Chapter: 28

All Burn!

"You'll have to speak up!" Trixie yelled to Honey as the Beldens and their extended family left the bandstand. "I think I've lost my hearing."

The final act of the afternoon's set had been a heavy metal band called the Electric Toasters. The group of long-haired, hard-playing rockers had been right up Mart and Bobby's alley. And Trixie had to admit that she'd sort of developed a taste for the headbanging music too. Only the musician's blaring amplifiers had left her practically deaf.

"I said," Honey enunciated loudly, "I can't wait to see the craft booths. I'm hoping to get some ideas for Christmas."

"Christmas!" Trixie exclaimed, as she dodged an "extraterrestrial" who was juggling plastic hoops. "Why we haven't even had Halloween yet, Honey! Don't rush things. Halloween's my favorite holiday, you know."

Running up behind his sister yelling "Boo!" in her already ringing ears, Mart Belden found himself having to duck as the startled girl spun and took a swing at him. Mart may have been having an up and down day, but as far as Trixie was concerned, that didn't give him license to be so annoying.

"Hey, now! I was only trying to put you in the holiday spirit!" the pesky lad chuckled as he snapped a few close-ups of his near-twin's irate face. "Say camembert!" Mart had been clicking away candidly all afternoon with his mother's slim pocket camera. Moms had lent it to her son, hoping it wouldn't be as conspicuous as his full-size model should the young man accidentally capture someone who didn't wish to be seen.

"Oh, you'll be a spirit before I'm through with you!" Trixie hollered in return. "Bobby, zap him with your Majestic 12 Vaporizer for me, won't you?"

As Mart danced laughingly on ahead, he found himself being sprayed with a shower of sparks and Trixie grinned. Despite the goofy clown's bumpy encounter with Miles, it had turned out to be a perfectly perfect day! And it was only half over!

Nearing the arts and craft tents, the happy group's fascination was lured away by a street magician as he made a ballpoint pen float in midair. The impressive illusion left everyone baffled, as no strings could be seen anywhere - except maybe on the nearby puppet show stage, where the Bob-White clan paused next. There, marvelous marionette space-pirates had stolen the young people's attention -as well as that of the enchanted adults'.

But finally, at long last, Honey was to have her wish. And the starry-eyed girl found herself in a bazaar of handmade treasures.

The local artisans' tables were overflowing with everything from paintings of pastel seascapes to crocheted tissue box covers. So there was something to appeal to everyone's taste. But Trixie had to wonder how people had the patience to do such fine detailed work. She certainly didn't. In fact, just browsing the craft show was making her antsy -especially since her pockets were empty.

Every cent of the young lady's allowance was still going into the Bob-White treasury. They hadn't sold the B.W.G. station wagon yet. And Brian blamed this on the local economy. But Trixie's oldest brother also felt that things would begin looking up once Brandio Aeronautics opened its doors. In the meantime, however, Mr. Wheeler had agreed to loan the teenagers the money to pay their insurance bill. Then, once the car sold, the club members could settle up with him.

But, for now, and for the foreseeable future, Trixie was broke. But thinking along the lines of making money, the restless girl again brought up the subject with her mother of renting a booth at the farmer's market. She and her older brothers had done so before, but Moms had decided that she was just too busy. But the City Park Market was only open in the mornings, and surely Moms could spare a little time away from home if Trixie were to babysit?

Only Mrs. Belden firmly foot down and again said no. After Monday's Town Hall Meeting, Moms was worried about what people might say if she brought in those whopping "radioactive" tomatoes of Mart's. But with a giggle, Trixie decided that the hefty mutants would likely sell like hotcakes with this out-of-the-ordinary crowd.

And many of the browsing people were unusual. But they were interesting and exciting in a way, too. No one seemed to care how they looked or what anyone thought of them. In fact, most of the visitors appeared to be celebrating their uniqueness.

Men, women, and children alike were dressed in T-shirts with witty U.F.O. captions, elaborate costumes mimicking television and movie space heroes, and even a few brave souls opening sporting their tinfoil dunce hats. There were people wearing antennas, pointy ears, and fangs. And all of them were just letting their inner selves shine through. It was really quite refreshing and entertaining to see.

But Trixie wasn't the only one getting bored with the craft show. Mr. Biggle's wooden whirly-gigs had kept her youngest brother preoccupied for a while, but knitted Afghans, no matter how lovely, weren't much fun for little boys. Or big ones, as it turned out.

"Far be it that Master Robert and I interrupt your ladies' rigorous retail therapy," Mart announced after clearing his throat. "But I fear we menfolk are growing weak and will shortly require sustenance to sustain us. Is that not true wee brother?"

"Yeah, it's trues," Bobby said, as he fiddled with a refrigerator magnet that someone had made by painting a rock violet and gluing on a single googly eye. "Mart means we'res getting' hungry. Are we gonna gets somethin' to eats soon?"

Honey smiled and finished paying for a handwoven scarf which she'd picked out for Miss Trask. "All set here," she said, as Mrs. Belden and Trixie noted that they were through too. "Does anyone have any idea where they'd like to eat?" the young lady added as she and friends strolled out from under the tarps.

"I saw a place on the way over called Charlie's Crop Circle Corn Dogs," Dan replied. I can't say I've ever had a corn dog before, but…."

"What? Never had a corn dog?!" Jim hooted. "Gleeps, you are a city boy, aren't you, Dan? Are you ever in for a treat!"

"Sure, If you like deep-fried hot dogs on a stick," Brian countered. "Personally, I'd rather have a Super-Sonic-Super-Sub."

"Or how about a taco from Alien Ole?!" Trixie suggested.

Mart, Bobby, and Honey had different ideas all together, and Mr. Belden chuckled. "I think I know of a place that will please everyone," he said, giving his wife a wink. "Just follow me."

Herding his hungry horde around the crystal reflecting pond, where a pair of hissing swan was demanding breadcrumbs from visitors, Daddy came to a stop in front of a busy fast-food vendor van. Above it's awning, over the concession counter, was the name "Play-At-Ease Pizza". The name had been painted in bold purple letters lined in gold, and the Bob-Whites let out an entertained whoop as they spied it.

Standing off to the side of the mobile restaurant's serving window, by the picnic tables, there was also a cardboard cutout of Bobby and the Lynch twins, garbed in their violet alien costumes. The advertising piece had been cropped from one of the pictures Mart had taken out at the cornfield and then blown up to life-size.

It seemed Bobby had become somewhat of a local celebrity! And what a great surprise it was to all. Mr. Belden had indeed found the perfect place to eat!

"Phil and I gave Tony and his wife rights to use the name and Mart's photo," Mr. Belden told his wife as they got into line behind the excitedly chatting young people. "I've been dying for the kids to see it."

Mrs. Belden grinned and took her husband's arm. "You did good," she told him, giving it a pat. "This is one day they're not likely to forget."

Then, with a sigh, the proud mother duck marveled at her rapidly growing ducklings. How quickly time flew. Why only yesterday, Brian had been in diapers. Yet today, here he was, almost the age his father had been when the teenager had been born.

"I'm glad you were able to take the afternoon off, Peter," Helen Belden confessed, laying her head on the smiling man's shoulder. "I've missed you. And I know the kids have too. Do you think the extra hours will continue once you start working for Mr. Lynch full time?"

Mr. Belden reached up and smoothed his wife's silky hair. He'd missed her too. "I've been thinking about that, Helen," he said. "What if I didn't take the job? I know with three children nearing college age, the money would go a long way, but…."

Mrs. Belden's finished the responsible father's but. "But," she reminded him. "Brian's already got full scholarships lined up. And Mart is well on his way. Plus, there's a thing called students loans, dear. And our children aren't afraid to work. Of course, Trixie…."

This time it was Mr. Belden who completed his rambling wife's sentence. "…will do just fine," he assured her. "Why she's likely to find the Van den Boogaard treasure and be set for life," Peter added with a hearty laugh. "That is if we can keep her from giving it all away to charity, that is."

Helen Belden laughed too.

"Money can't buy the most valuable things in life," Mr. Belden finished. "Like a wife who waits for you by the door with a kiss and a smile every evening."

"Or a husband who sacrifices to let his wife stay home and take care of her family," she replied, smiling softly. "Does that make us old-fashioned, Peter?"

Mr. Belden gave his wife a squeeze. "On the contrary," he replied. "I think it makes us ahead of our time."

"Ahead of our time?" his happy bride laughed.

"That's right," Peter Belden replied, hiding a smirk under the mustache that had won over his beloved so many years ago. "Let's say I 'just knows it'."

After downing their stringy out-of-this-world slices of zesty pizza pie, Mr. Belden sent the older boys to the car to fetch the family's picnic blankets. When the young men returned, the stuffed bunch made their way back toward the reflecting pond.

There, the White Plains Symphony Orchestra was setting up for their Night under the Stars. The concert, which would feature both classical and pop pieces, was free to all, and already the lawn was littered with lounging guests. Folding chairs weren't permitted, so as Brian and Jim selected just the right spots, Mart and Dan spread out the picnic blankets on the grass.

The balloon glow wouldn't be starting until the sun went down, and that was still a couple of hours away. And though Trixie was anxious for the event to begin, she wasn't ready for the day to be over. How much fun it'd been! And oh, how lucky she was to be enjoying it with the people she loved. They were the young lady's real golden pirate treasure. And no matter what the future might bring, Trixie always had today. It'd been a gentle wake-up call to live in the moment. And to be grateful for each one of those moments.

The evening reminded Trixie of the night the Bob-Whites had watched for meteors and seen the U.F.O. Only tonight, she and Jim wouldn't be sharing a blanket. But the disappointed young lady only had herself to blame for that. She should never have broken her parents' trust. So as her red-headed Daniel Boone sat down with Brian and Honey, she gave Mart a resigned push and squeezed in beside Dan. Hopefully, 'no sitty-sitties' didn't apply to all male members of the B.W.G.s. And if her middle brother even mentioned that irritating rule book of his tonight, why she'd likely…

Only as stirring music began to rise to the heavens, the bubbling girl's fervor seemed pretty small in comparison to the vastness of the universe overhead. The opening movement of the concert was Mars, the Bringer of War, from Holst's The Planets. And the powerful, hard-hitting piece drug its listeners along on its ominous driving march.

As if entranced, Trixie became wrapped up in the music. It was as if nothing existed around her except waves of sound. And they washed her emotions this way and that, forbidding the girl to process her thoughts. Minutes were now ticking like seconds. And without pause, the orchestra played on until its serenades gradually became gentler, and they were almost as sweet as lullabies.

Bobby, with his head cradled in his mother's lap, had long drifted off to dreamland, and with a gentle nudge, his father now awoke him.

"I think it's time we head over to the balloon glow," Mr. Belden whispered to his group, breaking the enchanted spell that had gripped them all.

The sun was dipping ever lower in the haze-shrouded sky, chasing its replacement, the moon, from its hiding place in the fading orange and yellow horizon. It would be dark soon. So being courteous to the remaining listeners, the Bob-Whites packed up to go.

Giving his best friend an absent smile as she tucked her straying curls back under their colorful band, Dan admitted that Trixie's company had been "nice" - almost as nice as the distracting music had been. It was too bad it all had to come to an end. Sometimes it was better when he didn't have to think.

Heading toward the soccer field, Trixie dropped back behind the others as Jim gave her a crook of his finger. He'd also cast her a wink, and she wondered what had brought on this streak of daringness.

"Maybe I'm jus' missin' me best lass," her handsome scallywag answered when she inquired. "It's nah easy seein' her cozyin' up wit' another o' me shipmates," he went on half-truthfully. "Brings out the pirate in me, it does."

As Jim looped Trixie's arm through his, she giggled softly and put a finger to her lips, indicating that the salty sea dog needed to keep his voice down. Then she darted her head about nervously. The tingling teen felt like the pair was being watched. And it wasn't a good feeling. But no one seemed to be paying them any mind? So Trixie decided she was likely just being paranoid.

"I've been missing you too," she admitted to Jim softly. "Seems like we hardly ever get a chance to really talk anymore. It's awful when I have to ask Brian how you're coming on your rocket or if you've had any more inquiries on the car. And I don't even dare bring up your name around, Mart. However, he did tell me what happened between your father and Jack Turner at the game last night. I guess that must have been pretty uncomfortable for you?"

"Yeah, you could say that," Jim replied honestly. "But Jack will be moving soon. So it won't be an issue for long. Besides, Dad will only be helping now and then. He has good intentions, but his schedule's just too busy."

Trixie gulped. "You and your father aren't fighting again, are you?" she asked cautiously.

"No, no," Jim replied. "We're actually getting along better than we have in a long time. I think it was good that we cleared the air. When Dad got back from St. Louis, he told me it was time he started acting like the father he always wanted, instead of the one he had. And I made a promise that I was going to stop comparing him to my biological father. Mr. Wheeler is my Dad now, after all. And he's a fine and generous man in his own right. There's a lot I can learn from him."

"Boy, am I glad to hear that," Trixie admitted, letting out a sigh of relief. Then, as goosebumps again rose on her arms, she stopped her companion and turned to look behind her.

"What is it, Trix?" Jim whispered, realizing that something had triggered her spider-sense.

"Maybe nothing?" she admitted. Only as Honey twisted, with a fearful look on her face, Trixie knew someone was stalking their group.

But then, as Miss Wheeler spied Trixie and Jim together, her frown transformed into a smile, and she turned her attention back to whatever tall tale Mart was spinning. And the young couple eased.

"You, know," Jim said as he and his gumshoe friend continued on. "It wouldn't hurt if you and I cleared the air a bit, too, Trix. I'd still like to know why you snuck out of the house to see me on the night the clubhouse was vandalized. You haven't been honest. And it's been bothering me."

Only before Trixie could reply, she caught a flash out of the corner of her eye. "Jim, look! " she hissed. "Over there, by the statue of Washington Irving. It's Stanley Gruber and Mr. Wall from Daddy's bank! I think they are following us!"

Startled, the young man glanced over to where his friend had indicated and then hurried Trixie forward. "Maybe they're on their way to the balloon glow, too," he said. "The bank and the stationary store both closed up at five. The two men are probably just out enjoying the evening together."

"Somehow, I doubt it," Trixie scoffed. "I bet Mr. Wall told the Baked-Potato-Heads that Daddy was bringing us here today. Only until now, I had no idea Dennis Wall was one of them."

"He probably isn't," Jim laughed as he and Trixie caught back up with their group. "Denny is likely just a friend of Mr. Gruber's."

"Wearing a Black Stetson in this weather?!" Trixie argued. "Jim Frayne, you've got to be joking? That hat of his is lined in foil, and you know it. Why I bet if you were to take a deep whiff, you could smell the French fries that were once his brains."

Smirking, the young man was preparing to counter when he noticed that the two fishy fellows did appear to be trailing the Bob-Whites' group. Every time the teens slowed or stopped, Stanley and Dennis did too. And when the B.W.G.s' party started back up, so did their apparent tails. It was suspicious. Trixie was right. But then Jim realized that the shady comrades were being shadowed too.

"Trix, I need you to go upfront with your brothers," the serious boy said, giving his special girl a firm nudge. "Stick close to them until I get back, understand?"

"Why? What do you plan to do!?' the alarmed girl wished to know. "I'm going with you, Jim!" she went on to insist.

Jim's green eyes grew wide and commanding. "No, you aren't," he said. "I don't want to give your parents any more reason to keep us apart. They'll only allow so much. So please, do as I say, Trix," he begged.

When Trixie continued to hesitate and then reached out to grab his arm to keep him from leaving, the understanding boy smiled. "Don't worry," he promised his concerned friend. I won't be gone long. Mr. Wall and Mr. Gruber have company too. Ted Brown's sneaking around behind them. I'm just going to have a quick talk with him. He's my friend. And I believe Ted will be honest with me when I ask what's going on."

As Jim turned and called out to his teacher, the two other lurking Baked-Potato-Heads took off in the opposite direction, and Trixie rejoined her family and friends. "Jim will be right back," she told her parents as they looked at her quizzically. "He just went to say hi to Mr. Brown."

"Ohs. "Kinda like Theys did when they camed to see us," Bobby replied as if his sister had been talking directly to him. "Jim's nice likes that, isn't he, Trixie?"

"Yes, Bobby, he is," she said softly. "Jim's very nice like that."

When the red-headed young man returned, he went directly to speak with Mr. and Mrs. Belden. Trixie couldn't hear what Jim was saying to her parents, but she clearly made out her mother crying, "I told you we shouldn't come to town, Peter!" Moms then rushed to take Bobby's hand, and she pulled the little boy protectively to her side.

"Easy, Helen," Mr. Belden returned as he motioned for the rest of the young people to gather about. "Dennis is as harmless as a fly. Not only are we associates at the bank, but Denny's a friend. He'd never do anything to hurt our family – or anyone else's for that matter. And Stanley Gruber? Why just that angry look on your face would be enough to scare him off."

When Mrs. Belden clicked her tongue, her husband grimaced and added, "But if it will make you feel better, dear, in the morning, I'll go by the police station and have another chat with Sgt. Molinson. But in the meantime, I'm not about to let those two hatted half-wits ruin our evening. We came to see the balloon glow, and I, for one, am not going to miss it!"

"What's happened, Dad?" Brian asked with concern before the others had time to speculate.

"Nothing," his father stressed, again eyeing his upset wife. "We were just being 'watched'. That's all. So come on! We have a show to see! And from what I hear, it's going to be a doozy!"

"I take it the Baked-Potato-Head have been up to their old tricks again?" Dan asked Jim quietly as the young people started off behind the older Beldens.

Jim nodded. "Ted says their glorious leader popped his cork after the Town Hall Meeting Monday night. Mr. Brown's been tossed from their group. Seems the Tinfoil Militias' numbers are swelling, and Ted's concerned about what they might try, so he's been trailing them. Harrison has most of the group's members convinced that Bobby and the Lynch boys are alien hybrids of some kind."

Dan let out an amused snort. "I can see Mart, maybe," he chuckled. "But Bobby and the twins?"

As the slighted Belden boy gave his grinning buddy a slug, Jim smiled and said, "Pretty crazy, right? Mr. Brown thinks the Aluminum Alumni are likely 'watching' Honey and me too – on account of 'Dad's part in rebuilding the aliens' crashed spacecraft'. But Ted warns we need to be careful because the group is developing some plan to stop the 'spread'. Mr. Brown says there's been talk of torching the Pine Complexes and the Crop Circle to quote, 'send a message' to the aliens. He's been so concerned that he went to Sgt. Molinson about it. Only the sergeant admitted there not much he can do unless Mr. Jackson or one of his followers makes a move."

Brian scratched at his anchored chin and shook his head. "I'm surprised our illustrious sergeant hasn't resigned," he remarked. "I have to wonder if he believed what Mr. Brown had to say. If you ask me, the good teacher's as daft as his old pals. I mean, really? Did you catch that stuff he said about aliens coming to Earth to mine for gold at the town Hall Meeting Monday night? How could he come up with such a ridiculous idea? "

"I don't know if the idea really is so ridiculous," Jim replied in his mentor's defense. "Especially when you consider that our own scientists are looking at ways to mine the moon and nearby asteroids for minerals."

"Indeed, I must concur with James," Mart added to his brother. "Mr. Brown's notions may seem avant-garde, but Ted has studied the texts of the ancient Sumerians which speak of deities called the Anunnaki. Mr. Brown, and others like him, suspect that the Anunnaki were not gods but rather extraterrestrials that came to Earth in the far distant past in search of gold to repair and maintain their planet's dying atmosphere. Since the Anunnaki were unable to mine the ore themselves, they genetically engineered primitive humans to do the labor for them. Ted mentioned to our class last spring that he was researching the tablets for a paper he was writing -though he did not elaborate further, as Miles Murdock took jest and began bombarding the gentleman with ludicrous questions."

Trixie grimaced and shook her head. Did everyone have problems with Miles Murdock? It was sure beginning to seem that way.

"Well, even if Sergeant Molinson doesn't believe Ted, I do," she admitted. "I mean, as far as the Baked-Potato-Heads setting fire to the crop circle and Pine buildings, I do. It would fit right in with Fabio's prophecy."

However, Trixie's musing partner wasn't sure she agreed. "Only if we give it a good squeeze," Honey pointed out. "Don't forget, Trixie. The entity who made the circle is also supposed to be the one who destroys it. I don't think the Baked-Potato-Heads stamped the pattern in the corn. I got the impression at the meeting that they are afraid of it, and they believe it's an alien marker or communication of some sort."

Trixie let out a puff of air and then chewed on her lower lip. "Good point," she conceded, at long last. "So I guess the only thing to do is hope that Mr. Jackson and his followers aren't dumb enough to try to implement their plan."

"Oh, they're dumb enough," Dan retorted. "Mr. Jackson proved that when he chased us with that baseball bat, Trix. So I agree with Ted. We need to be careful. But your father's right, too. The Bob-Whites came to have some fun, and I say we get on with it."

Nearing their destination, the B.W.G.s found the lively flocking crowds closing in on them. Grabbing Trixie's hand, for her safety, of course, Jim hoped his special girl's parents and her brothers wouldn't notice in the hurry-scurry of the hubbub. It was hard to say when he'd have another ligament reason to feel her hand in his again. So the somewhat saddened young man decided to indulge in the warmth of it, if only for a fleeting moment.

It never ceased to amaze Jim how tiny Trixie's fingers were - and how fragile she was, despite the tenacity of her spirit. It was something that worried him. And he was sure it must concern her parents too.

The young man didn't blame Mr. and Mrs. Belden for being overprotective. And he scolded himself for already taking liberties with their daughter once today. If Belden's were to ban Trixie from seeing him altogether, why…

But as the perky girl with the big blue eyes looked up at Jim with that kitty-cat grin of hers, the vacillating boy melted. It was worth every risk he'd taken.

"I can't wait to see the balloons floating along, lighting up the sky!" Trixie cried as the happy pair hurried on.

In front of them, the girl's eely little brother, having slipped away from his mother's strangling hold, was now perched on ole cap'n Brian's shoulders, watching for Baked-Potato-Heads. Acting on direct orders from his commander, the wee scallywag was to disintegrate the enemy upon sight– which meant that anyone who was wearing a hat was made victim to the Majestic 12's crackling sparks. Meanwhile, the middle Belden cur was busy documenting the ensuing drama on camera – which to Trixie's pleasure, meant he was too busy to pull out that annoying rule book of his.

"Do you know many balloons will be lifting off tonight?" she blissfully went on to ask her freckled friend.

"There should be ten, including Mr. Masterson's, but they won't actually be taking to the air," Jim replied, laughing as the pretty girl's face fell in a pout. "The balloons remain secured to the ground throughout the show.

You see, Trix, pilots only fly when the winds are the calmest. That's typically just after sunrise or within two to three hours of the sun going down. But just wait and see! You won't be disappointed!"

Trixie hoped that this was true. What fun was a balloon that was roped to the ground? Why it would be almost as sad as seeing a bird locked in a cage!

But Jim had gone on to explain, "Once it's dark enough, the master of the ceremony will shout out 'All Burn!', and the balloon crews will fire up their burners all at once. The hot air balloons will then inflate with the roaring flames lighting them up from the inside like colorful lanterns. Once the 'All Burn' is complete, Mr. Masterson says the club will move on to what they refer to as a 'Popcorn Burn'. That's when the pilots randomly pull on their flames and then extinguish them to the beat of the music being piped over the loud system. It creates a super cool twinkling effect. You'd swear the balloons were the instruments playing the notes."

"That does sound pretty incredible," Trixie admitted as the pair drew closer to the field. "Still, I'd like to see a Mass Ascension someday. I was telling Mart, just this morning, how I wished I could take a ride in one of the balloons. Only it's so expensive. I saw in the newspaper it costs over three hundred dollars, Jim!"

"A full trip is pricey," Jim admitted. "But many pilots, like Mr. Masterson, offer tethered lifts for a fraction of the cost, Trix. The balloon is never freed from its lines, but you do get to go up about one hundred feet in the air for three or four minutes. I've never been, but I hear the experience is really something. In fact, Mr. Masterson may still be giving lifts when we arrive. I'll introduce you to him if you'd like? His son David is in my scout troop."

As Trixie was noting that that would be swell, Moms glanced over her shoulder to take a tally of her ducklings. To her relief, all seven were accounted for, but the doting mother let out an alarmed quack, no matter. "Oh Peter!" she fussed, causing her husband to jerk around. "Just look at what your daughter is up to now! Why, she's holding his hand, Peter!"

Mr. Belden did his best not to smirk. "Now, Helen," he said as he pushed his wife forward. "Brian and Mart are right there in front of her. So I don't believe Trixie's actually breaking any of the rules we set down? A half a dozen of your middle son's, perhaps," he noted with a laugh. "But that's neither here nor there, dear. And you know what they say, Helen? You're only young once…."

Mrs. Belden pursed her lips and gazed up at the man whose eyes were twinkling. "But Peter," she objected, "She's only fourteen..."

"Yes, dear, I know," he said with a sigh. "But you didn't let me finish. People may say you're only young once, but they're wrong, Helen. No matter how old you get, you can still be young. So what do you say, that just for tonight, we look the other way? And allow ourselves to be teenagers again too?"

Then, taking his wife's hand, Mr. Belden whispered something in his surrendering bride's ear.

And Moms let out a girlish giggle so loud that even Trixie blushed.

What exactly the inquisitive detective's father had said was one mystery his daughter would never solve.

But make no mistake about it. Trixie was sure it had something to do with those short-shorts.

Mr. Masterson's hot air balloon may have been leashed to the ground, but as Jim pulled Trixie up to it, the young girl knew her excited friend had been right. The balloon was certainly something to see!

In the air, the bright globe had been breathtakingly beautiful. But it had seemed almost small. Only before her now, the seven-story patchwork giant was nothing less than awe-inspiring. And each time its tall, lank master fed its undulating belly with his gaseous burner, the glorious monster would rumble deeply with thanks and expose its vibrant hues.

"Oh, Jim! It's so spectacular!" Trixie gleefully cried as she watched the balloon's crew help a honeymooning couple into its pilot's woven basket. Then, as the lighter-than-air pocket began to rise, Trixie ran up to the ticket gate to watch the colossal balloon's graceful accent. Now, more than ever, the envious girl wished she could take a ride! Yet she knew she had to content herself with the Night Glow. But that really wasn't all that hard to do.

For in the busy field beyond her, rushing flight crews were already stretching their flapping shells across the dried grass, preparing for the All Burn. This, too, was amazing to witness, and Trixie could hardly wait to see the balloons' mystical shapes take form.

As Jim had noted, nine teams were lined up for the event, not counting Mr. Masterson's, whose balloon was already inflated. And it seemed so many! Yet, the informed boy had also told Trixie that this was only a small display. According to Jim, Mr. Masterson had participated in shows in Colorado and New Mexico with over seventy other pilots! Trixie couldn't even imagine such a thing!

Mr. and Mrs. Belden, as well as the rest of Trixie and Jim's group, were also reveling with wonder as they milled about the grounds. Mart, of course, was having a whale of a time snapping pictures. And it appeared Bobby, who was swinging arm in arm between Brian and Honey, hadn't stopped jabbering.

But Dan, who was more aloof, seemed quieter than usual. Trixie assumed that this was because he was stunned by the grandness of everything going on around him. He'd told her that he'd never been to a hot air balloon show before. But for that matter, none of the Bob-Whites had, except for Jim. And now they were all quite glad that their red-headed president had been so insistent that the B.W.G.s take in the night-time glow!

As the newlyweds in the yellow and red checkered balloon settled back down on Earth, Jim rushed Trixie over to make the pilot's acquaintance. She'd expected Mr. Masterson to be a quiet man. Someone who'd taken up ballooning to escape the hustle-bustle of modern-day life. Only boy was she wrong!

Mr. Masterson may have looked somewhat like a younger version of Mr. Maypenny, but once he opened his mouth, the fast-talking hot air balloonist reminded Trixie a whole lot more of Mart Belden!

Laughing silently to herself, the startled girl wished now that she'd asked her middle brother if she could borrow his half of their brain. This was because Mr. Masterson liked to use big words, and he was quite passionate about his sport.

After she and the friendly gentleman had exchanged their initial "nice-to-meet-yous!" the illuminating pilot had launched into a not so brief history of ballooning, which he then followed up by giving Trixie a short lesson on the anatomy of his hot air balloon.

Once done, Mr. Masterson was attempting to explain the complex art of navigation to the overwhelmed girl when his wife came up.

"Donald will talk your ear off if you let him," she told Trixie with an apology and a laugh. "But I'm afraid I have to interrupt. Dear, it's about time to start the Night Glow," she went on to tell her husband. "David has the intercom system in place. Have you finished with your tethered rides for the day?" Mrs. Masterson was acting as the show's master of ceremonies.

Jim cast the sociable balloonist an urgent glance, and then he asked Trixie to go get her mother.

When the sighing girl rolled her eyes and asked him, "Why?" her frustrated friend had to think of something quick.

"I think your Mom would like to meet Mrs. Masterson," Jim ventured awkwardly. "Mrs. Masterson drives Mr. Masterson's balloon chase vehicle. From some of the stories I've heard, she's gone on some pretty wild off-road adventures. And since your mother used to race, I think the two ladies would hit it off."

Trixie imagined this was likely so, but she had to wonder why it couldn't wait until after the show? She was anxious to see the balloons inflate. Only Jim wasn't taking no for an answer, so in the end, the belligerent young lady complied with the boy's wishes.

But as Trixie was returning with a somewhat bewildered Mrs. Belden, she saw Jim remove a neatly folded bill from his wallet. Handing it to Mr. Masterson, the sneaky boy then gave the grinning gentleman a quick slap on the back. Jim was up to something for sure. And the floored girl was about to find out what.

"Mrs. Belden, I'd like you to meet the Mastersons," Jim said as the adults shook hands. "Mr. Masterson is going to be your pilot this evening. He's agreed to take you and Trixie up in his hot air balloon."

Mrs. Belden's surprised face shone nearly as bright as her awaiting airship. And Trixie, well, she'd already taken to the sky! Only she knew she couldn't let Jim splurge like that, and the deflated girl came plummeting back down to Earth.

"But Jim, it costs way too much!" the disappointed young lady objected.

"Now, Trix," the smiling young man said. "It's only twenty-five dollars a ride. And I've already bought the tickets. Dad gave me a little spending cash, and he insisted that I use it tonight for something fun. And well, the best fun I know is seeing you go up in that balloon."

However, Trixie wouldn't budge. "But you should be the one who goes up," she argued.

Jim shook his head and confessed, "I can't. If you're under eighteen, you need to be accompanied by a parent or guardian. But I'll have other opportunities, Trixie. Tonight is your night. Besides, you wouldn't want to rob your Mom of the chance to go up in a balloon, would you?"

"No," she continued to argue, as Moms looked on with amusement. "But the Bob-Whites have an insurance bill to pay. And you are still out of work…."

"Trixie," Jim said, beginning to get aggravated. "You know the rules. Dues money has to be earned. The money I used for the tickets was a gift, and let's just say I'm re-gifting it. So happy belated birthday!"

Only the guilt-laden young lady, as much as she was dying to go up in the balloon, just wouldn't have it. "But what about the others?" she objected. "It's not fair that I get to take a ride, and they don't?"

Jim took his hands and used them to scrunch his flaming hair. Trixie could be so exasperating at times! He was only trying to do something nice for her?!

"But it's not their Birthdays!" he thundered back.

"Well, it's not mine either!" Trixie shrieked equally loud.

And Moms let out a laugh. If truth be told, Mrs. Belden was actually feeling pretty proud of the two maturing young people at this moment. Her daughter was growing up fine. And Jim was quite the young man. Moms could easily understand what Trixie saw in the boy - which was probably why she was more than a little protective.

But Mr. Masterson was growing impatient, and the teenagers were holding up the Night Glow. So Moms put an end to the bickering.

"Well, I for one and not going to pass up a free ride," Mrs. Belden announced as she led her daughter to their waiting gondola. "Jim, that was very nice of you," Moms added, smiling at the young man. "Trixie, aren't you going to say thank you?"

Sheepishly, Trixie did indeed say thank you, and she meant it from the bottom of her heart. Only Jim knew that. And he gave her one of his special winks as she climbed into the basket.

Once in the air, Trixie gazed serenely down upon Sleepyside, unmindful of her mother and Mr. Masterson's chatter. The lift-off had been a rush, unlike anything she'd ever experienced before. It was exhilarating - but only because it was so extremely calm. And this seemed almost contradictory to the adventurous girl.

Trixie had expected the small gondola to feel unstable as they rose. But it hadn't even given a wobble or a tremor. The ride had been smooth as silk. And the dazzled young lady suspected that if she'd closed her eyes, she might not have even known the balloon had been moving.

But now, at full altitude, Trixie waved down at a beaming Jim and then looked to the West, hoping to spot Crabapple Farm nestled among the rolling hills. Only sadly, along Glen Road, the trees thickened, and all she could make out was her house's chimney.

However, perched majestically on the rise above the trees, Manor House was clearly visible. Though it, too, would soon be blocked from view, as ominous grey thunderheads were building in the skies around it.

Trixie wondered now what Mart must be thinking as he watched her from the ground, floating there among the coming storm's straying whips. Mr. Know-it-all had said that rain wasn't predicted until September. But apparently, the Farmer's Almanac was wrong. And she crossed her fingers, hoping the storm wouldn't postpone the balloon glow.

But as the heavy scent of scorched wood reached Trixie's besieged nostrils, she was suddenly gripped with a sickening feeling. Frantically searching the forested plot which Dan and Mr. Maypenny called home, her worst fears were confirmed when orange licks of flame suddenly shot up from behind the trees like reverse bolts of lightning. After letting out a bloodcurdling scream, the terrified girl begged Mr. Masterson to take the balloon down. Those weren't clouds that were rapidly smothering the landscape beyond them. They were billows of smoke. Someone had set fire to the crop circle!