*All ages
Disclaimer: To Golden Books-I'm feeling nice right now (or very uncreative) so I'll just admit that you own them, but I'm not making any profit, so please don't sue me...
A few things: First, I need to thank DQ, whose wonderful fanfic, "The Mystery of the Haunted Mine," put the idea for this story into my head. Also, to add to the list of people who could sue me, I need to acknowledge that the lyrics to Sixpence None the Richer's song, "Kiss Me," inspired a scene or two.
Awakenings
by Amy
Seventeen-year-old Trixie Belden paused from her scenery watching out the passenger seat window to look at the young man who was driving. Handsome, with fiery red hair and piercing green eyes, Jim Frayne was one of her best friends in the world.
Although she and Jim seemed to be able to read each other's moods, Trixie was confused with her present situation. Just yesterday, Jim had received a call from a Mrs. Ellison, the daughter of his former neighbor, Mrs. Clark, from Rochester, where he had lived with his parents before his father died. Mrs. Clark had allowed Jim's family to store some things in her attic when they moved from their spacious home to an apartment after his father's medical bills started to add up. Now, Mrs. Ellison was helping her mother clean out the attic, and had invited Jim to go through his family's belongings.
Trixie watched Jim stare ahead at the highway with no expression on his face. However, the hard grip he had on the steering wheel, which had turned his knuckles white gave away his inner turmoil. Trixie wished she knew what to say. Part of her wanted Jim's adopted sister, Honey, with her instinctive sensitivity, there in the car with them. However, Honey was in Canada with her parents and all the rest of the Bob-Whites were busy with work and other responsibilities. Only Trixie had been free to accompany Jim.
Trixie opened her mouth to say something to end the stiff silence in the car, but she could think of nothing that seemed appropriate. How was she supposed to understand what it was like to return to one's childhood home and go through the things of one's dead parents? She had always lived a happy and stable life at Crabapple Farm with her parents who were still alive.
It was Jim who finally ended the silence. "We're almost there," he said. His voice had a strange, monotone quality which Trixie had never heard before. Her heart ached as she thought about how hard this had to be for him. Rarely had she heard him mention his mother and father and she knew it still hurt him deeply to talk about them.
They exited the freeway outside of Rochester. After traveling backroads for awhile, Jim turned the car into a long, winding driveway. Towering trees spread their branches above them, creating a canopy of green as they drove up to an old, red farmhouse, which reminded Trixie a lot of her own home, despite the different color.
As Trixie stepped out of the car and stretched her legs, she heard the door of the house open and a voice exclaim, "Jim Frayne! Look at you all grown up!" A woman who looked about thirty came out the front door. She was quite pretty, being of medium height with short, brown hair. Behind her, came a somewhat older woman who looked remarkably like her daughter, but with graying hair. Both ran up to Jim, who Trixie could tell was quite embarrassed by the fuss being made over him.
After receiving hugs from both women, Jim held his hand out towards Trixie. "This is my friend from Sleepyside, Trixie Belden. Trixie, this is Mrs. Clark, and I guess Mrs. Ellison now."
Mrs. Ellison laughed as she reached out to shake Trixie's hand. "Jim must still see me as his babysitter. But, believe it or not, I've been married for almost ten years. I must admit though, seeing Jim now makes me feel pretty old. I still think of him as a four-year-old who used to disappear on me every time I turned around for a moment."
Trixie laughed as she replied, "I have a younger brother who does the same thing to me whenever I'm supposed to be watching him."
Mrs. Clark also shook Trixie's hand. "It's nice to see that Jim has such a pretty friend. Don't you think so, Mary?"
"Mom!" Mrs. Ellison admonished as she noticed Trixie was turning pink. "Stop embarrassing our guests!" She turned to Jim and Trixie. "Won't you come in and have something to drink before going up to the attic?" Jim and Trixie followed the two women into the farmhouse.
The next half hour was filled with playful banter, as the women tried to outdo each other in asking Jim questions about his life in Sleepyside. Their dialogue reminded Trixie of sitting in another farmhouse kitchen in upstate New York. Mrs. Smith had possessed the same sense of hospitality that Trixie was observing in Mrs. Clark and her daughter. Trixie thought fondly of the adventure in which she and Honey, along with Honey's governess, Miss Trask, had traveled in the Wheeler's trailer, The Silver Swan, to find Jim, who had run away after Ten Acres had burned to the ground. There had been a happy reunion in Mrs. Smith's kitchen when they had finally found him. Soon after, Honey's parents had adopted Jim. Now I can't imagine my life without him, Trixie thought. There was no one quite like Jim. Any task that could be deemed worthwhile, Jim could do and he could do it well. Although she would barely admit it, even to herself, Jim had become someone very special to her.
Trixie was brought out of her thoughts, as Mrs. Ellison suggested that she show them to the attic. As they stepped over the threshold into the large room, Mrs. Ellison pointed to a corner on the opposite side of the room. "Everything in that corner belonged to your family, Jim." Noticing the serious expression on Jim's face, she gave his arm a squeeze and said, "I'll leave the two of you alone. Go ahead and leave anything you don't want. We already have a charity coming out to pick up the things we don't need. We'll just add whatever is left to the pile." With one last smile, she turned and went back down the stairs.
Jim took a deep breath and looked at Trixie. "I guess we should get started." He headed over to the corner. The two of them started to sift through a trunk of clothing. Each time he held a piece of clothing which had once belonged to his parents, Jim seemed to cringe.
Realizing how hard this was for him, Trixie reached out and gave his hand a squeeze. He managed to smile at her, although deep sorrow was still apparent in his eyes. "Jim," she began. "Why don't we just leave all the clothing? I'm sure the charity will find a good use for it." She led him to several cartons a few feet away.
Trixie had started to go through a box of various papers, when several large, brown books made of leather caught her eye. "Jim, come here for a second," she said.
He walked over to where she was standing. "Photo albums?" he asked. "I wonder why Mom didn't bring them with us to the apartment?" Not quite believing his luck, he sat down on the floor with the books next to him.
Trixie sat down next to Jim as he opened the first album. At the first picture, Trixie could not help giggling. A small boy with red hair was taking a break from running through the sprinkler to give the camera a big smile. "Aw, what a cute kid," Trixie said. "Whatever happened?"
"Very funny," Jim replied.
For the next hour, the two of them looked through the photo albums. As Trixie asked questions about the various pictures, Jim answered with stories about good times not too different from those she had always shared with her own family. She had to laugh when she saw Jim as a four-year-old with a small toilet plunger stuck on his knee. "Jim, do I even want to know?"
"It was my mother's birthday, and someone gave her that for a gift," he told her. "All the older neighborhood kids were sticking it on their arms and legs. When they pulled it off it made a really great noise. I wanted to make the noise, too, but I didn't have enough strength to pull the plunger off once I had gotten it stuck. Being a sympathetic group of people, they took my picture instead of helping me." He laughed. "That became a neighborhood legend."
As Jim turned to the last page, the laughter died on his lips. Before them was a family photo in which Trixie estimated Jim to be about ten years old. Outside by a beautiful garden, a tall, red-haired man who looked exactly like Jim would in ten years, had his arm around a petite woman with beautiful, long blonde hair. His hand was firmly placed on the shoulder of their son who stood in front of them. All three smiled happily at the camera. "This was the last picture we ever took as a family," he said simply.
Trixie reached out her hand and softly brushed the plastic covering the picture, wishing she could have met the parents who had raised her good friend. Looking up at Jim, she noticed the tears which had started to form in his eyes. As he started to turn away from her, she gently put her hand to his face, forcing him to look at her.
Realizing there were no words for the moment, she merely took him in her arms. As his own arms wrapped around her, he let the tears fall. Smoothing back his hair, Trixie wondered how it was possible to feel so connected to someone. It was if Jim's pain and experience was her own. For a long time, they merely sat there with their arms around each other. Finally, he took a deep breath. "Thank you," he whispered, softly placing a kiss on her hair. As he placed his cheek next to hers, Trixie breathed in the slight smell of his cologne. Suddenly, she became aware of how close he was to her.
Trixie's cheeks were flushed as she pulled away. Trying to busy herself, so as not to look at Jim, she flipped through the photo album quickly. In her haste, a small envelope fell out of the back. Picking it up, she noticed the big block letters which read, "HAPPY BIRTHDAY, JIM."
She handed it to Jim, who looked at it in wonder. He brushed the writing on the letter lightly with a far away look in his eyes. After a few moments, Trixie could not stand the curiosity which was building up in her. "What is it?" she asked.
"It's from my father. Every year for my birthday he hid my present somewhere in the woods and then made a treasure map for me to find it. I always thought my dad was too sick to remember my tenth birthday." He paused for a moment, as if trying to control his emotions. Finally, he looked at her with sad eyes. "He died the next week."
Trixie knew she was going to burst into tears if she did not something quickly. She stood up and said, "Well, what are we waiting for? Let's follow the map."
Jim looked up at her in surprise, and then smiled. As he got to his feet, he replied, "I know better than to keep you from a mystery." The two of them went downstairs and loaded the car with the few things Jim had decided to keep. They said goodbye to Mrs. Clark and Mrs. Ellison, with promises to keep in touch.
Driving for only a few minutes before pulling over to the side of the road, Jim turned to Trixie and said, "We'll start here." Trixie understood he wasn't quite ready to visit his old home, much less face the new people that probably lived there. She could not imagine visiting a strange family at Crabapple Farm.
As Trixie followed him through the dense underbrush, she felt thankful that she was with Jim, who was familiar with the area, let alone a master woodsman. I would have no idea how to get back to the car! she thought. Finally, they reached a small clearing. The few small trees and the beginning stages of the underbrush alluded to the fact that it had not been used for several years.
Jim studied the map carefully. "I figure if we started in the back yard and followed the directions, it would lead us here, where my dad and I used to camp. From here, I think we should go north."
Trixie waved her hand at him. "You know how long it took me to be able to navigate correctly through the game preserve. I'll just follow you."
For the next hour, they traipsed through the woods, pausing occasionally to consult the handmade map. Trixie had to admit that the woods around Jim's childhood home were extremely beautiful. Tall, straight trees towered above her, creating a shield from the late afternoon sun. The sound of a nearby stream added to the peaceful noise of the birds chirping above. No wonder Jim and his father spent so much time together here, she thought as she paused to watch the water of the stream gurgle over the stones in its bed.
Trixie was brought out of her reverie, as Jim stopped abruptly several yards away from her. He looked at the tree before him. "I would have expected him to make the hiding place a little harder," he said with a wry smile.
Trixie looked at the woods around her. "A tree in the middle of nowhere? How more random can you get?"
Jim motioned her to look upwards. Lifting her eyes, she saw a perfectly hidden house only visible from directly beneath the tree. "Jim! It's wonderful!" she exclaimed.
"My dad and I built it together. He was an amazing carpenter. Actually he was amazing at anything he tried."
A lot like his son, Trixie thought. She looked at him and replied, "Jim, I really wish I could have met him and your mother."
Jim looked at her intently with his green eyes. "I wish you could have, too," he said.
Trixie felt herself begin to turn pink under his gaze. Not quite able to handle her feelings, she motioned towards the tree. "What about the birthday gift? Is it still here?"
Jim and Trixie searched around the tree for a few minutes. The trunk was quite large, but did not have a cavity like the "LMN" tree at Sleepy Hollow in which Trixie had found another birthday gift years before.
"Your father wouldn't have randomly left it out here," Trixie said. "There must be some sort of marking."
"Yes, but he also didn't expect me to only find the map now. Any mark in the woods would be long replaced by new vegetation. Face it, the gift is either buried where we will never find it, or someone else found it a long time ago."
"Quit being so rational," Trixie said, taking the map from him. She studied the slightly yellowed paper carefully. The center was filled with the marks and directions which had led them to the treehouse. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Turning the paper over, she was about to hand it back to Jim, when faded writing in one corner caught her eye.
"'Keep your head high and look to the sky. You miss so much of life if you don't.'" she read. She looked up. She could see only the floor boards of the treehouse through the branches above.
Jim also looked at the treehouse above him. After a few moments, he said, "I still don't see anything. But, I bet you were right about some kind of marking up here. Unfortunately, the vegetation has grown back." He looked at the vast area around him. "I guess the only thing left to do is dig up the whole tree," he said with a disappointed laugh.
"No wait!" she said. "There's a small 'x' right above where you are standing! You can barely see it because of a branch. Was it there before you moved?"
Jim looked up in amazement. "I've never seen it before." He smiled at Trixie. "Very impressive, Sherlock."
He pulled out a large utility knife, and started to scrape away the dirt. Finding a sturdy stick, Trixie joined in the search. The ground was rather moist and easy to move, and they made quick progress. Soon, the two of them heard the clang of metal hitting metal as Jim's knife stopped abruptly. Quickly removing the rest of the dirt, he pulled up a small safe box. Turning it over in his hands, he looked at it in awe, not quite believing they had actually found the gift from his father.
Looking up at Trixie, who was impatiently waiting to see what was in the box, he said, "If you don't mind, I think I'll open this later at home."
Trixie's curious nature was disappointed, but she knew that it had already been an emotional day for him. She smiled and replied, "Alright, but only if you promise to show me your present eventually."
Jim laughed, "Don't worry. The least I can do for you after finding this gift is to appease your curiosity." He noticed Trixie still looking at the treehouse above them. "There is one thing I can show you now, though," he said. Taking her hand, he continued, "Please follow me, ma'am. I will give you the ten cent tour," he teased.
Trixie dug into her pockets. "I guess I'm out of luck," she said handing him a nickel.
Jim scratched his chin for a moment. "This does present a problem. Well, I suppose for you, I could make an exception." Wagging a finger in her direction, he continued, "Just don't tell anyone. I don't want my reputation as a shrewd businessman to suffer."
Trixie followed Jim up the ladder. As she emerged through the trap door which served as the entrance, she gasped. Before her was a room larger than she had expected to be so well hidden by branches. On the opposite wall, several shelves were filled with various comic books, rocks, and other items which reminded Trixie of Bobby's junk collection at home. Above her, a skylight was open, exposing the pink and orange sky which alluded to the impending sunset.
Trixie walked over to the shelf and picked up one of the comic books. Looking at it, one thing immediately caught her eye. "Jim!" she exclaimed. "This comic book was published after you came to live in Sleepyside! Someone has been up here!"
She turned around to see Jim stifling a smile. Trying to figure out what was so funny, she gave him a perplexed look. Then, realizing that he would have known the items did not belong to him, she started to laugh. Pretty soon, Jim was laughing, too. "I do make a mystery out of everything, don't I?" she said, when she had finally calmed down enough.
Jim just smiled, walked over to her and took both of her hands into his own. "Trixie," he began. "I want to thank you for coming with me today. I can't think of anyone who could have been more perfect."
Trixie felt her cheeks getting hot from both the compliment and the way he was looking at her. "Jim, how could I be perfect? All day I have been thinking was how I could never be able to know what it was like to lose someone I loved so much."
He gave her hands a squeeze. "I hope you never have to find out." Giving her a sad smile, he dropped her hands. He continued, "But, you are right. It's impossible to understand what it's like to lose someone you love so much, until it happens to you," He walked over to a window and stared wistfully out at the forest. "Sometimes I'm afraid I won't be able to handle losing someone else."
Trixie looked at him curiously, "Who do you think you are going to lose?"
Jim continued to stare at the trees for a few moments. Finally, he turned to her and said, "Sometimes I'm afraid that I'm going to lose you."
Trixie just stared at him, too taken by surprise to reply.
For a few moments, Jim looked at her, trying to gauge her reaction to his words. Finally, he took a deep breath and continued, "You mean so much to me. Sometimes it scares me that I have such strong feelings for you already. You are the most amazing and beautiful person I have ever known." He paused, gathering the courage to continue. "Trixie, I know I've been hard on you in the past when it comes to your mysteries. I guess I just want you to know why I've lectured you so much. It's just every time I think about how easily I could have lost you over and over again, I go crazy."
Realizing he was waiting for her to respond, Trixie took a deep breath. "After I step back and think about it, you are usually right. But even though I know I am too impulsive, I never want to give up my detective work."
Jim took her hands in his, "I don't want you to give up anything." A silly smile appeared on his face. "The funny thing is although I may get after you for putting yourself in danger, your adventurous spirit is one of the things I love the most about you. Besides, life would be too boring without it," he teased.
With a twinkle in her blue eyes, Trixie countered, "So that's all I am? A source of entertainment?"
"No, you are so much more to me."
The look he gave her made Trixie's breath catch in her throat. She felt a shiver run through her as he slipped his arms around her waist. Then slowly, his head began to descend to hers. As their lips met, Trixie put her arms around his neck. For a few moments, neither one noticed the sounds of the forest or the twinkling stars visible through the skylight. As they pulled apart, Jim brushed back one of her blonde curls which had gone astray. Looking at her with a smile which reached his green eyes, he placed a kiss on her forehead and whispered, "Just about perfect."
The End
For anyone who is interested, there is an epilogue that I debated long and hard about putting in the story. It was the first thing I wrote when I finally decided to put this story running around in my head on paper (or at least on computer). Unfortunately, I don't think it fits with the flow and mood of the rest of the story, so I took it out. BUT, if anyone would like to see it, e-mail me: weigel_a@denison.edu .