Chapter 57

In contrast to the hustle and bustle of the towns business district, all was eerily quiet back at the Rethink Avenue cul-de-sac. With the end of autumn fast approaching, the sound of hissing cicadas and crickets ever present on warm summer nights had disappeared, replaced by a still silence. While the bitter cold kept most of those who elected to pass up the parade indoors, there was one individual who decided to brave the elements, all for the sake of justice.

Jonny 2x4, typical of his "loner" persona, had opted out of going to the parade when asked by his friends. The large headed boy had once again transformed himself into Captain Melonhead, and had taken up post in his tree house as he did every night. The boy had spent the last hour "on watch", using a telescope to observe Rethink Avenue, while his partner "Splinter the Wonderwood kept watch over the lane.

Jonny panned he telescope up and down the street, observing absolutely nothing save for the asphalt lining the street.

"Well Splinter," said Jonny, "It's quite the quiet night. But we must remember that crime can strike at any time, and the grinches are just waiting for us to let our guard down so they can initiate their evil plans."

Jonny placed his hand up to his ear, and leaned in the direction of Plank for a few moments.

"No, we don't have to worry about the parade buddy," said Jonny, "There are plenty of law enforcement officers there to handle any criminals that may decide to strike. I believe Harlequins father is on patrol tonight, and if crime fighting runs in the family, I am sure they are good hands!"

At that point, the sound of three loud knocks emanated from the center of the treehouse; specifically from the area of the trap door acting as the entrance/exit of the structure.

"Identify yourself!" said Jonny.

"It's me!" said the voice of Nazz, "Unlock the door it's freezing out here!"

"One moment please, I'll buzz you in," said Jonny as he made his way over to the trap door, and disengaged the small sliding bolt. He dashed back over to his chair, sat down, and made a loud buzzing sound with his voice, attempting to imitate the sound of an electromagnetically activated lock.

At that moment, Nazz pushed the hatch into the fully open position, climbed into the tree house, and closed the door behind her. She had donned her "Harlequin Honeydew" superhero outfit, as she did every night upon entering the melon cave for "neighborhood watch" in exchange for Jonny keeping her Christmas surprise a secret. However, while the charade began as a simple obligation due to blackmail, the mysterious activities surrounding the presumed Eddy/Lindsay affair had piqued Nazz's interest, and managed to become her new motive for playing the role of Harlequin Honeydew.

"Harlequin Honeydew?" asked Jonny, "Speak of the devil, Splinter and I were just discussing how much of a wonderful asset you are to our crime fighting team. We didn't expect you to report for duty for another hour, is there an emergency?"

"As a matter of fact, there is," said Nazz, "Have you seen Eddy yet?"

"Negative," said Jonny, "I would have assumed citizen Eddy had plans to attend the parade."

"Well he's not there dude," said Nazz with an air of concern, "And he isn't telling Lee where he is. She says when she asks, he's making up excuses and stumbling over his words a lot. This is seriously uncool, I hate guys like that. I mean, Lee can be rough around the edges, but I like her, and she's my best friends sister. I have an obligation to look out for her best interest."

"Hmmm," said Jonny, "You have a point Harlequin, but infidelity is a serious accusation, and we need to be sure we have all of the proper evidence prior to fingering our culprit."

"What more do we need?" said Nazz, "The secret notes, the fact that he's not at the parade, the fact that he's stumbling over his words and being really vague. I mean, c'mon, a Christmas surprise? Give me a..."

At that point Jonny decided to interject.

"Hold you thoughts Harlequin," said Jonny as he placed his eye on the telescope, "I've detected motion on the melon scope."

Jonny spent a few seconds panning the telescope up and down the street, and bringing the lens into focus, eventually training it's eyepiece towards the vicinity of Eddy's house.

"Well I'll be," said Jonny, "I have positive confirmation on Citizen Eddy, due west on Rethink Avenue."

"Let me see" said Nazz as she picked up a pair of binoculars and placed them over her eyes.

Even with the minimal light provided by the lamps peppered along the street, and the light emitted by the Rethink Avenue Christmas tree, the darkness of night made it difficult to identify the figure making it's way out of Eddy's yard and onto the sidewalk. Due to the low light conditions, and the shadows falling on that particular area of the street, the only detectable features of the individual in question was the shape of their silhouette. From the treehouse, the shaped appeared quite stout, and appeared to walk rather slowly with it's hands in it's pockets, just as Eddy did. In addition, the shape displayed three protuberances from the area of it's head, characteristic of Eddy's hairstyle.

"It is him," said Nazz as they continued to observe the events occurring below , "Let's just see what kind of surprise the little sneak is supposedly working on for Lee."

Unfortunately, the dynamic duo failed to realize that they had case of mistaken identity; under better lighting conditions, it would have been quite easy to see that the silhouette in fact belonged to Rolf, who was on his way to Lindsay's house for dinner.

Rolf had stopped by Kevin's house earlier that day to request his assistance on how to make a great first impression. Preoccupied with the thoughts of his missing bike, as well as his new workout routine (inspired by Eddy's body transformation, he had begun lifting weights in an attempt to catch up to his friend), Kevin offered him the opportunity to borrow some of his cologne, as well as a dress sweater for the night, allowing Rolf access to his room while he attended the parade. Due to Rolf exiting Kevin's house via the side alley, it appeared as if he was leaving Eddy's house via his personal bedroom door.

In addition, Rolf had retrieved Lindsay's order of meats from the Polish Butcher shop as promised. The box was relatively heavy, causing the boy to hunch over as he carried it down the street, curtailing his usual tall height and making him appear short and stout from a distance. Finally, due to Rolf's belief that Lindsay adored exploring foreign cultures, he had decided to share yet another strange custom with his "Sweet Babushka". In Rolf's culture, it was customary for men to arrive to the first feast shared with the woman they were courting wearing a potted plant on their head. This pot contained three long pieces of a certain herb, each resembling a species of tall grass; from a distance and under the low light conditions, it was quite easy to mistake it for Eddy's hairline.

Under ordinary circumstances, due to his pride as a "son of Shepard", and his love of assisting his parents in their butcher shop downtown, Rolf would be quite enthusiastic regarding anything involved with the delivery/processing of meats (especially around the holidays). However, rather than humming folk tunes and smiling happily as he made his way down the street, the prospect of going on his first "date" had left him nervous wreck. Although the temperature was quite chilly, the boy appeared as if he were within a sauna, with beads of sweat dripping from underneath his headpiece at an alarming rate as he continued on his way towards the second cul-de-sac.

Meanwhile, inside the Statorowski residence, Lindsay had decided to spend some time relaxing on her bed. The blonde girl had kicked off her high heeled boots, and removed her signature maroon coat for comfort, leaving her wearing a purple short-sleeved undershirt, blue jeans and a pair of black socks. She was laying with one arm behind her head, placing it strategical to aid in comfortable viewing of her wall-mounted, 52" flat screen television. At the foot of the bed was Lindsay's lockbox, sitting on the floor in it's unlocked and open position.

Lindsay was currently watching what appeared to be a recorded local news interview. On the screen were two women, each sitting across from each-other on stools. The woman on the right, and older blonde woman of about fifty years of age donned a long black dress and black high heels, and was sitting with her legs crossed as she cradled a few pages of notes in her hand. She appeared to be a reporter, conducting an interview on the woman sitting on the opposite stool; a young, very slender blonde haired woman, appearing to be in her early twenties. This particular woman was wearing a blue business jacket, dress pants, and brown high heeled shoes. She sat with her legs crossed as well, appearing as if she were a mirror image of the reporter; she smiled exuberantly as she answered the interviewers questions, keeping her hands folded on top of her thighs as she did so. On the bottom of the screen, the news stations logo was digitally superimposed on top of the picture, as well as the words "Local Young Women In Business" providing a viewer into the insight of the program.

Lindsay stared at the television, focused on the program as she seemingly attempted to hold back tears, all the while displaying a disheartened expression. She let out a melodramatic sigh, at which point the doorbell (in the tune of Westminster chimes) began to sound, signifying Rolf's expected arrival. At that moment, Lindsay jumped off of the bed and reached for her fur coat, currently hanging from the bed canopy for convenience. She placed her arms inside and zipped it up, after which she ran over to the entertainment center and ejected the DVD she had been viewing. She placed it inside it's jewel case for protection, then gently returned it to it's usual stowed position inside her lock box. She closed the box, and after ensuring it was properly secured, slid it back underneath her bed. Finally, she turned towards the mirror mounted on her vanity, ensured her hair was presentable, and made her way out of her room and down the stairs to the front door.

As the tall diva opened the door, she appeared quite taken aback as Rolf came into view, due to the fact that he was wearing a potted plant as if it were a crown. Otherwise, the boy appeared quite presentable, wearing a pair of black dress shoes, a pair of dark blue neatly pressed jeans, and a black dress sweater that appeared to be at least one size too small for him. On top of the dress sweater, Rolf had donned one of Kevin's brown dress jackets, borrowed for the occasion.

A brief moment passed, at which point Lindsay shook off her surprise, and returned to "character" by adopting a sultry grin.

"Hey cutie!" said Lindsay in a flirty voice, "I'm so happy to see you, come on in it's cold out there!"

Lindsay moved to her side, and lifted her arm towards the interior of the house as if to welcome Rolf in. Slowly but surely, the boy nervously took her up on her offer, stepping onto the shiny tiled floor as Lindsay closed the door behind him. As Lindsay engaged the door latch, Rolf took a few moments to observe his surroundings; the foyer was a 14' x14' room, with an 18 foot ceiling. A grand staircase, it's treads, risers and banister made of cherry, rose along the right and wall, meeting a mezzanine overlooking the foyer at the top. An elaborate crystal chandelier hung from the center of the ceiling, accenting the elaborate stain-glassed window adorning the area above the door. Wainscoting, painted in a dull grey hue, lined the lower five feet of the walls, while the remainder was covered with floral patterned, light gray wallpaper. The decorative style of the foyer, and the remainder of the house, was typical of interior design in the Victorian period (late 1800s), reflecting Mr. Statorowski's admiration of the era.

As Rolf admired his surroundings, Lindsay took the box holding the meats out of his hands and placed it on the floor. She then took hold of his coat, and began removing the sleeves from his arms.

"How's my little sweet muffin this evening?," said Lindsay as she finished removing the coat, while delivering Rolf as small kiss on the cheek. She proceeded to hang it neatly on the walnut coat rack adjacent to the door.

"Rolf is quite pleased to see his Sweet Babushka once again," said Rolf, "But Rolf's head grows moist, and the beads of the sweat drip down Rolf's face as efficiently as the waters of the sky fall down the gutters of Rolf's chicken coop. Rolf has never participated in a...how do you say, 'date' in accordance with your strange local customs."

"Don't be nervous sweetie," said Lindsay, as she leaned into Rolf's face, "It's just me, and I like you just the way you are."

At that point, Lindsay's eyes slowly trained upward towards Rolf's headpiece, and her face transformed to one of slight disgust.

"But why don't we just get this off of your head to give you a little bit of relief, okay?" asked Lindsay as she removed the pot from his head, holding it in her hands.

"You like?" asked Rolf, "Rolf has been told by the small fry-Ed boy smitten with the eldest sister of Kankers that you have a keen interest in the cultures of Rolf's old country. Rolf has decided to bring you the planter of Pliebes. Each herb represents a pillar of the affections, and the presentation of which is a long standing demonstration tradition upheld by Rolf's many male ancestors."

Lindsay continued to hold the pot in a state of confusion.

"Would you like Rolf to explain moral the significance of each herb?" asked Rolf.

"Maybe later Hun," said Lindsay as she slowly placed the pot on the floor next to the door. She then grabbed Rolf's hand, and began leading him towards the living room, "Let's go get my dad. It's time for dinner."

The living room of the house was a cozy space, furnished with a leather couch and armchair, green floral wallpaper with walnut baseboard, and authentic Tiffany Co. Stain-Glassed Lamps in the corners. Although the room decor seemed akin to a walk-in time capsule, the room was not without modern amenities; on the wall was a large plasma screen television, flanked by custom built surround-sound speakers, as well as a forty gallon marine aquarium, containing several colorful species of coral and tropical fish.

Chuck was currently tending to his prized aquarium, taking pH and temperature measurements as he hummed a tune to himself. Once he ensured everything was in order, he kneeled down in front of the aquarium to admire his fish. As the eccentric, fun-loving man made faces at fish near the glass, puffing his cheeks as if he were a pufferfish, Lindsay and Rolf entered the room. The duo made their way over towards the fish tank, their reflection appearing in the glass next to Chucks own.

"Dad, Rolf's here," said Lindsay as she approached Chuck from behind.

"Alright," said Chuck in an enthusiastic manner, as he stood up, turned around and held his hand out towards Rolf, "Good to you see you again Rolf, thanks for coming to dinner."

"Yes sir," said Rolf as he shook Chucks hand, "The pleasure of the feast is mine, Mr. Stat...stats or...stat.."

"Call me Chuck," said Chuck, quelling Rolf's difficulties in pronouncing his last name, "And if you have trouble pronouncing our last name at first, don't sweat it. It is a quadrisyllabic word after all, containing three alveolar consonants, and one labialized velar consonant. Kind of complicated when you really break it down. It will eventually roll off the tongue though."

Chuck giggled at his intellectual joke.

"Seriously Daddy," said Lindsay in a pedantic, yet playful manner, "You're such a dork."

"Takes one to know one!" said Chuck as he stuck his tongue out in Lindsay's direction, causing his daughter to playfully slap him as he continued to giggle.

Rolf smiled as he observed the playful interaction between father and daughter. Undoubtably, his naive and carefree nature did not allow him to fully grasp the scope of the events playing out before him. He was being given an opportunity afforded only to the Statorowski family, and previously to the Kanker sisters; the opportunity to witness Lindsay with her proverbial guard down, feeling free to be herself in front of trusted individuals.

As the two Statorowskis engaged in their playful banter, Rolf's eyes began to wander around the room, eventually honing in on the wooden coffee table located in front of the sofa. On the coffee table was an open box depicting a picture of a John Deere Tractor, with the words "authentic 1:16 scale model" displayed underneath. Scattered around the box was a smorgasbord of small plastic components, some of which were still attached to the webbing characteristic of model packaging, while others sat staged, ready to be assembled to the partially completed wheelbase of the replica.

"Hoho," said Rolf as he smiled in Chucks direction, "Rolf is surprised to see a miniature version of the tractor Rolf's family has used to till the soils for generations. You like tractors, yes?"

"Are you kidding!?" said Chuck, "I love all kinds of old vehicles. Ever since I was a little boys I've been obsessed with all things heavy machinery, especially diesel. Tractors, combines, bulldozers, and especially trucks. This is just my newest model, I got a ton completed already."

"Rolf is also fascinated with the workings of the diesel engine," said Rolf, "From an early age, Rolf has been tasked with the responsibility of maintaining the family tractors, a tall task for Rolf, as our livelihood depends on it."

"Nice," said Chuck, "What kind of power are you working with?"

"Hmm," said Rolf, "Detroit Diesel...how do you say...inline 4?"

"No kidding!" yelled Chuck, "I love Detroit Diesel. I just bought a V6 Series 92 TA from the city transit authority. They used them on all those old Neoplan buses they're currently deactivating, and they're auctioning off all the old parts. I'm working on restoring it right now, it's out in the garage!"

Chuck turned towards Lindsay.

"You picked the right guy Little T", said Chuck, "He's already won me over just by mentioning Detroit Diesel!"

Chuck laughed at his own joke.

"Great," said Lindsay rather sarcastically, after which she glanced towards the ornate grandfather clock sitting across the room. After noting the time, she walked towards Rolf's position, took possession of the package Rolf had brought with him, and began making her way to the kitchen.

"Well, sounds like you two have a lot to talk about," said Lindsay, "Why don't you take Rolf to the garage and show him the Detroit...whatever, while I get dinner situated."

"Nonsense," said Chuck, "Rolf's your guest, not to mention your boyfriend, and you always make dinner when it's just us. You two watch some tv while I heat it up."

"No, I don't mind," said Lindsay rather assertively, "Go to the garage, I'll take care of it!"

Chuck paused momentarily before replying.

"Alright, have it your way!" said Chuck happily as he began to lead Rolf in the direction of the garage, "Don't forget the duck blood soup, Dyt's got it waiting in the fridge it just needs a warmup."

"Oh, I won't forget." said Lindsay under her breath as she exited the living room.

In a matter of seconds, Lindsay had entered the kitchen. She approached the counter, placed the container she was carrying on top, and proceeded to opened it. The contents of the box included the meat Lindsay had ordered earlier that day, as well as a pot of stew Rolf had brought for the occasion. Lindsay removed the stew from the box, placing it on the center island out of the way of the cooking surface, after which she opened the refrigerator.

On the top shelf sat a plastic container of Chucks favorite cultural concoction, Duck Blood soup, crafted by Edyta earlier that day while Chuck was at work and Lindsay was in school. Lindsay removed the container from the icebox, and glanced upon it with disgust as she walked it across the room towards the garbage can.

"Whoops," said Lindsay sarcastically as she dropped the container into the bin, after which she made her way back over to the counter. She then reached upward, opening one of the overhead cabinets, and removed a cook book containing Polish recipes.

The entire book was written in the polish language, however the table of contents was easily deciphered by the fluent Lindsay. She scanned the text, her long pink finger nail grazing the paper line by line until she found the words she was looking for:

Czernina...Strona 13

(Blood Soup...pg. 13)

Lindsay turned to the applicable page of the cookbook and, with haste, began removing the ingredients she had purchased earlier that day from the box, intent on making her own rendition of her fathers favorite soup.