Chapter 15: Anything You Can Do, I Can Do Better

Trixie and Jim galloped at a good pace for a mile or so, then slowed the horses to a walk. As they meandered among the trails of the Wheeler’s game preserve, Trixie explained how she now believed the vandalism had taken place and who was responsible. Jim listened with growing excitement as she talked. "I’ll bet you’re right, Trix," he exclaimed when she paused. "It’s sure worth looking into further."

For the remainder of the ride and as they groomed the horses, Trixie and Jim batted ideas back and forth of what to do next. "It’s still a touchy situation," Jim observed. As they walked out of the stable, he added, "C’mon up to the house. There’s something I’ve been meaning to give you."

"What?" Trixie asked, her curiosity aroused.

Jim shook his head. "You’ve got your secrets, I’ve got mine," he said, so Trixie waited in the living room while he went upstairs. He returned shortly with a big grin on his face and a small package, wrapped in red tissue paper, in his hands. He held it out to Trixie. "It’s a couple of days late, but there didn’t seem to be a good time on Friday."

Trixie was as surprised as she was delighted. She felt her face growing warm as she fumbled the wrapping paper open to find a framed photograph of she and Jim on horseback in the Arizona desert. "Oh, wow! This is beautiful," she said. "I remember that ride so well."

"Yeah, because it’s one of the few you got to go on," Jim teased, grabbing her hand and swinging it.

"Yes, after you and my Simon Legree brother finally laid off on the math homework!" Trixie retorted, but she squeezed his hand and they both laughed recalling Trixie’s math travails.

"We’ve had some great times together," Jim said quietly. "I hope we’re just getting started."

Trixie nodded and was surprised to find it hard to catch her breath. She reached in her pocket and pulled out her gift. "Great minds think alike," she said and handed him the framed picture of Patch.

Jim accepted the photo with a smile. "Hey, thanks, you caught Patch in one of his rare still moments. I’d forgotten we took pictures that day. This must have been taken during that snow last Thanksgiving when you were on the rebound from Ben Riker."

Trixie put her hands on her hips. "I wish I had a snow bank to push you in right now, James Winthrop Frayne!"

Honey walked in then. "Jim, what have you done to be addressed by all three names?" she asked with a smile.

"Ah, if it isn’t my very own full-blooded, adopted sister," Jim put an arm around Trixie, one around Honey and guided them toward the door. "Shall we head out to the clubhouse and along the way I’ll tell you how innocent I am of any wrongdoing."

"I’ll believe that!" Honey said sarcastically, but the relieved smile on her face clearly told how happy she was that Jim and Trixie were on good terms again.

When the three arrived at the clubhouse, they found the Belden brothers waiting for them. "Moms has invited us all for sandwiches and apple pie after the meeting," Brian said as they gathered around the table.

"Di called and said she needs to skip the meeting. She’s doing fine, her ankle hasn’t swelled, but, following the proverbial admonition of better safe than sorry, she thinks it better to stay off it as much as possible," Mart explained. "And, from her description, am I to understand the Crabapple Farm Sure Shot picked up a blunderbuss yesterday? Which left the production in an uproar, not to mention making a hash of the investigation," Mart said, taunting Trixie. "But never fear, little sis, I’ve got my own sleuthing exploits to report on and will happily pull your chestnuts from the fire."

"You’ve been sleuthing?" Trixie asked with a mixture of skepticism and alarm.

"Quoth Frank Butler to Annie Oakley: anything you can do, I can do better!" Mart exclaimed and folded his arms with the smug look.

"We’ll see about that," Trixie replied emphatically. "Because I think I’ve got this mystery figured out. It’s like I told Honey that first day, it all comes down to motive. Cui bono? Who benefits? It was easy to see that Alison and, indirectly her mother, benefited from her getting the part in the play. But what I couldn’t understand was and what I forgot about was: who had a motive and means for leaving Mrs. Travers’ scissors out in full view on Mrs. Catania’s desk? The answer is, of course –

"Alison!" Honey interrupted with a gasp.

"Exactly," Trixie continued. "Honey and Jim have been right all along. Alison doesn’t care one way or the other about the part, but she wants her mother’s malicious mischief stopped. At the same time, she can't bring herself to betray her mother."

"And it’s been tearing her apart," Jim said.

Trixie nodded and continued. "What I think happened is this: Mrs. Travers came to the school that morning and saw Di’s picture on the front of the Campus Clarion. She’d already tried various things to discourage Di, but the front page picture of Di’s success really set her off. She had a fit, crumpled the newspaper, which we saw on the worktable in the prop room, and then tore up the costumes. Alison either couldn’t stop her or didn’t know how. Del saw Mrs. Travers pick up a bundle of newspapers on her way out of the school, probably to destroy them or to keep as few people as possible from seeing them. Alison stayed behind in the prop room, upset and not knowing what to do. Then, she heard Del unlocking the prop room for Tony and Jeff. She hid in Mrs. Catania’s office until they left. But she wanted someone to know about and stop her mother. So, she got her mother’s scissors -- she had access to her mother’s sewing kit or perhaps, in her rage, Mrs. Travers left them – and she put the scissors and cloth right on Mrs. Catania’s desk, trying to draw attention to her mother. The only problem was, in some ways it was so obvious it could also be explained away. And nobody could believe that Mrs. Travers would tear up the costumes she’d just finished."

"So you postulate that this is basically the case of the Texas Cheerleader’s Mom, but transplanted to Sleepyside," Mart said thoughtfully.

"This is wonderful," Honey exclaimed. "I’d always thought that if she was guilty it was her mother egging her on. But, to know that she’s not guilty at all – or not much – that makes me feel so much better."

Brian scratched his jaw thoughtfully and said, "Your theory does seem to fit the facts of the costume damage. But, what about the other incidents – like the person who attacked you and the staircase collapsing yesterday?"

"I don’t know of any way to prove who attacked me or who loosened the staircase," Trixie admitted. "If Alison ‘fesses up it will point very directly toward Mrs. Catania having damaged Di’s costumes."

"And that’s a big ‘if,’" Jim pointed out. "Plus, there’s this problem: what becomes of Alison if she testifies against her mother?"

Honey looked as if she’d been slapped. "I hadn’t even thought about that," she said, worriedly. "Will her mother go to jail? Will she become a ward of the state?"

"I don’t know," Jim said. "But we’ve got to give some thought to this before we do something that essentially makes Alison homeless."

"Given that and her filial loyalty, do you think it’s likely she’ll rat out her Mom?" Mart asked.

"There will be a lot of pressure on her once Del tells what he knows on Monday," Trixie said. "Del’s testimony really narrows down the time frame of when the damage could have been done. Mrs. Travers may try to say they are lying and turn it into a they-said, she-said, but since Del has definitely been cleared of damaging the staircase, Mrs. Travers is not going to be as believable. I think when it starts closing in like that, Alison will at least not lie when people ask her questions. She almost said something to me at the rehearsal yesterday."

"If only you could go to the powers that be with some kind of evidence," Mart said slyly. "That would be ever so helpful, wouldn’t it?"

"We have Del’s testimony, but all right, Mart, out with it," Trixie commanded. "You’ve been lying in wait this entire meeting. What have you got up your sleeve?"

"Well, recall that Alison and her mother moved to Sleepyside recently. I wondered if, mayhap, similar distressing occurrences might have occurred in the town where they previously resided. So I queried Jim the other day about their previous residence and then, yesterday, while you were trading accusations with Mrs. Travers, I whiled away the day in the Sleepyside Public Library. And, I found an item which, if not proof positive, nevertheless has strong evidentiary value," with a flourish, Mart produced a Xerox copy of a short newspaper item from the Riverton Journal, newspaper of Riverton, Pennsylvania. He laid it in the center of the table and the Bob-Whites leaned over for a better view.

"School Investigates Mysterious Accidents," Jim read aloud with growing excitement. "’Administration officials of Riverton High School yesterday confirmed that they are investigating a rash of petty thefts and property damage on the set of the school’s musical, My Fair Lady.’"

"The story is from last autumn," Honey pointed to the date.

"Yes, indeed," Mart said. "And, I would think even Mr. Reed would have to look twice at this coincidence," he leaned over to Trixie. "You can thank me later," he said.

Trixie let out a low whistle and jabbed at his arm. "I’ll thank you now! This is something concrete they can follow up on – and they’ll have to."

"As I say, ‘anything you can do I can better, I can do anything better than you," Mart broke into song and pulled one of Trixie’s curls.

"No, you can’t!" Trixie sang back with a chuckle and grabbed the newspaper article and cuffed at his head with it.

"Yes, I can, yes I can!" Mart retorted, grabbing the paper from her hands.

"Okay, children, settle down," Brian said with a grin. "There’s still a problem here. Namely, how do we help Alison avoid getting blamed herself? Or blamed along with her mother? Since you know Alison, Trixie’s theory makes sense. But none of the evidence points exclusively to Mrs. Travers. After all, Alison must have guilty knowledge and she has been somewhat complicit."

"My esteemed elder sibling has raised a highly percipient point," Mart said, making a steeple with his hands. "And with our vice-principal’s Clouseau-like investigatory skills, we have to consider the likelihood of him making such a blunder. Yet, while Clouseau somehow manages to blunder into the truth, Mr. Reed doesn’t seem blessed with that quality of happy accidents."

The other four Bob-Whites just stared at Mart for a moment. Finally, Jim said, "Right, so we need someone to set him straight. I nominate Trixie."

"Mr. Reed thinks I’m the guilty one or just out for the glory – he’ll never listen to me," Trixie objected.

"Nevertheless, you need to bring forward what you’ve noticed," Jim said. "If you think Mr. Reed won’t listen, then why not go to Mrs. Catania who certainly has some influence on the investigation. You’ve got another avenue for them to pursue in this article, which adds to your credibility. But you’ve got to help them connect the dots so that they realize it’s Mrs. Travers alone, not a mother-daughter team."

"I suppose I can go to Mrs. Catania with Del," Trixie mused.

"If Del tells what he knows on Monday and the school starts to investigate what happened at Riverton, then the dominoes are going to fall pretty fast," Brian pointed out. "We need to think hard about finding some way to shield Alison or encourage her to come forward."

"She needs someone she can trust so that she feels it’s safe to talk," Jim said.

"There’s someone she trusts," Trixie said. "Del told me he came upon her once in Mrs. Catania’s office crying and talking to someone on the telephone. Honey, do you remember that time that Mrs. Travers told us that Alison’s aunt gave her those fancy scissors because she knows she likes pretty things? This is just a guess, but what if this aunt is close to Alison and her mother, maybe that’s who Alison was talking to?"

"That could be," Jim confirmed. "She has mentioned an aunt, a Mrs. Shorey, that she seems to like. It’s kind of a shot in the dark, but if we can get a relative involved perhaps she can influence Mrs. Travers to get some help and even give Alison a home to go to," Jim said.

After a little more discussion, the group decided that, since time was short and things were likely to start happening on Monday, they should attempt to contact Mrs. Shorey immediately. They adjourned the meeting and trooped up to the Manor House library.

"I suggest that this situation calls for Honey’s diplomatic skills," Mart said when they entered the quiet, wood-paneled room. "We are calling up a complete stranger and asking her if her sister is a lunatic or a criminal."

The group agreed that Honey was the obvious choice, so she took the seat at the desk. While the Bob-Whites gathered chairs around the desk, Honey called information and got a phone number for a Mrs. Shorey in Riverton. She took a deep breath and began dialing. The Bob-Whites leaned forward, hanging on every word of the one-sided conversation.

Honey introduced herself as a schoolmate of Alison’s, who had gotten to know both Alison and her mother while working on the musical. "We are working so hard on this production. Alison is working as hard as anyone. She is so musical. Has she mentioned it to you?" Honey paused. "Yes, it is a big undertaking. I’m very sorry to intrude out of the blue, but I’ve become aware of some things that I think someone close to Alison should know about," she paused a moment. "There have been some incidents backstage. Some vandalism and mischief. I am very concerned that Alison is going to be hurt by what’s going on. No, Alison didn’t ask me to call. Has she mentioned this to you?"

Apparently in response to the person on the line, Honey then repeated her name, her parents name, phone number, and how she knew Alison and Mrs. Travers. Then she briefly described the destruction of Di’s costumes and how Mrs. Travers’ scissors had been left at the scene.

"My impression is that Alison is very upset by what is going on and does not know what to do," Honey continued. "I’m especially concerned because the vice-principal is looking into things and there seems to be some possibility that Alison might be caught up in an unpleasant situation not of her making. I just wanted someone close to Alison to be aware of the situation, in case there might be something you might know or something you feel you could do or say." Honey listened for another minute or so, saying, "Yes," occasionally. Then she read the Sleepyside High phone number into the receiver, thanked Mrs. Shorey for her time, and rang off.

She looked up at the group. "She sounded very sad, but not surprised. She didn’t tell me anything specific, but she said something like, ‘oh, no, not again,’ -- as if things like this happened at Riverton. She also said she would call the school tomorrow and talk to Mrs. Catania."

"She didn’t attempt to deny her sister’s involvement, did she?" Jim asked.

Honey shook her head. "I feel so badly for Alison. We’ve really set something in motion."

"Not us, Alison’s mother," Jim said. "I think we’ve done the right thing. Don’t forget. Di could have been badly hurt on that staircase. This is a very unhappy situation, but ultimately, getting it out in the open should help Alison."

The group sat silently. Trixie was reassured that Jim seemed so certain they were taking the right course.

"I always forget how lucky I am with my great parents and great home," Brian broke the silence.

"Yeah, and there’s apple pie waiting at home, but amazingly, I’ve lost my appetite," Mart said.

"Well, let’s walk down the hill, it’ll come back to you. It never stays lost for long," Brian slapped his younger brother on the back.  The BWG’s set out for Crabapple Farm, and sure enough, by the time they arrived, Mart was up to a couple of sandwiches and pie à la mode.

Chapter 16: Trixie Get Your Gun!

The next day, Trixie and Del met on their lunch hour and went to see Mrs. Catania. On the way, Trixie told Del about what the BWG’s had learned over the weekend and the phone call she believed Alison’s aunt was going to make. She also showed him the newspaper article Mart had found. Del was very relieved to know that it was not going to be just his word against Mrs. Travers. He was even more pleased to know that Alison was probably not actively involved.

Mrs. Catania’s was just putting down the receiver when they arrived at her office door. The expression on her face was very grave. She nodded for Trixie and Del to come in. Haltingly, Del told Mrs. Catania that he, Tony, and Jeff had indeed seen the damaged costumes that morning.

"We should all go and speak with Mr. Reed," Mrs. Catania sighed heavily. "I’ve just been speaking to Alison’s aunt and what she told me agrees with what you’re telling me. I’ll ask you not to talk about this with anyone but Nancy, but, apparently, this is not the first high school production they have been associated with that had this kind of trouble."

Trixie nodded and silently handed Mrs. Catania the copy of the Riverton Journal article. Mrs. Catania read quickly, her eyebrows rising.

"Mrs. Catania, there is one thing about who’s doing the vandalism," Trixie said and proceeded to give her reasoning about the likelihood that Alison was at most a passive participant who was even trying to alert others to her mother’s actions.

Mrs. Catania seemed to turn over the arguments in her mind. "That makes sense, Trixie. We’ll bring this up to Mr. Reed. Okay, let’s go," she said.

Trixie and Del followed the Drama Coach to the vice-principal’s office. Trixie stayed silent for most of the meeting, deciding it was best to let the evidence from Del and Mrs. Catania speak for her. At first Mr. Reed seemed skeptical, but as Del and Mrs. Catania talked and showed him the newspaper article, he slowly seemed to come around.

"I still find it hard to believe that one of our parents would be so – so deranged – that she would do this kind of damage," he said. "What could be so important about a high school musical?"

Mrs. Catania shrugged. "There was a cheerleader’s mother in Texas who tried to have her daughter’s rival murdered," she said. "Some parents live vicariously through their children’s achievements."

"Mrs. Travers believes there are going to be Broadway scouts at opening night," Trixie spoke for the first time. "She believes it’s a shot at real glory for those in the lead parts."

Mrs. Catania snorted. "Well, that’s all in her head. I’ve got a couple of friends I’ve worked with who are coming – but they aren’t active anymore in professional theater. I kept trying to tell that to Mrs. Travers, but she hears what she wants to hear. Mr. Reed, this information may not be enough for a court of law, but I believe it’s reason enough to close rehearsals to Mrs. Travers," she continued. "The costumes are almost finished, so we can get along without her. Someone does need to question her more closely and, I’m afraid, someone should question Alison, difficult as that may be. My guess is Alison is almost as much a victim as anyone, but we must find out what she knows."

Mr. Reed agreed and then asked Del and Trixie to leave while he and Mrs. Catania conferred further.

"Not so much as a congratulations or a thank-you," Trixie groused to Di and Honey later as they stopped by their lockers prior to the afternoon rehearsal. She and Honey had brought Di up to date on the Bob-Whites meeting and now Trixie described the meeting with Mr. Reed.

"And after you’ve worked so hard and gotten hit on the head, and –" Honey stopped mid-sentence.

Alison Travers had rounded the corner and was approaching her locker. She paused a step when she saw the three, but then tightened her grip on her books and walked straight up to Di. Trixie held her breath, but Di smiled.

"How is your ankle, Diana?" Alison asked. "I hope it’s better."

"Fit as a fiddle," Di said easily. "Thanks for asking."

Alison nodded uneasily to Trixie and Honey and then looked down. "I hope they can put a stop to this soon." She walked over to her locker.

Trixie, Di and Honey exchanged glances. Then Di spoke up. "Say, Alison, I’ve been meaning to talk with you. Robert and I have had a few thoughts about the choreography on our Anything You Can Do, I Can Do Better duet. I want to make sure you’re aware of the changes. Why don’t you walk with us and we can talk about it before rehearsal starts?"

Di and Alison started down the hall and Honey and Trixie fell in quietly behind. Alison seemed grateful for Di’s interest. A shy smile played at the corners of her mouth. But as the girls approached the prop room door, they saw that Mrs. Catania, Mrs. Travers, and Mr. Reed were all standing out in the hall. None of them looked happy. Mrs. Travers’ face was a deep red and she was shaking her finger at Mr. Reed and Mrs. Catania.

"Oh, no," Alison said quietly. She took a deep breath and then set off at a near run down the hall. Trixie, Di, and Honey followed as quickly as they could.

Mrs. Travers was nearly shouting. "I can't believe you would make these ridiculous accusations after all I’ve done for this production. This is slander! You’ll hear from my attorney! Come on, Alison, we’re through here," she grabbed her daughter’s arm and stormed out the side entrance. Alison balked momentarily, then ducked her head and followed her mother wordlessly.

Mr. Reed started to follow the two, then stopped and shook his head. "I guess that behavior speaks for itself," he said.

Mrs. Catania nodded. She turned around and saw that a group had begun to gather outside the prop room. "Okay, let’s get set up for rehearsal," she said in her usual no-nonsense manner. She unlocked the prop room door and stood aside for the students to enter.

"I wish we could run after her," Di whispered to Honey and Trixie.

"I do too, but that would only make it worse," Honey said. "At least, I do believe her aunt will do everything she can to help Alison."

Trixie turned then and went over to Mrs. Catania’s office. The drama coach was quickly gathering materials for rehearsal. She looked up impatiently, and then smiled when she saw Trixie. "Well, young lady, you seem to have hit the mark."

"Mrs. Catania, I wanted to apologize for my outburst in rehearsal on Saturday. I know it added to the uproar," Trixie said. "It’s just that I was pretty sure that the investigation wasn’t headed the right direction and I was afraid someone could really get hurt."

Mrs. Catania nodded calmly. "There’s no need to apologize, Trixie. To paraphrase Loretta Lynn, I was outspoken when outspoken wasn’t cool. Some people do only what’s expected or what others do. You’re a difference maker. And, I think you’ve made a difference in this production. I believe we are in your debt because you’ve taken the initiative to find out what’s going on. At least now we can get back to some serious rehearsing," she said with gusto.

"Did anyone ask Mrs. Travers for her keys to the theater?" Trixie asked.

"I don’t know. I only came in at the end of the conversation. But I don’t think she’s going to be back," Mrs. Catania picked up her script and went into the prop room. "C’mon, everybody, we’ve got a job to do," she said briskly and began herding the cast and crew into the theater.

It took a few minutes to get the cast and crew focused. Trixie avoided saying much, but word of Mrs. Travers angry conversation with Mr. Reed had spread like wildfire. However, Mrs. Catania kept insisting and scolding and Di and the other lead actors led the way by concentrating on their performances. Slowly the rest of the production members settled down to rehearse.

They reached the show’s finale, a recap of the song, There’s No Business Like Show Business. The entire cast was on stage singing at the top of their lungs. Trixie was watching and waiting for the cue when she and Ryan would lower the final curtain. As the chorus neared its end, Ryan, Del, and three other crewmembers suddenly appeared at her side.

"What are you doing here?" she asked.

"We got a note saying Nancy wanted us here," they replied, heading over to where Nancy, absorbed in her prompt book, was counting out the measures.

Later Trixie could recall the next few moments only as a blur. She looked across the stage to the opposite wings. There were no crew there, but Trixie thought she caught a glimpse of Mrs. Travers hiding in the side curtains. She grabbed Del’s arm and pointed and he started back around to the opposite wings at a dead run. Now Trixie could see that Mrs. Travers seemed to be hacking at the curtain cord with something. Trixie tapped Nancy’s shoulder and yelled "heads up," but couldn’t make herself heard to the cast as they belted out, "Let’s go on with the show." The gleam of the silver pistols on the prop table caught Trixie’s eye. Quickly she grabbed one and fired it straight up into the air several times: Blam! Blam! Blam! Blam! Blam!

"Heads up!" she hollered, pointing overhead, when the startled cast stopped mid-chorus. At that instant, the curtain came loose and started to fall. Di and Robert leaped back and a second later the curtain hit the stage with a heavy thunk. The cast stood in stunned silence and then turned as one when screams rose from the wings.

"Let me go! Let me go!" It was Mrs. Travers, nearly hysterical. Del, followed closely by the two security guards had grabbed her. She began to sob, sank to her knees, and rocked back and forth.

As the cast murmured and watched in confusion, Mrs. Catania hurried to the stage.

"Nancy, call the police," she called.

The security guards got Mrs. Travers quieted somewhat and Mrs. Catania half-persuaded, half-ordered her into the prop room. The cast and crew milled around, no one quite able to believe what had just happened.

Mrs. Catania returned to the stage, called the group to order and began to explain. She spoke generally, since nothing was proved yet. She simply said that it appeared that Mrs. Travers was under stress, would not be returning to the set, and the entire thing was now a police matter.

"I know this has been upsetting for us, but I really do believe that this is the last we’ll see of this kind of trouble. We are confident we have the culprit. One of our new crewmembers, Miss Trixie Belden, has been a real detective and has helped us uncover some important information and get this straightened out." Under the circumstances, Mrs. Catania canceled the rest of the rehearsal and reminded everyone to be on time the next day.

Di came over to Trixie and gave her a big hug. "They don’t call you the Schoolgirl Shamus for nothing," she said exultantly. The two girls held onto each other, partly laughing, partly crying. At that, other cast and crew came up to express their relief that Di was okay and echo her gratitude to Trixie. Soon, it turned into a group hug.

"Wow, Trixie, you’re a real life Sure Shot!" Del said admiringly.

 

Chapter 17: SRO

"’Vice-principal Albert Reed, told this reporter that his investigation had been thorough, that the school had provided for student security, and that he had been questioning Mrs. Travers closely,’" Mart Belden was reading aloud from the next morning’s edition of the Sleepyside Sun, which had made the backstage vandalism front page news. He thumped the page with his fingers and turned to Brian who was finishing his cereal. "Yeah, right, they questioned her after Trixie told them to and not before more property damage was done and more people were endangered," he said with a harrumph.

"Mart, do my ears deceive me or are you actually giving your younger sister credit for saving the day?" Mr. Belden asked, taking a sip of his morning coffee.

"Don’t worry, Dad, it won’t last long," Trixie said. She’d told her parents the entire story when she’d come home from rehearsal the night before. This time, she included her own brushes with danger. Her parents were proud and not a little concerned about her safety. They were also angry Mr. Reed had considered her a suspect, however briefly. Mr. Belden threatened to complain, but Mrs. Belden persuaded him that Mr. Reed probably didn't need to talk to any more irate parents just at the moment.

"That poor Alison," Mrs. Belden said now, as she carried dishes to the sink. "Imagine having to turn in your own mother."

"Yes, I remember how bad I felt when I had to rat out Moms," Mart said to Trixie, Brian, and Mr. Belden with a broad wink. "I knew it had all gone wrong somehow when I found that black jacket hidden away in the hall closet," he continued mournfully. "Nightmarish. But I never dreamed she had become a modern day Ma Barker, hanging out at roadside taverns, stealing hubcaps from Lytell. I can still see the headlines: Moms Belden: the Blonde Booster."

Mrs. Belden laughed at Mart’s absurd fantasy. She put her hands firmly on his shoulders and gave a shake. "Go. To. School."

The three Beldens gathered their books and started toward the door.

"Have a nice day at school, kids," Mr. Belden said. "And, Trixie, if any highway robbers or hijackers stop the school bus today, at least let the police help you solve it – it makes them feel useful."

Trixie smiled as she and her brothers ran to the bus stop. The next week flew by. Because of the canceled and interrupted rehearsals, Mrs. Catania scheduled an extra rehearsal and ran some rehearsals longer. Cast and crew, however, were so relieved to know the trouble was behind them that everyone threw themselves into their jobs and the production came together solidly. For Trixie, the week was a flurry of extra rehearsals, chores, and schoolwork. She had to find time to get her history book report completed, among other assignments that she’d put off.

Alison did not return to school. The students learned that the county had sent her to a foster home for a few days and a tutor from the school district was working with her temporarily. To avoid scandal and a lengthy trial, the school district had tentatively agreed not to press charges if Mrs. Travers would agree to seek treatment and never return to the premises.

When Opening Day arrived Trixie was sitting in Algebra when she was called to the vice-principal’s office. "Oh, brother, now what?" she thought, wondering if she was in some kind of trouble after all. But when she entered the reception area of the vice-principal’s office she was surprised to see Honey, Di, and Jim talking with Alison and a tall woman with graying dark brown hair.

She walked over to the group and Alison turned to her. "Trixie, I wanted to say good-by to you and to thank-you. My mother is going to be in an institution for a while," Alison turned bright red, but went on. "I’m going to stay with my Aunt Rosalie," Alison gestured to the lady standing beside her and introduced Trixie to her aunt. "I just wanted to say thank-you in person because I didn’t have a chance before. I don’t know what would have happened if you hadn’t pointed the investigation towards my mother."

"I’m just sorry I was so clumsy and embarrassed you," Trixie mumbled.

"I don’t blame you. I’m just glad my Mom was stopped before she did real damage," Alison’s lower lip trembled and Trixie felt her own eyes filling.

"We’re just here to collect Alison’s school records," Mrs. Shorey said. "I’ve got temporary custody of Alison and she’ll stay with us until she graduates from high school. My youngest daughter is 15 and she and Alison are almost like sisters – except they get along!" she explained and the group chuckled. "We want to thank-you and your friends for taking an interest in Alison. You made a very difficult situation easier for her to get through."

"I hope so," Trixie said.

"I just wish we could have done more," Honey gave Alison a quick hug.

"I hope you have a great time back in Pennsylvania," Jim added.

Trixie, Honey, Jim, and Di watched quietly as Alison and her aunt headed for the last time into the Sleepyside High Main Hallway.

"I’m really sorry for her and I’m really glad for her at the same time," Di said. "Know what I mean?"

The other three nodded. "It’s for the best," Honey said.

The four then started down the hall to return to class.

"Tonight’s the night and I’ve had goose bumps all day," Trixie said. "How do you feel?" she asked Di.

"I’m really scared and I can’t wait – know what I mean?" Di laughed.

"I’m totally in the ‘can’t wait’ category – but I guess I’ll have to and in Algebra, more’s the pity," Trixie said in mock self-pity and ducked back into her classroom.

There seemed to be electricity in the air when Trixie and Honey finally arrived at the theater that evening for the performance. The cast and crew knew they had overcome big obstacles to get their show mounted and they were "up" for the performance. Trixie worked first with Del and Nancy and the rest of the crew to get the scenery and props for the opening scene in place.

Then she had time to go to the downstairs dressing room where Honey and another crewmember were styling hair and applying the cast’s make-up. Di sat in front of one of the big, oval mirrors studying her pigtails. Robert Wells sat in the chair next to her and, after Honey had completed powdering him, put on his cowboy hat at a rakish angle.

"Thank-you, ma’am," he said with a grin as he whirled around in his chair.

"He’s almost as handsome as Brian," Trixie whispered to Honey when she moved over to Di’s chair.

"Not even close," Honey sniffed.

Trixie blinked in surprise as Honey grinned mischievously.

As he got up to leave, Robert leaned over to Di and squeezed her arm. "You break a leg now, ya hear?"

"You, too. Break a leg," Di said with a smile.

"Break a leg?" Trixie asked curiously.

"Break a leg is what theater people say instead of ‘good luck,’" Di explained. "It’s another theater superstition – it’s bad luck to say good luck and good luck to say, ‘break a leg.’

The cast went upstairs and began to take their places on stage and in the wings. The crew took their spots, also and began to watch the clock with growing excitement. Trixie and Ryan took turns peeking through the curtains, watching the seats fill up. About 15 minutes before the curtain was to go up Mrs. Catania came bustling backstage for a last minute pep talk.

"Okay, we’ve got an SRO crowd – Standing Room Only. You’ve all worked hard and as I’ve said all along, this is going to be a great show. Go out and show ‘em what you’ve got! And, break a leg!"

Just before showtime Nancy called the cue to flicker the houselights to warn the audience to take their seats. A few minutes later she began the backstage cues for the cast and crew. "Ladies and gentleman, this is your Act One, Scene One beginners call. Act One, Scene One, beginners please. Technical and stage staff stand by please. Thank-you," she said into her headset microphone. A few moments later she continued. "Standby for houselights out cue, standby for orchestra overture cue." Then, finally: "Cue Houselights down, go! Cue Orchestra overture, go!" The taped sounds of an orchestra playing the overture to Annie Get Your Gun filled the hall.

"Standby for curtain raising cue. Standby for floodlights center stage cue." Trixie stood at the ready at the curtain. On the opposite side of the stage she saw Ryan grinning at her and giving a ‘thumbs up.’

"Cue curtain raise, go! Cue floodlights center stage, go!" Trixie and Ryan methodically raised the curtain and the floodlights shone on the train bringing Buffalo Bill’s Wild West show to town. The chorus walked on stage, launched into There’s No Business Like Show Business and the show was underway.

The hard work of the last few weeks paid off handsomely. The cast threw themselves into their roles and the production was nearly seamless. When the final curtain fell, the audience rose as one for a standing ovation. The cast took their bows: first the chorus, then supporting players, and finally the two leads, Robert and Diana. After taking a bow, Robert approached the right wings and Nancy stepped forward with a dozen, long-stemmed red roses. Robert presented the roses to Diana and took a step back. The spotlight shown on Diana alone and the hall rang with cries of "Bravo!" Diana smiled and bowed repeatedly.

Afterwards, the Lynches hosted a party for the cast, crew, their parents, and, of course, all of the Bob-Whites. Del had taped the show’s musical numbers and the tape played in the background on the Lynches’ state-of-the-art sound system as guests mingled and helped themselves to the lavish buffet. The cast and crew relaxed by recounting all of the missed cues in rehearsal and the close calls in the first performance.

"You must be worn out from working so hard to get the cast and crew in shape!" Mrs. Lynch exclaimed to Mrs. Catania.

"Worn out, but happy," Mrs. Catania replied, helping herself to some stuffed mushrooms. "They say the two happiest days in a theater person’s life are the day a show starts and the day the darn thing closes! So, I’m only three performances away from another one of the happiest days of my life."

"Here, Here!" Del cried, and the party-goers lifted their punch glasses in toast.

Trixie and Di joined the other Bob-Whites who were clustered near the punch bowl. Mart was holding forth to Nancy Norland on the finer points of the investigation. She listened in amusement and occasionally glanced at Trixie and Di with a look that said, ‘I’m taking this all with a grain of salt.’

"So I took it upon myself to fill in the lacunae of Trixie’s investigation," Mart was saying. "I availed myself of the periodical resources of our local library and was able to unearth a datum that could link geographically disparate occurrences, suggesting that we were dealing with a serial vandal."

Trixie and Di rolled their eyes and groaned. Trixie began to talk loudly. "So, Di, how did you like the effect of the black scrim with no follow spots, just the run lights?"

"It was really effective, Trixie, especially the way the douser worked so quickly on the spotlights. I mean, it’s very dramatic to turn off that much candlepower so quickly, isn’t it, Mart?"

Mart looked confused. "Um, what?"

"Of course," Di continued. "We’re an old-fashioned hemp house and that means some work getting the traveler curtains to the trim on cue."

"Yes, but Del always had his trusty persuader ready to go to work on any frammus that wasn’t cooperating," Trixie said.

"Well, and thank goodness there was gaffa tape on the floor to guide me between the sandwich battens, you know what I mean?" Di nudged Mart in the ribs.

"Huh?" Mart frowned.

"I mean," she continued. "What with all those trucks and collapsible rostra, in the dark you might not know if you’re upstage or down, don’t you agree?"

"What are you talking about?" Mart asked in bewilderment.

His fellow BWG’s burst into cheers and applause. "At last, someone has stumped my loquacious little brother," said Brian.

"Someone give that boy a dictionary," Honey chimed in.

"Okay, you’ve got me," Mart took the ribbing good-naturedly.

Over the sound system came the strains of Annie Oakley’s romantic duet with Frank Butler. "Come on," Di said to Mart. "If you’ll be my partner for this dance, I’ll explain the difficult words to you," she promised with an evil grin. Mart laughed and followed her willingly out onto the floor.

"Trixie, I think they’re playing our song," Jim said with a grin, grabbing her hand. Happily, Trixie followed him out on the floor. As Di’s voice came out over the speakers, they began a slow waltz:

They say that falling in love is wonderful,
It’s wonderful, so they say.
And with the moon up above,
It’s wonderful, it’s wonderful,
So they tell me.

You leave your house one morning
And suddenly, without any warning.
You’re stopping people, shouting that love is grand,
And, to hold a man in your arms, is wonderful, wonderful.
In every way, so they say.

The End