child giggled. "And 'members, you can tells 'em either. But as the now happy pair carried on their way, Bobby started humming a familiar playground rhyme.

Recognizing it, Trixie nearly skipped the rest of the way home! " Kay Eye Ess Ess Eye En Gee!" she silently sang along.

Sunday morning's fire mitigation was tiring. But by mid-afternoon, the Bob-Whites of the Glen, with Mr. Maypenny's help and direction, had accomplished all they had set out to do at the crop circle. If someone did try to set fire to the pattern in the corn, at least now there was a better chance that blaze could be contained.

That didn't mean the young people weren't still nervous about the alien Fabio's prediction. Mr. Maypenny had seen to that with his "I told you so" reaction upon hearing about the mowing Devil's prophesied return. But Trixie and the others had done everything in their power to lessen the chance of destruction should the dire warning prove true. Though Dandy Andy in his dark mirrored sunglasses and pressed uniform had done little but to strut around pompously and watch the young people as they toiled away.

For whatever reason, Trixie had taken a deep dislike to the tightly-strung security guard. Mr. Maypenny seemed to think a lot of him, though. And the gamekeeper had assured the teenagers that if anyone even remotely looked suspicious, Officer Anderson would have them in handcuffs before they could throw the first match. And from personal experience, Trixie decided that this was likely true.

For the most part, though, there'd been very little chit-chat out at cornfield. Mr. Maypenny had equipped the young people with proper eye and ear protection, which had made it difficult to communicate. Plus, having taken on such a vast undertaking, the teens had to work like busy beavers to get done before the sun started to set.

Armed with chain saws, Jim and Brian had pruned lower tree branches to a height of six feet above the ground while Trixie and Honey had carted away the debris. Meanwhile, Mart, Dan, and Mr. Maypenny had been active with shovels, creating a fireline break around the edge of the clearing. It had been arduous work but rewarding. And by the time they were done, the B.W.G.s tired muscles and sunburned bodies were ready to embrace the cool waters of the Wheeler's lake.

As the six dragging teenagers made their way toward the boathouse, it was all Trixie could do to keep from telling Honey about Bobby's big knows-its about the next Robert Belden. But the little boy had made his tickled big sister pinkie-swear that she wouldn't. And the last thing Trixie wanted to do was curse the happy prediction.

So the resolved girl settled on informing Dan of his future career as a life-saving superhero. Trixie had been observing her male friend all morning. And he'd seemed to be in high spirits? However, the somewhat uncomfortable young lady had already decided that she wouldn't tell the dark-haired boy that the aliens They wanted the pair to be "good" friends. She wasn't sure what that meant, exactly. And it was kind of creepy since Dan had recently announced that he thought of Trixie as his best friend.

Catching up with him, before they reached the lake, Trixie grabbed the boy's arm and pulled him to the back of the pack. If Dan wanted the others to know he was destined to become a famous crime fighter, he could tell them himself. Trixie had concluded that this should be a private conversation.

"I think the Bob-White's did a marvelous job out at the crop circle today," she said, breaking the ice. "I sure hope Dandy Andy does his part and keeps a sharp eye on things for us. I'd feel a whole lot better if Spider was watching over it, though. I have a hunch Mr. Anderson was a police academy drop-out. You still plan on attending the academy one day, don't you, Dan?"

Dan grinned at the rambling girl. He had a hunch of his own. His female friend was beating around the bush and had something on her mind. "That's the plan," he told her. "Why do you ask, Trix?"

"Well," she said, returning his grin. "What if I told you that my spooky little brother has been in contact with the aliens again?"

The sharp-looking boy, who was keeping up step, gave Trixie a playful shove. "This doesn't mean we have to split town, does it?" he asked. "The way things went down Friday night, I don't think Ted and the tinfoil underground would welcome us with open arms anymore."

Trixie giggled. "Neither do I," she admitted. "But I don't think we're going to need their help. Bob says the aliens They claim that you're going to be a superhero and save lots of people. So I figure, who needs the Baked-Potato-Heads?"

Dan had a good laugh over that piece of news. "A superhero, huh?" he said doubtfully. "Guess that means I need come up with a catchy name. How does Sewer Rat Man strike you, my darling damsel-in-distress?"

Trixie batted her eyes lashes and put on her best southern drawl. "Why I should think that would strike fear in the hearts of evildoers everywhere," she twittered. "Especially here in Never Land," she added with a straight laugh.

Dan stopped in the middle of the Wheeler's drive, threw his chin high, and put two clenched fists to his hips, striking a stately pose.

As he did, Trixie called out with drippy charm, "My hero!"

Then, both she and Sewer Rat Man doubled over with laughter.

"Yeah, right," Dan choked sarcastically, as the other Bob-Whites glanced back at the silly pair, wondering what they'd found so funny. "Maybe I can con Honey into sewing a costume for me?" the young man went on to suggest with a whisper. "The cape thing might be cool. But definitely no tights. They aren't my style, you know?"

Trixie snickered. There was no surprise there. "What?" she went on, under her breath. "But all superheroes wear tights!"

Dan shoved his friend on up ahead. "Not this one, Tinkerbelle," he said. "Sewer Rat Man, wouldn't be caught dead in them. Got that?"

"Got it," she said with a giggle. "But from what I hear, it's those skewers that you've got to watch out for, Sewer Rat Man. They're much deadlier than tights."

Dan rolled his eyes, having picked up his best friend's trait. He knew it would be a while before he lived this one down. "Superhero, my foot," the sighing boy thought. "That'll be the day."