Group Writing Project #2
DISCLAIMER: (To the tune of the Oscar Meyer Wiener song) Oh, I wish I was the creator of Trixie. That is what I’d really like to be. ‘Cause if I were the creator of Trixie, Golden Books would never come for me! (That’s right. They aren’t mine. This is just for fun. Don’t sue me.)
NoHumorGirl here is taking another stab at being funny. CHEERS!
Into the Woods
by Jenni
"My watch!" Bobby Belden wailed, tears streaming down his cheeks. "Trixie tooked it into the woods and losted it! I want it back!"
Trixie sighed. "Bobby, I told you I’m sorry. I don’t think we’ll ever find it. But I’ll buy you a new one tomorrow before work."
"No!" Bobby screamed.
Trixie glanced at her water glass, amazed it hadn’t shattered.
"I want MY watch! The one I got for my birthday!"
"Bobby," Trixie replied, trying to remain calm. "It was just a silly Timex. I can get you one just like it."
If possible, Bobby’s angry shriek was louder than the last.
Mrs. Belden turned from the counter and smiled pleasantly. "Well, Trixie, dear. I suppose you’ll just have to skip dinner and go find his watch."
"What? Moms, it could be anywhere!"
"Well, you shouldn’t have taken it to begin with. And now he wants it back."
"I borrowed it, with his permission, so that I would be able to keep track of the time while I was out riding. I didn’t want to be late for dinner."
"If you hadn’t lost your own watch, you wouldn’t have this problem," Brian Belden pointed out reasonably, before turning his attention back to the twenty-seven text books spread out on the kitchen table.
"I want my watch!" Bobby hollered, his face still sweetly angelic.
Why is it when I throw a tantrum I turn all red and ugly? Trixie wondered. It didn’t matter how many times Bobby displayed his violent temper, he was never less than adorable.
"I’ll get you a new one," Trixie offered again.
"NO! You go get MY watch. NOW."
"You’d better get moving, princess," Mr. Belden suggested. "It’s past six o’clock."
"But… but…" Trixie sputtered. "Why can’t he just wait until tomorrow?"
"He wants it now," Mrs. Belden replied patiently.
"So? It’s getting dark out! That watch could have fallen off my arm anywhere in the preserve! I’ll never find it! Besides, it couldn’t hurt him to go one night without it."
Her family stared at her. "Trixie!" her mother admonished. "You know better. We always do whatever Bobby wants and give him anything he asks for. The whole house revolves around him. He is the king after all."
Trixie realized it was no use. If only Crimper’s stayed open late on Sundays! With a weary sigh, she fetched her heavy jacket and hurried to the utility room. Her boots were sitting by the back door, at the end of a neat row of family footgear. She tilted her head and frowned. Her left shoe was as clean as the day she’d bought it, but her right was covered in mud. Now how had THAT happened? Puzzling over the oddity, she grabbed a large black flashlight from a shelf and prepared to leave.
As she stepped out into the cold evening air, Mart called to her to wait.
"Here." He held out a snack bag of Cheez-its. "It occurs to me that you may feel the need for sustenance while you hunt for the elusive time piece."
Trixie gratefully accepted the offering. Grumbling under her breath about spoiled brats, she set off for the closest path into the Wheeler game preserve. Despite the use of her flashlight, she still managed to trip over a sturdy tree branch that lay across the trail. She picked it up and swung it loosely about, reflecting that it would make a fabulous walking stick. She hated walking sticks. Tossing it into the brush, she continued on her way, trying to determine what was the best course of action for this fool’s errand.
"Look out! Make way!"
Startled, Trixie whirled about and watched, wide–eyed as a tall man zipped past her on a unicycle, a deer carcass balanced across his lap. He vanished into the shadows only seconds later, not giving her the chance to ask him why he was wearing only one sock. Shrugging at the bizarre way some people dressed themselves, she resumed her walk.
A thick fog rolled in around her and she sighed. As if darkness alone wasn’t enough to thwart her in her quest. A little further on, she became aware of two female voices. She was unable to spot the talkers through the heavy mist, but she could clearly make out their conversation.
"I know we’re lost!" one woman exclaimed. "I can’t believe we decided to go looking for your sister after dark!"
"Let’s keep trying," the other woman replied. "She has to be around here somewhere. Besides, we can’t be too lost. This place only has so many trails. You know, if you’d just brought along that GPS system your husband bought you…"
"I didn’t think I’d need it! In any case, I have these nifty Velcro straps he put in my bag."
"What are they for?"
There was a pause. "Well," the first woman admitted. "I don’t really know. But look, if you twist them like this, they make a neat spider!""
Trixie shook her head and kept moving. The woods were spooky at night, more so when they were blanketed by a swirling fog. Nervously, she began to sing to herself, choosing a song from her favorite group, Letters to Cleo. She knew the song was a remake, but she wasn’t sure what dinosaur rocker band had performed it first. "I want you to want me...I need you to need me… I’d love you to love me… I’m begging you to beg me…"
Suddenly, Jim popped out in front of her. Trixie jumped back with a gasp.
"I want you, Trixie," he assured her, holding out his hand. Trixie started to reach for him.
Someone else stepped in her path. "But I need you, Trix," Dan told her quietly, his expression earnest.
Before she could stop them, the two boys launched themselves at one another. She watched them rolling around in the dirt, pummeling one another while they argued over which one of them deserved her more.
"She’s mine!" Jim yelled. "Everyone knows it! And six out of seven people agree we should always be together."
"So what?" Dan demanded. "That’s because they’ve been fooled by your occasional nice deed and polite manners! Why they keep looking past the way you constantly doubt her and ridicule her ideas is beyond me!"
Trixie decided she couldn’t take it any more. She rushed away from the brawl and headed down another darkened trail.
Five minutes later she collided with Honey. Both girls laughingly disentangled themselves.
"What are you doing out here this late?" Trixie asked her best friend curiously.
Honey blew out an exasperated breath. "My car broke down just as I was passing Mr. Lytell’s store. So now I’m walking home."
Trixie stared at her. "Why didn’t you just call for help?"
"I tried," Honey replied. "But there’s something really wrong with my cell phone. No matter what number I dial, I always get the same thing. Here, listen…." Honey pulled her phone from her bag and punched in a number. She handed the phone to Trixie, nodding expectantly.
Trixie put the phone to her ear and listened. She could hear the line ringing. There was a click as someone answered. But instead of a "hello," or even a "What do you want?", the only sound Trixie heard was that of heavy, rhythmic breathing.
"Um… is anyone there?" she asked doubtfully.
Honey took the phone from her, clicking it off with a knowing look. "That’s been happening all night," she explained.
"That’s really…weird, Honey."
Honey lifted on shoulder in a graceful shrug. "I have to get going now, Trix. My parents will start wondering."
Trixie watched as Honey scurried away. She stood still for a moment, pondering her options. She was no clearer on a plan and no closer to finding the watch.
She turned on a path that would eventually lead her down to the lake, hoping that perhaps the watch had fallen off when she had rode Lady along the shoreline.
Just as she passed through a crossroads near the very heart of the preserve, she caught sight of Regan ambling along a weedy trail.
"Hi, Trixie!" he called to her. "Look what I’ve got!"
Trixie waited until he reached her side and then she took the box he held out to her.
"Mr. Maypenny just gave it to me. An anthropologist friend of his sent it to him from New Guinea, but he didn’t want it."
Trixie removed the box lid and ruffled through the several layers of red tissue paper inside. Her fingers closed around a small, leathery object. She pulled it out and held it up to get a good look at it.
With a disgusted cry, Trixie dropped the shrunken head back into the box.
"Be careful with that!" Regan ordered, placing his big freckled hands on his hips. "It comes with a curse!"
"What’s that?" Trixie queried warily.
"Supposedly if you hold it up in the light of a full moon, you turn into a giant cat!"
Trixie’s gaze flew upward. Thank goodness tonight was a new moon, she thought.
"I’m going to display it on my mantel," Regan told her, smiling down at his prize. "That should be a real conversation piece!"
Trixie grimaced and left Regan still admiring the gruesome trophy. When she reached the lake, she concentrated on a thorough search of the area. The flash bulb going off in her eyes caught her off guard.
"Well, Ms. Snoop, what great mystery are you working on now?" Paul Trent of the Sleepyside Sun demanded.
Trixie glared at him. "Put that camera away or it’ll be the Mystery of the Missing Reporter," she growled. A glint of silver caught her eye. With a triumphant shout, she pounced upon the watch, half buried in the sand.
Without giving Trent another look, she hurried home. Her family was just getting up from the dining table.
"Here, Bobby," she muttered wearily. "Here’s your lousy watch."
Bobby took it from her, only to throw it right back. "Don’t want it now! I want my story. You read me Peter Rabbit."
"Not tonight, Bobby. I’m too tired."
"Read! Read! Read!" Bobby screamed.
Mrs. Belden smiled serenely. "You go on upstairs, dear. Peter Rabbit is still on Bobby’s nightstand where you left it yesterday."
Groaning audibly, Trixie headed for the stairs. Bobby followed along, shouting orders like a general. Trixie vowed to never borrow anything else from her baby brother ever again.
The End
I kinda feel like I cheated on this one. It’s so bizarre, I didn’t have trouble working everything in. Maybe I’ll try this again and try to be serious about it. But not tonight! I’m WAY too tired. Cheers!