Group Writing Project #5
Disclaimer: These characters belong to Golden Press. This story is not for profit. The quote is taken from The Mystery of the Ghostly Galleon by Kathryn Kenny.
Acknowledgments: I had this idea in mind a while ago, but finals got in the way. Then a post by Jenni on the Message Board reminded me of it, so gracias, Jenni, and a big muchas gracias and Feliz Navidad, Prospero Aņo, andFelices Fiestas to all of you!!
Not the Only One
By Laurie
"Ouch!! Stupid ribbon!! Why won’t this ever work right?"
Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the Farm, a shamus was shouting loud cries of alarm. The noises coming from Trixie’s room were hardly traditional Christmas cheer. As had become her personal holiday tradition, she had finished her Christmas shopping only a few hours before. Uncooperative Christmas wrapping paper and ribbon only added to the frustration she felt from fighting her way through crowds of desperate shoppers.
"One more try."
Trixie carefully wound the end of the (by now mangled) bright red ribbon around a pencil, and took a deep breath before pulling it tight. When Honey had showed her this trick, the ribbon fell in beautiful curlicues on the top of the package. When Trixie pulled the pencil away, the ribbon looked as if an elephant had done the Bunny Hop on it.
Trixie stared at the tattered ribbon for a few moments, silently counting to ten. Nope, that doesn’t make me feel better. She reached for her scissors, carefully cut the ribbon off the package, and then very delicately cut it into a thousand tiny pieces.
"There. Now I feel better." She reached for the package of pre-fabricated bows behind her on the bed, tore off the sticker and slapped it on the package. "All done."
Only one more gift to wrap, that copy of Chicken Soup for the Spoiled Brat’s soul for Bobby, and then she could get some well-deserved rest. After several minutes work with paper, tape, and bows, the final gift was wrapped. Trixie sighed in relief. Then she glanced around her. Her room was awash with tiny strips of Christmas wrap, torn-off price stickers, and ribbon confetti. She was tempted just to leave everything where it was and keep her bedroom door shut tomorrow, but then she remembered Aunt Alicia’s uncanny internal radar for clutter. Picturing Alicia’s face as she lectured her on the tidiness expected of "young ladies," Trixie grabbed her wastebasket and started shoveling.
Ten minutes later the room looked clean, or at least as clean as it ever did. Trixie spied a renegade ribbon hanging from her bookcase and went over to retrieve it. Once there, she ran a loving hand over the books that occupied the shelf of honor: her complete set of Lucy Radcliffe novels. She reached for one at random, and began to read, even though she practically had it memorized by now:
Mission in Munich
Chapter OneI was in danger. I knew it as soon as I moved to the
head of the stairs. I should have sensed it sooner.
After all, I had just found my partner bound and gagged
in the musty linen closet on the second floor. Now he was
powerless, and it was up to me to save them both.
After reading for what seemed to her to be only a few minutes, Trixie was surprised to hear the Beldens’ old grandfather clock chime twelve times. Midnight? It can’t be midnight yet? I’ve only been reading for…two hours???
Trixie sighed, and replaced the book carefully on the shelf. She had always loved these books, and after the initial shock, meeting the author had been one of the biggest thrills of her life. Unfortunately, the series was now out of print. Mr. Appleton had told her that the publishing company felt that a 18-year-old female spy just wasn’t realistic enough for the modern, sophisticated reading audience. Now, the only mysteries their heroines solved were which lipstick shade went best with a tangerine sundress, and how to make the dreamy football captain fall madly in love with them.
"Yuck. If that’s "modern," I’ll take old-fashioned any day. If only someone somewhere would …Naah. I’m probably the only one who still remembers Lucy."
Trixie grinned a little sheepishly to herself. She was probably the only one in the entire world who spent hours imagining new adventures for Lucy. The only person who would ever plot out Lucy’s life from the point the books ended. Thank goodness Mart never found out about that. I can just imagine what he’d say then. Shuddering, she turned back to the bookcase and ran her finger along the line of books.
"A new Lucy book. That’s what I’d like for Christmas."
Gathering up her gifts, she left her room and tiptoed down the stairs to the Christmas tree. Laying the gifts around the tree, she spotted a few that had her name on the tag, and spent a few minutes happily shaking them and speculating on their contents. Absorbed in her task, she didn’t move until the clock chiming one startled her out of her musing.
"One o’clock already? I’m too excited to sleep." And too impatient, she admitted to herself. What could she do to quietly pass the time until her family woke up?
Looking around the room, she spotted the Belden family computer, a fairly recent purchase. Mart and Brian were the family members who most frequently used it. Mart had monopolized it from the start, claiming it was his right due to the fact he had the most experience from his computer class(1). In the few moments a day Mart wasn’t sitting at the keyboard, Brian used it to research medical issues and check out various colleges. Trixie had been interested in the computer, but lack of time (school, her part-tie job with Molinson, and Belden-Wheeler’s latest case) and a reluctance to admit her technological ignorance to Mart had prevented her from exploring Crabapple Farm’s latest acquisition. What better time than now?
Slipping into the chair, she noticed the computer was still on, and connected to the Internet. Our frugal ancestors would be shocked at this waste of electricity—not that all of them would know what electricity was, Trixie thought to herself. Mart had been working on it (very secretively) all day. Curious, Trixie checked his bookmark file.
"The ‘Cosmo McNaught Homepage?’ Oh, I’m going to get him with this one!"
She checked out the links. One of them led to a fanfic site which contained many stories signed by "R.O.G.U.E" Suspicion began to grow in Trixie’s mind as she clicked on the link to one of R.O.G.U.E.’s story and began scanning it. The story, full of polysyllabic words and esoteric facts, confirmed her hypothesis: Mart Belden was R.O.G.U.E.!!(2)
Trixie chuckled to herself. She was plotting how best to use this knowledge when she noticed a link at the bottom of the main page.
"Like Cosmo McNaught? Want to read other books by the same author? Check out my "Lucy Radcliffe Homepage here."
For a moment Trixie couldn’t breathe. It couldn’t be. She had to be the only one who felt that way about the Lucy books. She clicked on the link. Lucy’s smiling face appeared in front of her, dark red hair, wide green eyes and all. Trixie scrolled down the page, hardly believing her eyes: trivia pages, a nit-pick page, a Message Board, and…
"New Lucy stories!!!" Fortunately, Trixie’s shout coincided with the clock chiming two, so the household wasn’t disturbed. She rubbed her eyes in disbelief, but they were still there: link after link to Lucy stories written by fans whose love for the stories continued strong. Trixie clicked on the link to the first story on the page, Rendezvous in Russia, and began to read.
Four hours, dozens of posts, and eight stories later, Trixie was startled by rustling sounds upstairs. She glanced at the clock. Six. I’m surprised Bobby lasted this long. Surprised by how stiff her muscles had become, Trixie hastily returned the screen to the page Mart had left it on. Just in time too, because just as Trixie reached the tree, a blond head peeked around the doorway. It wasn’t the blond curls of her younger brother, however, but the cropped head of her almost twin.
Trixie grinned at him. She finally had the ammunition to get back at him for all those "Lucy Belden" cracks. But then she paused.
Mart stared at her. "I deduce from your atypical appearance prior to the dawning of Aurora that you were, as is your wont, incapable of containing your curiosity. Remember, squaw, twas that inquisitiveness that hastened the expiration of the feline."
Trixie once again reconsidered. That remark deserved a little…No. It’s Christmas. But I’d better get BIG maturity points for this one.
So instead she smiled at him. "If you mean I’m up early, you’re right."
Mart poked around the tree. "Trying to guess what your Christmas presents are?
Trixie nodded.
"Think you got what you wanted?"
Trixie smiled once again. "I already did." Though Mart looked puzzled, Trixie didn’t elaborate. Shrugging, he turned back to the tree. Trixie mouthed, "Merry Christmas, R.O.G.U.E." at his back. The she glanced over at the computer. I’m not the only one, she thought happily to herself. Mart was going to have some competition for computer time now.
The End
- Mart takes a computer class in The Pet Show Mystery.
- In The Gatehouse Mystery, Mart suggests that the BWGs call themselves the "Riders of the Glen," R.O.G. or "Rogues" for short.