Point of View of a Christmas Ornament

I came to live in this house, for Bobby’s first Christmas. I was always thankful for my place on the mantle, safe from baby hands but with a good view of the tree. I watched many a glass ornament be grabbed out of Bobby’s hands and placed higher in the branches safely out of baby reach. I so enjoyed watching the holiday parties held by the Bobwhites, especially the glimpses of each of the boys and yes, even Daddy, catching their special girl under the mistletoe for a chaste seasonal kiss.

After Christmas, I would spend the rest of the year, hidden in the dark corners of the attic wrapped in tissue paper to protect the thin glass skin ornaments in the pretty red and green colors that dressed my waxy core like a fine holiday garment. I would wait patiently for the holiday cleaning before the Thanksgiving Open House, when I would be gently dusted and placed back on the fireplace mantle

When Moms first put me on the kitchen table this year, I was very disappointed. I worried that for some reason I had been demoted from the gaety of the living room. Oh how wrong I was. Maybe it was because Bobby is older, and Moms doesn’t have to worry so much about careless curious hands, but I learned that I had been missing so much fun not being in the kitchen.

I saw cooking and cookie baking. I was able to see the squabbles between Trixie and Mart, and the gentle inteference by Brian which would bring peace between the almost twins. I watched how Mart teased Bobby to be good so the shelf elf would not make a naughty report to Santa. I watched all the Beldens, from Bobby all the way up to Daddy, open the silverware drawer and pull out a spoon and then open the refridgerator and poke their heads in to get a spoonfull of sweet, cold, cookie dough. I wanted to laugh when Moms said that she ought to make extra dough just for eating from the spoon.

And I learned about the family tradition of counting wood.

One day, Moms was in the kitchen on the phone with Uncle Andrew and even a christmas ornament could be detective enough to know that she was talking about Christmas presents. All the Bobwhites were gathering in the kitchen, dressed and ready to go spend an afternoon in the snow. Moms had confirmed Uncle Andrews ideas for everyone except Bobby. Mart and Bobby were clomping down the stairs, and Mart was trying to convince Bobby that if he rubbed his hands together really hard, they would smell like peanut butter. You know, that old trick to get the innocent to slap themselves? But Moms had other ideas.

Moms said, “Bobby, I need to know that we can have a good fire tonight. You go out to the shed and count the wood.” 

Brian, Mart and Trixie suddenly swiviled their heads toward Bobby with huge grins on their faces, but Dan and Jim both looked at Moms in astonishment. Jim volunteered, “We’ll go out for you Mrs. B, and bring in some good armloads of wood.” 

Before the offer was clear of Jim’s mouth, I saw Mart gave Dan a shoulder shove. 

He ordered, “No, I need Dan to help me find the ski wax at the clubhouse.” 

Brian turned to Jim. “I need you, Honey and Di to help Trixie and I with the Christmas lights out front. I think one of the lines is trying to come down.”

I saw the other Bobwhites spin in surprise to look at the older Belden siblings and watched all three of them with huge grins on their faces, and their hands in front of their mouths signalling to be quiet.
Mart wheeled around to Bobby. “Well, go on, get your coat on. And when you get out there, make sure you count every piece. Sometimes little pieces that are good for kindling get pushed way in the back.”

Mom’s returned, “Yes Bobby, all the older kids started counting wood for me when they were ten, but I really think you are old enough to handle the job for me even though you are only nine. Hurry up, and I will have some nice hot chocolate with marshmallows ready when you are done.”

After Bobby went outside, Moms returned to her phone call with Uncle Andrew. “Go ahead Andy, Bobby is safely out of earshot now and we can talk in peace.”

Mart, and Trixie doubled over in laughter with tears running down their face. Brian made the effort to shush them while trying to hold back his own laughter. “If you don’t settle down, he will hear you, and this won’t ever work for Moms again.” 

Brian looked at Di. “You have younger siblings, so you ought to be famialiar with this.” 

Mart looked at Dan, Jim and Honey. “Moms used to use the military phonetic alphabet when she had to say something in front of us kids that she didn’t want us to understand. But when each of us finally broke that code, she knew that she had to instigate the next level of parental subtrafuge. She sent us out to the shed and told us to count wood. Every one of us was gullible enough to fall for it every time.”

You know, if I weren’t sitting around this candle, and if I hadn’t heard it myself, I never would have believed that Moms would be so sneaky.

Maybe during the next year in the attic I will be able to hear some good stories on Moms if she will pack me in the same box with that shelf elf.

Dec 4, 2014: The Sound of silence. Dead silence. Silence is golden.

Her counselor asks, “Why didn’t you tell someone or ask for help? Why did you keep silent?” Trixie responded. “You know, there are so many types of silence. There is silence, which isn’t even real silence.” “Imagine, you are alone in a damp wooded area, like the Wheeler Preserve. There is total silence, except it really isn’t the absence of sound. You hear the wind and it sounds less like a moan, and more like a low whistle. Then you hear the sound of the damp loose leaves skittering and dancing across the ground until they slap into the base of the trees born by the weight of the rain absorbed by the paper thin membranes. You hear the light rain hitting the muddy path, and the occasional splash of the drops into the already present puddles of water. You hear the very light chittering of the birds who are scrambling to huddle as tightly as possible, in hopes that many can help keep the one dry. You may feel, more than hear, the rasp of your breath as you inhale the scent of the rain and the wet dirt. You wish for someone to help you break the silence, but you they can’t because you are alone. Then there is another kind of silence. It is the silence of not talking, because you can’t believe that anybody, anyone listening to you would believe what you have to say. I was fortunate, in a way. I knew that my abuser didn’t believe that he was doing anything wrong, and he didn’t hide his actions.  I couldn't articulate why I was so unhappy. He kept telling me that I was taking risks and getting myself in danger, that I couldn’t be trusted to keep myself safe. He kept saying that he was only trying to protect me, and that is why he would find me in town, and take my keys away and insist on driving me home. Everybody always thought that he was so honorable, and responsible and  because he was open about his abuse, it seemed less like something bad.  I couldn’t believe that anyone would ever listen and believe me when I tried to tell them what he was doing to me. You may feel, more than hear, the rasp of your breath as you inhale the scent of the fear and the threat of the pain. You wish for someone to help you break the silence, but they can’t because you are alone. That is why I lived with the thundering sound of silence.”

Nov 7, 2014: "To the right, ever to the right, never to the left, forever to the right!"No

The cold wind is blowing across the wide open terraces with the rows of white stones that top the undulating hills and give testament to the fallen men and women who have given their lives for their country. Remembrance poppies snuggle in lapels while icy sleet fights for purchase on the already wet cheeks of the family members who have come this dreary, early November afternoon. Everyone is there. Moms and Daddy, Brian, Mart, Trixie and their families as well as childhood friends, Larry and Terry Lynch. And then there is Bobby. Although he wears no rank insignia today, they have all come to witness the recognition of 1st Lieutenant Robert Belden today. Diana leans close and whispers to both Mart and Trixie. “I keep remembering the five little kids practicing their Jody calls and marching commands.” (Fade in. Five kids in white tee-shirts, blue jeans and white Keds tennis shoes.) Forward harch!

Hup two three four.

Hup two three four. You had a good home but you left

Your Right

You had a good home but you left

your right

Jody was there when you left

your right

your baby was there when you left

your right

Sound off

one two Sound off

three four Cadence Count

one two three four one

two

three four Fall In! Atten - shun! A bout Face! Leeeft Face Riiight Face (Fade out) Moms lookes over at the group and frowns as Trixie giggles at Diana's memory. Moms frown only made Trixie giggle more as she spoke of her own memory. “I remember how Bobby insisted on being the Drill Sergeant, and he didn’t put up with any stragglers from either set of twins." Mark groaned. “Yeah, I got so tired of watching Stargate with him because he always complained about the sloppy salute given by Kurt Russell in the movie. Every time, he would say, ‘I don’t care how depressed or disallusioned he was, there isn’t any honest to God career Colonel who would make such a sloppy salute.’ Brian interjected, “And it got even worse after they watched Renaissance Man and started copying all those cadence’s. I think my favorite was Hamlet’s Mama”. All the Bobwhites begin chanting together, “Hamlet's mama, she's a queen.

Buys it in the final scene.

Drinks a glass of funky wine.

Now she's Satan's valentine.” Diana said, “I never would have guessed that would drive Larry to study and then perform Shakespeare.” Dan broke in, “When Bobby got his first command, I wanted so badly to warn his platoon that he had been practicing drills since he was six years old.” Jim asked, “Why didn’t you?” Dan returned with a level look. “Are you kidding me? He scared me. He had grown to be two inches taller than I was and had more muscles than I ever got chopping wood. I had no doubt that if I told tales, he would assign me to KP and make it stick.” The sudden firing of a twenty-one gun salute at a nearby burial made the young mothers hurry to cover their children's ears and hug the little ones close. Then Moms twitched Brians sleeve. “You all need to settle down now. They are ready to start." The whole group drew in their breaths. They all stood a little bit straighter as if they were obeying their baby brothers long ago commands. They watched in awe as Robert Belden took his first turn as a Sentinel at the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier. As part of the Third United States Infantry Regiment or " Old Guard", he honored the fallen as only one soldier can do for another. Jody call - cadence rhythm used by soldiers to keep up speed and moral while marching distances. Stargate - No profit is being made from the mention of this movie or of the starring actor, Kurt Russell. Renaissance Man - No profit is being made from the mention of this movie.

Members of the Old Guard wear no ranking insignia so as to not outrank the unknown soldiers.

Oct 22, 2014 Prompt: A scary movie

Trixie stood unnaturally still in the cheerful kitchen  She was wearing a dark shroud like dress while Honey pinned, clipped and folded to complete the alterations of the costume that Trixie would wear on Halloween night.  Honey was fitting the garment so that it would be long enough to cover the hidden gadgets in the clothes, but but not long enough to trip Trixie as she walked around the haunted house.   They were both out of the main path of traffic over near the swinging door to the dining room.  Even though Trixie was behaving well and not fidgeting during the course of the alterations,  both girls jumped as someone suddenly tried to push open the swinging door from the dining room. “Hey what’s going on?” called Brian. “Why won’t the door open? asked Jim. Honey giggled and replied, “We shot the bolt closed because we are working on a project here and didn’t want to get bumped.  You can both go around through the back hall.” When Brian, closely followed by Jim entered the kitchen they were surprised by what they saw.  Not only was Trixie standing on a seamstress stool having a dress altered but Diana was sitting at one end of the kitchen table painting paper mache masks.  Moms and Caroline Lynch were at the other end of the table decorating sugar cookies with orange and black icing. Jim gently teased Diana, “Di,  I am afraid you have as much paint on your face as you do on the masks.  Only it is not your signature purple color” Diana blushed and looked up through her dark thick lashes.  “Well, I didn’t want to have anybody mistake the demons for ghostly royalty.  Did you get everything? Brian leaned over the table and laid out his loot.  “Not quite.  We got the blood packets, the knives and the fake meat, but we weren’t able to find a copy of the movie anywhere.” Honey glared as Trixie finally lost her calm still demeanor and pouted, “No movie?  This haunted house won’t work very well if we don’t have ‘Texas Chainsaw Massacre’ to have running in the background. Helen and Caroline looked up, gasped and shouted in unison. “No!” Five pair of eyes turned to gaze at both mothers. “Mummy?” cried Diana. “Moms. You’re pale as a ghost” worried Brian. Caroline took a calming breath, then said, “You are not playing that movie at my house and you are not making a haunted house to look like that move.  Make a haunted house about Frankenstein.  Do something about ‘The Exorcist’.  For all I care, you can make tubs of green pea soup.  But you are not doing, ‘Texas Chainsaw Massacre!” Diana laughed nervously.  “But Mummy, the Monsignor surely wouldn’t approve of us doing The Exorcist.” Caroline whispered, “Don’t bet on it Diana.  He heard my terrified confession after I saw that movie.  He worked half the night with both Helen and I to get us both calmed down enough to go home and sleep in our own beds.  He even asked that night, “why did this movie bother you so much while The Exorcist didn’t.” I told him, that seeing Exorcist in a movie theater surrounded by friends and a hundred or so other people was nothing.  But going to a late night showing,  by myself, so I could pick up Helen after she got off work was something else.” That show started at 10.00 p.m.  Helen wouldn’t get off until 11.00 after the concession stand closed.  This was at the Drive In movie theater in White Plains.  There were only a few other cars there, and we were all spaced far away from each other.” I was being all brave about it just being a movie.  I cracked the window so I could place the speaker on the glass.  One of the opening scenes was of an old slaughter house.  These five kids picked up a hitchhiker and then when he started telling weird stories about how his family has always been in meat, they dumped him off on the side of the road.  Then they were in town and they stopped to eat and an old man at the diner told them that he had some good barbecue.  They finally got directions to their grandfathers house.  That scene was of an old two story house, like some of the old ones on Hawthorne street that have those old wrap-around porches.  It wasn’t too long after that, that they showed the freezer with the dead bodies and then the man standing with the chainsaw in his hands. That is when I put the speaker back on the pole, and went in to the concession stand to wait for Helen.  There was no way that I could stand to sit in that car by myself watching that movie.” The sudden revving of a chainsaw motor caused both women to scream. Helen choked out, “I didn’t even see the movie.  But Caroline was so scared that I got scared too.  No.  You will not be using ‘Texas Chainsaw Massacre’ as a prop for your haunted house.

Oct 15, 2014: Dirty Dozen - message, pants, angle, vitamins, memory, truck, swimming, service, band, shirt, thistle, finance.

In the early dawn light Trixie huddled on the cracked leather of the bench seat in the old dark green 57 chevy pickup.  Her hoody sweatshirt wasn’t very much help in keeping her warm.  She was heartily wishing for the warmth of a late model truck with heated seats and more leg room. Every time she moved her legs to smooth the bunched up wrinkles of her pants, or  slid her feet under the angled output of the heater vent, she worried about kicking the console stick shift out of gear and rolling down the small hill of the parking lot. Dan was sitting off to the side,  in the cab of a Peterbilt tractor truck registered to Pennsylvania. He had gone into the service station store and laid the bait of being a trucker who didn’t want to ‘dead head’* back home. Now he was sitting there, actually hoping that nobody approached him to hire his rig.  He needed to stay right here, searching for their quarry that would be hauling booze to Pennsylvania.  Once they found the right target, he would abandon the rig, and join her in the chevy to trail the illegal booze across the border.  There, they would signal the state police in Pennsylvania who would take over the chase and make the necessary arrests at the end of the line. Trixie closely watched the trailing line of a dozen or more eighteen wheeler trucks that were patiently waiting their turn at the gas tanks.  She was glad she was able to recognize and sort the different details of all the trucks.  If it wasn’t for her memory, finding the right truck to follow could make this investigation a lot harder to complete. Considering that she was on the lookout for trucks possibly hauling illegal liquor, she couldn’t help seeing the analogy between the trucks waiting to be gassed up and a bunch of drunks bellying up to the bar for their share of drinks that were ‘on the house’. Their confidential informant had sent them a message that a new band of thieves  was working to finance a scheme to transport liquor across the border from New York, to Pennsylvania.  This was particularly bad news since Pennsylvania,  being a control state, prohibits the sale of wine and distilled spirits except in state controlled stores.  Therefore it was important for interstate relations that New York law enforcement close the pipeline from their state to their next door neighbor. Suddenly, the cb radio crackled, and Trixie heard a gravelly voice say, “Breaker Big Orange, you got your ears on?  This is Thistle.” Another younger voice responded, “That’s a 10-4 good buddy.  I don’t think we have any bears with ears or plain brown wrappers to worry about.  I just saw a cheese wagon go by, and my dashboard puppy is taking a well deserved nap.  I think we are good to go.  Big Orange, over and out” “I hope you took all your vitamins this morning. It looks like we have a have a long day ahead of us.  But we’ll be swimming in green-stamps at the end of the day.   Thistle out.”

Trixie grinned at the revelation of which truck she needed to follow.  She put the chevy in gear, and drove over to the Bob-tail and attracted Dan’s attention with a shrill Bobwhite whistle.  As she slid across the bench seat to let him climb in behind the steering wheel, she said, “Come on! We can pass the package to the Keystone Cops and then I am ready to go get some chocolate from Hershey Town.” *Thanks to Trish for explaining that ‘dead head’ means not driving an empty ruck back to home base. **Pennsylvania - All wine and spirits is sold in Pennsylvania Liquor Control Board stores, known as 'State Stores'. Malt beverages are sold in case lots by licensed beer retailers known as 'distributors', and in smaller quantities by on-premise establishments. The number of licenses to serve alcohol (including beer and wine) in restaurants is limited based on county populations.[8]  http://www.justice.gov/oig/reports/ATF/e0905.pdf Thanks to Mary C for the thought to use CB lingo.

Bears with ears: a police officer listening to others on the CBF

Cheese wagon:  A school bus

dashboard puppy:Radar Detector or other portable monitor (usually with an audible alarm).

Big Orange:  Skelton Truck Lines Truck.

Bob-tail:  a semi-tractor operating without a trailer.

Keystone Cops: Keystone State is a nickname for Pennsylvania.  Trixie is talking of handing the package to the Pennsylvania LEO’s.  Trixie means no disrespect but  Keystone Cops were also fictional incompetent policemen.

Hershey Town:  Hershey, Pennsylvania

green-stamps - money

Facial Expressions and Gestures

The outline of sunlight laying on the floor formed a silhouette of the windows of the west wall of the living room.  The picture of the late afternoon sunlight broken only by the shadows of the window braces stretched across the room to barely touch the toes of the shoes of the three teenage boys who were enveloped in the pillow back sofa  that seemed to wrap them in safety. Or was the couch actually a prison, securing them as surely as the iron bars of a prison cell. Opposit them, in straight backed wooden chairs, their prosecutors sat side by side.  A hairbreadth of space further on, sat their judge, draped in an infants receiving blanket rather than the usual black judicial robes. Bobby, shifted uncomfortably in his seat and with a face full of curiosity he leaned forward to speak.  “Trixie?  What’s going on?  Why did you and Diana and Honey call us over here?” Trixie ground out her words, her face almost black with anger. “Robert Belden!  If Moms knew the language you were using, I know that she would wash your mouth out with the strongest soap that she could find.” Diana interrupted and spoke to her brothers.  “Larry and Terry Lynch,  I saw that.  You sighed and grinned in relief like you think you aren’t the one in trouble, but you shouldn’t relax just yet.  Mummy will hear about this,  and in addition to the soap, I would bet that you will both be grounded for a month.” Trixie stood up and advanced to loom over the boys.  “I am sure that you probably heard this language at school from other guys.  But I know that both Daddy and Mr. Lynch will be so disappointed in the three of you.  I don’t even want to guess what Jim, Brian, Mart, or Dan will say.  I don’t think they would even use these words talking among themselves, and I am certain that none of them would ever use these words in front of the ‘little pictures with big ears’ that are Joseph and Danielle.” Each of the boys struggled to extricate themselves from the incarceration of the sofa.  When they were free, they each stood shoulder to shoulder facing their accuser. Terry exclaimed, “Just what the heck are you talking about Trixie?  We have never used any bad language in front of the kids.” Diana huffed at her brothers.  “Well, it isn’t exactly bad language.  But is sure isn’t respectful to talk about a woman’s chest as bosoms and ta ta’s. Especially since this month is Breast Cancer Awareness month.  Honey was nursing Brianna today, when Nellie Bean started talking about ta ta’s and Joey talked about buzzooms.” The three boys each started talking at the same time.  Finally, Bobby let loose with the shrill whistle of a Bobwhite quail.  “Look.  You listen to us. We have never used that sort of language.  Don’t you think that our parents taught us better than that?” A screen door slammed nearby accompanied by the excited chatter of two young children.  The six combatants turned towards the living room door and watched as Joey carrying a Buzz Lightyear toy and Nellie Bean holding a small bean sprout each dragged their fathers into the room.    As soon as the children saw the boys, they ran to their Uncle Bobby and grabbed him to get his attention. “Buzzoom” said Joey and Nellie Bean shrieked, “Ta Ta!” Trixie and Dinah yelled in unison, “See?  We knew that it had to be one of you!  Bobby, I am so ashamed … Robert Belden, why are you laughing?This isn’t at all funny!” With tears running down his cheeks, Bobby chortled, “Let me translate dear sister.  Buzzoom is ‘Buzz Lightyear goes zoom’.  See the way Joey is waving Buzz around?” Trixie humphed and said, “Maybe so.  But why is Nellie Bean saying ta ta?” Bobbie grinned and rolled his eyes as he said, “Don’t you see that her bean plant sprouted?  She isn’t saying ta ta.  She is saying, ‘Tah Dah!”

Balloons

Helen was in the middle of preparations to make Crabapple Farm Specials for a late lunch, when she was interrupted by the insistent ring of the telephone.

“Hello, Crabapple Farm.”

Caroline Lynch interrupted any further greeting from Helen.  “Hello Helen.  I was wondering if the boys are ready to come home for lunch.”

“Caroline, all three of them left over an hour ago.  I think they were planning on stopping in to see Regan about exercising the horses.”

“But Helen, Regan isn’t at the stables.  He left early this morning to go to Pennsylvania to look at a new horse for Maddy.  Ok, I’ll call Ms. Trask and see if she has seen them and will send them on home.”

“Umh Caroline, Ms. Trask left last night to go visit her sister this weekend.” Helen wrinkled her forehead in thought. “Trixie and Honey went to Mrs. Vanderpoels this morning. They were planning on getting together with Diana when both of you got back from shopping, and Brian, Mart and Jim are over at Maypenny’s helping Dan put on a new roof.”

“I just dropped Diana at Manor House when we got back about thirty minutes ago.”

Before either parent could speculate on the mischief that the BLT could be up to, Helen suddenly heard the clatter of a door slamming.  Through the phone, she heard Diana and the boys chattering excitedly.

Caroline exclaimed, “Diana, all of you are soaking wet!  What on earth happened?”

Diana laughed and said, “Mom, you will never guess!  She got the BLT set up with water balloons.  First they were aiming at each other, even her.  The boys were all wet, and so was she.  Then when I went around back of the Manor House looking for Honey,  they all turned and started aiming at me. I have never seen her having so much fun.”

Caroline sputtered, “Trixie set this up?”

Diana exploded.  “NO!  Mrs. Wheeler did.”

Helen heard one of the boys interrupt.  “It was awesome Mom.  We had gone to the stables looking for Regan, but he wasn’t there.  Then Mrs. Wheeler came back from her ride, and since we didn’t have anything else to do, we helped her take care of the horse and the tack. “

Next Helen recognized Bobby’s voice.  “She asked us to finish up and wait in the stables for her, that she had something to get from the house.” 

The last twin took over the story and said, “When she got back, she had a big plastic jar of water balloons, and four plastic laundry baskets.  She took us to the back of the house, and we started filling up the water balloons and separating them into the baskets.”

Helen heard Bobby break in again.  “Then she divided us into teams,  Mrs. Wheeler was on my team, and we started a balloon war.  Then Diana showed up, and we all started aiming for her.  Well, Mrs. Wheeler held back a little.  But after Diana was all wet, too, Mrs. Wheeler sent me to Larry and Terry’s team, and she and Diana got together against us guys.  I never thought that Mrs Wheeler could be so cool!”

Helen heard Caroline laugh.  “Well, all of you go upstairs and get dried off and changed into dry clothes.  Lunch will be ready in a little while.”

“Helen, did you hear all of that?”

Helen laughed. “Yes, I am here, Caroline.  Just last week when we were talking about taking the boys to the fair, I told you that she really enjoys seeing what she missed with Jim at this age.  I think that this proves that she enjoys spoiling them and then sending them home to us.”

Move

As Mart was walking down the hall to his room, he heard the sound of Bobby kicking the wall.  He moved to the open bedroom door and saw Bobby tossing and turning in his sleep. Mart thought it looked a lot like when Reddy moved around because he was in doggy dreamland, running, chasing, and playing fetch.

Because Bobby had kicked off his blankets, Mart turned on the bedside lamp to straighten the covers and cover him up against the cold of the night.  But as he watched, he saw a look of terror move across Bobby’s face, as well as droplets of sweat appearing on his forehead.  Suddenly, Bobby cried out.


“Trixie!  Nooooooo!”

Mart reached out an arm to shake his younger brother awake.

“Bobby.  Hey Bobbster.  Wake up.  It is only a dream.”
Bobby scooted away from the arm and moved closer to the wall.  

Mart spoke again.

“Bobby, it’s me.  Mart.  Wake up buddy.  Everythings okay.  It’s just you and me here.  Mom and Dad are in their bedroom, and Trixie is up at Manor House spending the night with Honey and Diana.”


Bobby blinked open his eyes and stared into the light of the room.  “Mart? Is it really you?”

Mart finished straightening the covers.  “Sure, it’s really me.  Who did you think it was?”

Bobby breathed a deep sigh.  “I thought it was Mr. Lytell.  He was chasing me through the woods, because Larry and I saw him with his shirt off.“ 

Mart exploded with a big laugh. “Well, I admit that Old Man Lytell is strange, but the image of him with his shirt off takes the cake.  Hmm.  You know, you had a pretty big piece of cake while you watched that old science fiction movie tonight. Maybe both of those gave you nightmares.  But that was just a dream, and everything is fine.  You need to go back to sleep now.”

“No Mart, it is real.  Don’t you remember when you were late for curfew because of those strange green strawberry looking lights on the sky?  You said that Mr. Lytell came out of the woods and told people to go home because there wasn’t any spaceship?

“In my dream,  Mr. Lytell was talking to someone else, someone named Great Pubah and he was saying that if this Pubah guy  would just tell him why they had to get the strawberry pop to Trixie, then maybe he could come up with better ways to make the transfer.

“Mart! Then I saw Trixie talking to Daddy.  She said that he needed to talk to me because I realized that Mr. Lytell is an alien and that soon I would figure out that the Strawberry Pop is the Brides Price to marry her off to that Pubahtosis guy.”

“Bobby that does sound like a horrible dream, but it was only a dream.  You know that Trixe isn’t going to marry anybody for a long time, and when she does, it will be Jim and he will protect her from everything including space aliens.  Now settle down and go to sleep.  Morning will be here before you know it.”

Mart?   I thought you said that the other people watching the light on Glen Road that night were afraid it was some strange fire or explosion or something.

“So why did Mr. Lytell come out of the woods and say there wasn’t any spaceship?  And what is a Bride's Price?”

One Drink too many

“Mart!” Diana exclaimed in frustration.  “Just what did you and Joseph do this afternoon? He and Yorick are running around out there like they are both whirlwinds.”

“We went to that truck farm over in White-Plains.  We walked through the corn maze, and then  Joe and I were allowed to drive the tractor around the pasture until it was time to go on the hay ride.  After that, all the kids were invited to climb around the old barn and slide down the haymow.  Don’t worry,  everything was safe.  It only looked rickety to make it fun for the kids.  By that time, Joe and I were ready for lunch and after that we came home. Diana thought a minute as she looked out the kitchen window at the dog and boy.  “That sounds like a busy enough day that he should be tired out and ready for a nap.  Instead he looks like he is hopped up on…”  Diana stopped and gave her husband a long look. “Mart, what did you two have for lunch?”

Mart’s face took on a beatific expression.  “We had turkey salad sandwiches on some of Mom’s homemade bread, and homemade potato chips that we bought from the truck farm.  We finished off with some great chocolate cake and spiced apple cider.  Joe had two glasses, he liked it so much.” Diana let out a shocked whisper.  “Two?  Two glasses of apple cider?”  She raised her voice.   “Mart, don’t you think that is a lot of sugar for one 4 year old boy?  No wonder he is so hyper.  He had one drink too many!”

Prompt: Lather, Rinse, and Repeat.

Nellie Bean struggled in Trixie's arms and said, “Want to p'yay, want to p'yay in the water with Daddy.”

Dan looked at Trixie and grimaced. “Don’t you dare laugh. I am not sure why I got this job. I never had dogs when I was growing up, and it is is your almost-twin’s dog! By rights you should be the one down here bathing Yorick.”

Trixie cheerfully responded. “But I am not the one that agreed to dog-sit while they are visiting in Arizona, or that took that pup tramping around in the preserve and gave her the chance to find a nice little baby to take care of and play with.

How many times have you bathed her so far?”

Dan shrugged. “I think about four times. Lather, rinse, and repeat. Etcetera, Etcetera, Etcetera. Now that you have gotten back from the store, I can bathe her in the tomato juice and maybe she will finally stop smelling quite so much like skunk.”

Trixie laughed. “It really is too bad that Mart isn’t here. I would have loved to have seen him trying to get Yorick to drop the skunk kit before the real mama showed up. I swear, it really looked like Yorick thought she finally had a puppy to take care of.

Blackbird

Aug 15, 2014:  The August 15th writing prompt involved the top ten Beatles songs.   I am making no profit from the partial use of this song, nor from the use of the characters from the Trixie Belden series.  And many thanks to Vivian and Chey for the editing help.  However, I played with the story after their edits, so any errors are and always will be my own.  Also thanks to the writers of NCIS from whom I borrowed the pivotal plot point.

♩♩♬♬♩  Blackbird singing in the dead of night

The small individual moved with sneaky grace and was dressed much like a black bear.  No,  a bear is too husky.  A leopard maybe?  No.  The black costume made her look like a small blackbird, from the the light-weight dark stocking cap covering her bouncy blond curls, to the black rock climbing slippers on her feet.

There. There is a chittering whistle.  Odd,  the only whistles usually heard in these parts are the sound of a bobwhite quail.  But bobwhites don’t whistle in the dead of night.  Well, not unless they are human and not unless someone is in trouble.
 

But again, this is a chittering whistle.  Less about calling for help, and more about saying, ‘I am here and I am okay.’

♩♩♬♬♩ Take these broken wings and learn to fly

Quietly and more surefooted than her almost twin would expect of the former yellow-daffodil, she climbed up the rain spout to the second floor balcony and peered in the open window.  Most blackbirds would wonder why the window was open.  But with the recent power outage working in her favor, she knew the window was open to gather as much sweet cool air into the apartment as was possible from the hot sultry night.

♩♩♬♬♩ All your life, You were only waiting for this moment to arise

Suddenly, lightning flashed, and the blackbird huddled against the coarse brick of the building and paused to count the seconds while she listened for the boom of thunder.  It would help to have an idea of how far away the storm was. That way, she could better gauge the amount of time that would be available to search the apartment before the tenant rushed in to close the window against the coming storm.

♩♩♬♬♩ Blackbird singing in the dead of night

An explosive boom of thunder filled the night. The blackbird whistled again to her compatriot, this time to warn of her impending entry to the apartment.  It was his job to keep the tenant occupied as long as possible.

♩♩♬♬♩ Take these sunken eyes and learn to see

The blackbird cautiously spilled over the windowsill and, using a thin beam from a pencil flashlight, she began her search for the treasure.  The electricity was off, so there was no point in checking the computer, but she knew that her prey was more inclined toward the old fashioned methods of pencil and paper.  She only hoped to find some remnant of evidence which would prove that her almost twin had a new occupation as ghost author of the Cosmo McNaught series for boys.

♩♩♬♬♩ All your life, You were only waiting for this moment to be free

She looked for almost twenty minutes and was beginning to panic that she would be discovered before her search was completed.  As she rummaged in the trash can for any scraps of paper, she realized that she was looking at a stream of used typewriter ribbon.  She remembered that she had seen several boxes of replacement spools in one of the desk drawers.  Her hand stilled on the black tape.  She had seen the manual typewriter, but had thought that it was little more than an old machine, sort of like a piece of bulky art.  But, if it was only an antique, why on earth would Mart have several boxes of new printwheels in the desk drawer and a used one in the trash?  She decided to take the used tape out of the trash and replace it with a fresh spool from the desk drawer.  If she worked carefully, she could make the new ribbon look like it had been used and thrown in the trash.  As she placed the spent cartridge and extra packaging in an evidence bag to take home to examine, she moved towards the window. 

♩♩♬♬♩ Black bird fly, Black bird fly,  Into the light of the dark black night

After climbing back onto the balcony, she released another chittering whistle as an all clear and slid down the gutter spout.  She considered the best way to leverage the evidence in her hands as she took off into the light of the dark black night.

Distaff Side. (Trixie age 21)

The August 15th, 2014 writing prompt involved the top ten Beatles songs. Although Help was not in the top ten list, it was a good venue to continue the Reflections snippet. I am making no profit from the partial use of this song, nor from the use of the characters from the Trixie Belden series. And many thanks to Vivian and Chey for the editing help. However, I played with the story after their edits, so any errors are and always will be my own. (This was originally posted on Jix in August 2014. However, when it was transferred to the blog, it was tagged as a draft instead of an actual post.)

♬Help, I need somebody

“Why are you here?”

“I was in an abusive relationship.  My boyfriend, well he ...”

“Does your boyfriend hurt you?

“What?  No!  Well not physically.  And he isn’t my boyfriend. Not any more.  We broke up.

♬When I was younger, so much younger than today

“Well, I broke up with him.

“We had basically been together since I was thirteen and he was turning fifteen.  We met when he ran away from his abusive stepfather, a year or so after his mom died.

♬I never needed anybodys help in any way

“I thought he was the most wonderful boy in the world.  He was so smart that he had already earned a college scholarship when he was just fourteen. He could ride horses, and hunt and shoot.  When he was a runaway, he even hooked up an outdoor shower to help him keep clean.
 
“Then, he was adopted by my best friend’s parents.  They gave him a nice home, managed the money his great uncle left him so it would be there when he grew up and they kept him safe and loved. We kinda grew up together after all that. 

♬But now these days are gone, I’m not so self-assured

“I, well both of us really, were too young to realize how his past affected his life.

"He had already lost first his Dad and then his Mom.  And even though he had a new sister and  adoptive parents, he was still so afraid of something else happening that would take the good things away.  So I gave him a lot of latitude when he got over protective.”

♬Now I find, I’ve changed my mind and opened up the doors.

“When did you break up?”

“A couple of months ago, back in January.

"Whoa, I hadn’t realized that it has been seven months.

 "I broke up with him because not only was he over-protective, but he was arrogant, patronizing, and mostly because he didn’t seem to trust me, even though I never gave him any reason not to.
 

"I looked up the signs of domestic violence because of a class I was taking. When I did, I realized that he showed more than half the indicators of an abuser.

♬And now my life has changed in oh so many ways

“So what have you been doing in the last seven months?”

“I am in my third year of college and I am working as a security guard to supplement my scholarships.”

“So you’re about 21?”

Trixie nodded.

“And you haven’t been dating since the breakup?  Is there any particular reason for that?”

“No, I haven’t dated.  I have had coffee with a couple of guys from my classes, but nothing seemed to click, you know? 

"And maybe...”

“Maybe what?”

“Maybe I am afraid of getting involved all over again with another controlling guy? I don't know.”

♬Help me if you can, I’m feeling down

“Tell me about the other men in your life. Your father, brothers, peers;  are any of them controlling?”

“You have to understand my family before I answer that.  I am the third of four children and the only girl.  My parents both grew up in an age where gender roles were very defined.  Women did household chores, and men did outside chores.

“My parents made my older brothers responsible for me, the way they made me responsible for my youngest brother, Bobby, who just turned 15.  My oldest brother, Brian, is twenty-four and a little over two years older than me. But, since he skipped a year of school, he is three years ahead of me academically.  Then there is my brother Mart.  He is twenty-two and only eleven months older than me, so my family has always joked about us being twins for the thirty-one days between my birthday on the first of May and his  birthday on the first of June.
 
“My parents had the typical double standard of giving my older brothers more privileges because they were boys, than they gave me at the same age.

"I admit, that when I was younger, I made my share of irresponsible decisions, and that I often times rushed headlong into some dangerous situations.  But isn’t part of growing up learning to know the difference between good and bad choices?

"Now my family,  well maybe not so much my brothers but my parents anyway, have gradually started treating me like a responsible adult able to make my own decisions.  I do know they worry, but they are mostly supportive of my career goals.
 "I really think that the parental and sibling rules that I lived with when I was growing up, really affected my self esteem. I think that is why I had such a hard time recognizing the controlling way that Jim treated me.  It wasn't that far off from the way that my family treated me as a teenager.  But, Jim kept on treating me like he thought I was still 13 years old.

“I am in college.  I’m studying Criminal Justice.  I’m in self-defense classes, and I have gotten all of my certifications to legally carry a weapon, a police baton and pepper-spray for my job.  I have learned to be more cautious.  But the training I am receiving will also help me handle dangerous situations that I might encounter when I become a licensed private investigator in a few more years.”

♬Help me, get my feet back on the ground, Won't you please, please help me

“Ok.  You have told me about your father, your brothers, and Jim.  Are there any other men in your life?  Are they controlling?”

“Well,  there is one other guy.  Dan. He isn't controlling at all.    

“I have known him almost as long as I have known Jim. 

"You know, Jim and Dan had some similarities in their background.  They both lost their parents when they were twelve or so.  They both had to survive by their own wits for a time before each of their lives were turned around by new family situations.  But they each adjusted to those challenges in such different ways.  

“After Jim's Dad died, he thought he should be responsible for his mother. But she remarried and then she died. His stepfather was abusive. Jim kept trying to get away, but every time he did, he was dragged back and beaten some more and forced to work on the farm. After he finally did get away, even though he accepted the adoption and his new family, I think, for a while, he accepted it as the lesser of two evils.  Once he began to feel comfortable with his new family, he believed that the only option for his security was to do every thing he could to keep everybody happy and safe.  

“Dan had no control over his parents deaths, either.  He had an abusive stepfather too, but because he didn't think the police or child protective services would believe him about his stepfather, he managed to get away by joining a gang and living on the streets. 

"It wasn’t the best decision, but, he did his best to limit his involvement in the gang as much as possible. He did just enough to be able to get something to eat and have some place to sleep. 

  

"Then he got lucky and fell into a situation that helped him get out of the gang and get a new guardian as well as finding an uncle.  While it took some time for him to settle in with his new guardian, once he did, he was happy.  He knew he was safe and in control of the choice to go forward or to go back.

“Dan is so different from Jim.  He is supportive and he trusts me and it feels like he is always there for me. He makes me laugh.  He makes me happy.  He is on the Sleepyside police force, and he really encourages me in my classes and my training.  He makes me feel smart and cared about.  And sometimes…”

“Sometimes…?”

♬Help me if you can, I'm feeling down

♬And I do appreciate you being 'round

♬Help me get my feet back on the ground

♬Won't you please, please help me

“Sometimes, it feels like there could be more.”