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The Mystery at Part
Three Author’s
notes: Previously,
the Bob-Whites had traveled to Davis, WV to stay at Blackwater Falls State
Park and Resort. On their way there, Trixie had an encounter with a
mysterious man wearing a plaid shirt. Schoolgirl Shamuses, Inc. is eager to
pick up another case, but Trixie is trying to keep her mysterious occurrence
a see-crud. The girls discovered some interesting numbers on a Trail Guide
for Blackwater Falls, and are eager to see if they have any significance.
Bright and early on Tuesday morning,
the girls walked downstairs to the restaurant in the lodge to meet the boys for
breakfast. However, only Mart and Dan were seated on the bench in the lobby. “I thought you
lazy squaws would never get here!” Mart told them impatiently. Honey glanced
hastily at her watch. “It’s just now “No, your watch is
slow,” Mart grumbled. Feigning weakness, he leaned against the back of the
bench and rubbed his empty stomach with a moan. “Where are Jim and
Brian?” Di questioned, noticing the two eldest members of their club were not
present. Dan looked up
sleepily from his seat beside Mart. “They’ll be down in a minute. I think
Mart’s groaning was getting on their nerves. They told us to go ahead without
them and find a seat in the restaurant.” “What’s Brian
doing?” Honey asked. Aware that she had appeared unconcerned about her
missing brother, she nervously added, “I mean, Brian
is so anal about being punctual that it’s kind of weird he’s late. He must be
doing something really important.” Mart snorted to
express his annoyance. “Brian was ironing. My venerable fraternal sibling has
an inexplicable penchant for felicitous vestments.” For once, Trixie
was in total agreement with her almost-twin, although she wasn’t quite sure
what he said. “That boy irons his blue jeans. He insists that his Dan suppressed a smile as he examined Trixie’s obviously
feigned nonchalant expression. “He was just getting in the shower.” “That’s a relief!”
Di exclaimed with a giggle. “I was afraid with this ‘no deodorant pact’ you
guys wouldn’t take a bath. At least you can wash some of the stink away.” Mart winked at
Diana, a mischievous grin on his face. “We want to teach you a lesson, not
kill you. Now let’s go eat.” “Maybe we should wait for Jim and Brian,”
Honey suggested thoughtfully. “They told us to go ahead,” Mart
insisted. “If I don’t get something to eat soon, I’m gonna
die from hunger.” “I seriously doubt
you’re ready to keel over,” Trixie commented with an exasperated roll of her
china blue eyes. “It won’t kill you to wait a few more minutes.” Mart leaned his
head back and clutched his heart, his breathing shallow. “Feeeling
faaaaaint…” Trixie purposely
ignored her slightly older brother. “It sure is a pretty day. I can’t wait to
go exploring.” “Groooowing weeeeaker…” Mart
gasped weakly. Trixie sighed in
exasperation, and then asked, “Where should we go fir---” “Loooosing coooonsciousneeess…”
Mart allowed his eyes to roll back in his head. Trixie scowled as
Honey and Diana began giggling. “We’d better find
a seat in the restaurant before Mart needs an ambulance,” Honey said with a
good-natured laugh. She grabbed one of Mart’s arms and hoisted him to his
feet. Di quickly clasped
his other arm, and with her free hand, she patted his stomach. “Poor baby.
Let’s get him inside and start an orange juice IV.” “Oh, brother,”
Trixie muttered, shaking her head in disapproval. Dan held open the
door to the restaurant as Honey and Di assisted Mart inside. After a quick,
longing glance back at the staircase, Trixie followed. “Mmm, mmmm!” Mart exclaimed as
he sniffed the air around him in the large dining room. He wiggled out of his
“helpers’ ” grips and rushed ahead to a large table near the buffet and salad
bar. “Aren’t you perky
all of a sudden?” Trixie teased. “I thought you were on your deathbed.” Mart nodded his
head in affirmation. “I was. However, the delectable aroma of these fine
victuals has rejuvenated my weary soul.” Honey’s
golden-brown eyebrows rose in amusement. “After all the pizza you ate for
dinner, I never thought you’d eat again.” “Our late-night swim burned up all
the extra calories I’d stored to help me survive till breakfast,” Mart
explained. “My stomach started growling at “Oh, Mart,” Trixie
scolded, plopping down in the seat across from him at the large oak dining
table. “Don’t exaggerate.” “He’s not,” Dan
informed her with a grin. “As his bedmate, I can verify that his stomach did growl at “Do we have to use
the word ‘bedmate’?” The lines of Mart’s forehead creased in consternation.
“I’d hate for that to be misinterpreted.” “How about ‘bed
buddy’?” Honey suggested with a giggle. “Or maybe ‘co-habiter’,” Di offered tartly. Mart shook his
head, a grimace distorting his handsome features. “You girls really know how
to ruin a fella’s appetite.” “Mart’s appetite
is ruined?” Jim asked as he and Brian joined the group. His russet hair was
still a little damp from his recent shower. He nonchalantly pulled out the
chair beside Trixie and sat down. “And what kind of
catastrophic event caused the Bottomless-Stainless-Steel-Stomach to lose its
will to eat?” Brian quirked a dark eyebrow as he looked at the three girls.
“And why do I have the feeling that you girls are behind the catastrophe?” “Hmph!” Trixie sniffed and flounced her curls in
irritation. “We get blamed for everything.” “Probably because
everything is your fault,” Mart
offered with a smirk. Expecting retaliation from his sister, he tucked his
feet underneath his seat, so they would be out of the line of fire. Since she couldn’t
kick him, Trixie stuck her tongue out at her middle brother. “Well, I’d say
skipping one meal won’t hurt my almost-twin. In fact, he should make an
effort to skip more of them. His jeans are getting a little tight in the
waist.” Mart squared his shoulders
in defiance. “They are not.” “Are too,” Trixie argued, a smile
wiggling mischievously at the corners of her mouth. “Are not!” Mart
shouted defensively. To prove his point, he stood and undid his belt buckle as
Dan began loudly humming the “Stripper” tune. “Martin Andrew
Belden!” Miss Trask scolded as she entered the dining room, dressed in a
crisp linen suit and sensible shoes. “What on earth are you doing?” “Just showing
Trixie that my pants aren’t too tight,” he replied sheepishly. “I guess I’ll
do it later.” “That would be a
wise decision,” Miss Trask said, her thin lips twitching in amusement. “I’m
sorry I’m late, children. I was on the phone with the realtor. Has everyone
else ordered?” Honey shook her
head. “No, we just got here. I think the waitress is coming over now.” Sure enough, a
young lady dressed in a white blouse and black slacks came over to their
table carrying a note pad. Everyone ordered their beverages and told the
waitress that they would be having the breakfast bar. Once the waitress left
to get their drinks, the group stood to walk over to the buffet. As Honey
began to rise from her seat, Trixie quickly grabbed her arm. “Wait,” Trixie
whispered, making sure the rest of their friends were already in line. Honey sat back
down and leaned closer to her impetuous friend. “What’s going on?” “I have an idea,”
Trixie told her quietly. “Are you wearing your watch?” Honey nodded and
held up her left arm to offer proof that the timepiece was on her wrist. “Of
course. I always wear it, Trixie. You should know that.” “Good!” Trixie
said excitedly. “That works out perfectly!” Honey pensively
cocked her head to one side and stared at her friend suspiciously. “What works out perfectly?” “You. Wearing your
watch.” Trixie hastily glanced over to make sure that everyone else was still
occupied. “That’s the expensive gold one, isn’t it? I forget.” “Ye-es,” Honey drawled out, suddenly becoming quite
suspicious of her Trixie’s intentions. “Why do you ask?” Trixie shrugged.
“I was just wondering. Didn’t you tell me that it was your mother’s or your
grandmother’s or something?” Honey nodded.
“Both. It originally belonged to my grandmother, who gave it to my mother,
who gave it to me. But why are you asking all these questions? I know you’re
up to something.” “Oh, I was
thinking that your watch is worth a bunch of money and that it means a lot to
you,” Trixie explained carefully, attempting to sound casual. “And you have lost it a couple of times. Remember
when it fell off in the preserve when Dan first came to Sleepyside?” “Yes,” Honey
answered, narrowing her hazel eyes. “And didn’t Rosie take it in “What’s your
point?” Honey studied her best friend, knowing that there was more to this
than Trixie’s concern for her family heirloom. “Well, we’re going
to be doing a lot of things outside. I’d hate for it to come unclasped. If
you lost it in a cave or something, you’d probably never find it.” Honey’s lips
twitched as she attempted to suppress a smile. “And?” Trixie assumed an
innocent expression. “And what?” “And how does this
fit into your plan of solving a mystery, Trixie Belden?” Honey prompted. Trixie sighed loudly.
“I wish you wouldn’t ask so many questions.” She had hoped her friend would
merely agree to her suggestion and not worry about the details until later. “Well, I wish you wouldn’t be so sneaky,” Honey cracked good-naturedly. “Now
spill it before I tell the boys you’re on the trail of another mystery.” Trixie glanced furtively at the
breakfast bar to make sure the male Bob-Whites were still heaping food onto
their plates. “I thought it would give us a good excuse to ask if the hotel
has a safe,” she admitted with a frown. “You could show your watch to the boy
at the front desk, explain that you’ve lost it before, and ask if the lodge
has a safe that you could keep it in.” “Why would I want
to put my watch in the hotel safe?” Trixie shook her
head in frustration. “Just to see if they have one. And if they DO have a safe, maybe we can figure
out a way to watch the desk clerk open it. I’m dying to know what the
combination is.” “Why?” Honey
widened her hazel eyes in feigned consternation, a hint of a smile tugging at
her lips. “Thinking of giving up the detective business for a life of crime?” “Of course not,”
Trixie muttered, exasperation etched on her features. “I just want to see if
the combination matches the numbers on the brochure we found.” “Oh,” Honey murmured thoughtfully,
obviously skeptical of Trixie’s plan. “Well, why don’t you use your watch?” Trixie snorted loudly. “Yeah, they’re
going to let me put a $15 watch from Wal-Mart in their safe.” “You never know,” Honey stalled. Trixie groaned loudly and clutched
her sandy curls in despair. “We’ve got
to use your watch, Hon! With those diamonds around the face, they’ll know it’s expensive.” “I’m just not sure this is a good
idea.” Honey nervously bit her lower lip as she mulled Trixie’s proposition.
“If we make Miss Trask mad, she may take us home early.” “Aw, come on,
Honey!” Trixie begged. “Miss Trask won’t find out. What can it hurt?” “How many times
have I heard that in the past
two-and-a-half years?” Honey queried with a giggle. “We’ll be
perfectly safe,” Trixie maintained defensively. “It’s not like we’d be
sneaking off in the middle of the night to some gangster hangout.” “Like you did at Cobbett’s Trixie scowled in
displeasure. “We’d only be going up to the front desk of the lodge.” “I suppose you’re right,” Honey
relented a bit hesitantly. When Trixie had her mind set on something, Honey
knew it was useless to argue. “It’s not like we’ll end up in a deserted
steamboat or anything.” “Oh, thank you,
Honey!” Trixie hugged her best friend impulsively. “You’re the best!” At that moment,
Mart plopped back down in his seat at the table, carefully balancing three
plates heaped high with food. “Negatory, dear
Beatrix. It’s a well-established fact that I am the best.” “The best at
what?” Trixie asked innocently. “Stuffing your face?” She stood up from the
table. “C’mon, Honey. Let’s get breakfast. If Mart left any for us, that is.”
After eating so much
that they could barely waddle away from the table, the teenagers milled
around the lobby discussing their plans for the day. Miss Trask had a meeting
with the realtor to look at the property Mr. Wheeler was considering, and
that would last most of the day. The Bob-Whites decided they would get their
cameras, and then meet in the lobby. Once they regrouped, they would go to
the Falls and explore some of the other trails around the resort. Trixie and Honey
puttered around in the lobby as Miss Trask left the lodge and the boys went
upstairs. “Aren’t you coming
to the room?” Di asked, confused as to why her
friends were staying in the lobby of the lodge. Trixie shook her
head. “Not right now,” she whispered. “We have to do something before we go
upstairs.” “What are we going
to do?” Di questioned in a low tone. Trixie shook her
head. “Not ‘we’ as in the three of us. ‘We’ as in just me and Honey.” Di’s expression
tightened, hurt evident on her pretty face. “Oh,” she mumbled before looking
away. “I understand.” Honey reached out and placed a gentle
hand on Di’s arm. “We’re going to show my wristwatch to the clerk at the
front desk and ask if the hotel has a safe that we can keep it in.” “Why?” Di inquired
a bit nervously. “Are you worried that the man in the plaid shirt will steal
it?” “No,” Trixie told
her. “We’re hoping the boy at the front desk will open the safe in front of
us. Then we can see if the combination matches the numbers you found on that
map.” Di’s eyes
brightened. “Oh! Can I come with you?” Trixie nervously
chewed on her lower lip. “I was hoping that you’d be willing to stand lookout
for us. We don’t want the boys to come downstairs while we’re talking to the
guy at the desk.” Although she
looked a bit disappointed, Di good-naturedly nodded her head in agreement.
“All right. I’ll keep the boys upstairs. Just let me know when you’ve
accomplished your mission.” “Thanks, Di!”
Trixie told her sincerely. Diana gave her a
“thumbs up” signal as she trotted up the stairs to delay the rest of the
group. Once she was out
of sight, Honey turned to Trixie. “You know, Trix, maybe we shouldn’t leave
Di out so much.” Trixie shrugged.
“Well, she doesn’t have any interest in detective stuff. I didn’t think she’d
want to come. And we do need
someone to keep the boys from coming downstairs.” “I know, but we
should still make an effort to ask her to help us,” Honey persisted, her brow
creased with worry. “I think it really hurts her feelings when we leave her
out.” “You’re right,
Hon,” Trixie agreed, hooking her arm through Honey’s. “I’d feel bad if you
and Di didn’t invite me to go shopping with you, even though I hate it. I’ll
try and do better.” “I know you will.”
Honey glanced over at the staircase leading to the second floor of the lodge.
“Think she’ll be able to keep the guys distracted?” A tart grin parted
Trixie’s lips. “If anyone can play the role of the femme fatale, it’s Diana
Lynch.” Honey quirked a
brow as she peeked over at the young man sitting at the front desk. “Maybe you
should’ve let the ‘femme fatale’ come with us. We might need her assistance.” “Why?” Trixie
asked with a wrinkle of her nose. “The boy at the desk looks harmless enough.
Besides, we’re just asking if the hotel has a safe, not distracting him so we
can crack it.” “Well, I was just
thinking that we may have to persuade the desk clerk to let us watch him open
it. He may not be allowed to have anyone watching.” “I never thought
of that,” Trixie confessed. The corners of her mouth drooped into a disappointed
smirk. “We may have to bring out the big guns.” “You’d threaten
him with a gun?” Honey’s mouth dropped open in surprise. Trixie gave her
sandy curls a saucy flip. “No, silly. I mean that we may have to do a little
flirting.” Honey cast a quick
glance in the direction of the boy who was manning the front desk, who looked
to be in his late teens. “You want us
to flirt with him? What if the boys
see us?” “They won’t see
us!” Trixie insisted in an annoyed tone. Honey looked back at the boy at the desk.
“His glasses take up half his face.” “He could always
get contact lenses,” Trixie assured her cheerfully. “He’s wearing a
pocket protector,” Honey added. “I’ve heard
they’re all the rage.” Honey wrinkled her
perfect nose in distaste. “He looks like Napoleon Dynamite.” “Oh, Honey!”
Trixie exclaimed. “It won’t kill us to give him a little attention. It’ll
probably make his day. He’ll be so glad to talk to some members of the
opposite sex that he’ll do anything we ask!” “Well, I’m not
wearing stockings or making him a martini,” Honey stated firmly, crossing her
arms in finality. “You won’t have to do that,” Trixie said with a giggle.
“I’m sure a few coy glances and a bit of eyelash fluttering will do the
trick.” “And I assume I
won’t be the only one fluttering my eyelashes?” Honey inquired archly. Trixie sighed
impatiently. “Of course not. I wouldn’t ask you to do something that I wasn’t
going to do myself.” Honey stepped back
and studied her friend carefully. “Trixie Belden, you’re seriously going to
flirt?” Trixie’s irritated
expression quickly turned to one of ire as she stuck her tongue out at her
co-detective. “What? Do you think I can’t flirt?” Honey giggled as
she studied her friend’s angry expression. “We-ell, if you’re going to be charming,
you might not want to look so… so mean. It kind of furrows your brow too much
and makes you look like you’re going to beat him up.” Trixie stuck her
tongue back in her mouth and pooched her lips in
what she perceived to be a sultry way. She lowered her lashes, and looked at
her friend through the slits. “Is this better?” she asked in a deep voice,
sounding more raspy than husky. “Sure, if you
think he’s turned on by a half-asleep, hollow-cheeked Jimmy Durante,” Honey giggled. “Hardy-har-har,” Trixie mumbled with a frown of defeat. “Aw, who
am I kidding, Hon? I’m no femme fatale.” “You’re just
trying too hard,” Honey informed her gently. “Just be natural.” Trixie nodded
slightly. After a moment of thought, she widened her eyes, ran her tongue
over her lips, and heaved out her chest. “How’s this?” she asked in a velvety
voice. “Now you look like
a porn star,” Honey complained. “OK, how about
this?” Trixie pursed her lips in a thin-lipped smile and kept her eyes from
batting. Honey exhaled
loudly in exasperation. “Now you look like a whacked-out, evil dime store Cupie doll that’s going to kill people while they sleep.”
“Wait!” Trixie
pleaded. “How about I---” Honey merely shook
her head in despair. “How about you
do the explaining, and leave the flirting to me?”
Trixie and Honey
waited patiently by the front desk of the lodge as the young man who was
attending it pored over a comic book. The girls looked at each other
expectantly, wondering when their presence would be acknowledged. After a few
minutes, Trixie nervously cleared her throat. The desk attendant remained
slumped over his magazine, flipping through the pages. With a roll of her
eyes, Trixie leaned over the window and bellowed, “Excuse me! We need some
help.” Startled, the
young man’s comic book fluttered to the ground as he jumped up in his seat.
He looked up at the girls, an annoyed scowl on his face; however, once he saw
Trixie and Honey, his scowl turned into an eager smile. “Do you need
something?” he asked, nervously running a bony hand through his nappy,
muddy-brown curls. His voice sounded odd, much like it would sound if someone
had a stopped up nose. Trixie and Honey
exchanged an apprehensive look, each hoping the other would take the
initiative. “Umm… yeah,” Trixie stammered,
breaking the awkward silence. “We’re staying here at the resort.” The boy nodded,
an amused expression on his pimpled face. “I kinda
figured you were.” “I’m Trixie Belden, and this is my
best friend, Honey Wheeler,” Trixie explained. “We’re from Honey flashed her best 100-watt smile
and batted her long, golden-brown lashes at the desk clerk. “I’m Kevin Ferguson, and I’m from
here.” He placed his comic book down on the desk and leaned closer to the
girls. “Did you need something, or did you just want to meet me? A lotta girls wanna talk to me and stuff. I’m used to it.” Honey choked at the intimation, but
quickly recovered. “We have a question.” Kevin’s gaze traveled leisurely over
Honey’s slim figure, making her cringe in embarrassment. Since this
was Trixie’s lame-brained idea, she thought, she can talk to him! “Trixie,” Honey said out loud, “I
thought you were going to ask for me.” “Sure.” Trixie gulped as Kevin’s
beady eyes turned to her. “It’s just that Honey has an expensive watch that
her grandma gave her. Actually, her grandma gave the watch to Honey’s mom,
who gave it to Honey, but you know what I mean.” Kevin stared blankly at her. “Do you
like to dance?” Taken aback by the abrupt change of
conversation, Trixie narrowed her blue eyes at him. “Uhh…mmm…
Ye… I mean, no… I mean… About this
watch. It’s a family heirloom.” “I’m a really good dancer.” Kevin
folded his arms in front of his chest, a smug expression on his face. “Want
me to come out there and do the Moonwalk for you?” Thoroughly disgusted, Trixie hastily
clasped Honey’s left hand and held it up as a visual for her forthcoming
lecture. “This is the watch. It’s really old and worth a whole bunch of
money. And even though it’s outrageously expensive, the safety clasp doesn’t
always work, and Honey’s afraid of losing it. Aren’t you, Honey?” When her cohort remained silent,
Trixie turned her head slightly in Honey’s direction and repeated pointedly, “Aren’t you, Honey?” Honey nodded meekly. “Yes, I’m afraid
of losing it.” “Do you have a boyfriend?” Kevin
asked matter-of-factly, completely oblivious to the girls’ dislike of him. Trixie’s eyebrows drew together in a
puzzled crease. “Why does that
matter?” Kevin leaned back in his chair,
crossed one lanky leg over his other thigh, and puffed out his scrawny chest.
“I was just curious. So, do you have a boyfriend or not?” “Yes, and he’s terribly jealous,”
Trixie lied, her voice testy. “He’s upstairs right now flexing his huge muscles.
But about this watch…” “I’ve lost it twice before,” Honey
jumped in, hoping to divert his attention from Trixie to her wristwatch.
“We’re going hiking later, and I’d hate for it to fall off. Do you have a
safe here that I could keep it in?” Kevin’s bushy eyebrows knotted
together. “A safe?” “Yeah,” Trixie said with an eager
nod. “Does the hotel have a safe to keep guests’ valuables in?” Kevin shook his head. “Nah, I don’t
think so. But I have an empty can under my desk.” He reached under his desk
and pulled out an old, ratty peanut can and offered it to the girls. “Do you
want me to put your watch in here?” “No, that’s okay,” Honey replied. “Are you sure?” Kevin questioned. “I
could dump out the rest of the peanuts and the clumps of salt.” Honey shook her head as she carefully
chose her words. “Thank you for offering, but I’d worry someone would see my
watch in the can and take it.” “I could keep it at my house,” Kevin
suggested. “I’m sure it would be safe there. I’ve been working out, you
know. I could use my ninja skills on
any burglar that might try to snatch it.” “Thanks, but Honey can just lock it
up in her suitcase,” Trixie mumbled in disappointment. She tugged on Honey’s
arm. “C’mon, Hon. Let’s get the rest of the gang.” The two girls walked over to the
staircase as Kevin watched them wistfully. “Well, so much for that idea,” Trixie
muttered as they climbed the steps leading to the second floor of the lodge. “We’ll think of something,” Honey
said, giving her friend an encouraging hug. “Look on the bright side. At
least you made a new friend. And you didn’t even have to flirt.” “You were the one he was ogling,”
Trixie pointed out with a giggle. “True, but he didn’t ask me if I had a
boyfriend.” Honey pursed her lips thoughtfully. “By the way, Trixie, who is your boyfriend?” “My boyfriend?” Trixie echoed. Once
she put two and two together, she narrowed her eyes in a threatening manner. “Yes,” Honey affirmed with a bright
smile. “You told Kevin your boyfriend was upstairs flexing his muscles, and I
was just curious if there was something you weren’t telling me. Maybe I
should go ask Jim what’s going on.” Trixie scowled as her honey-haired
friend giggled uproariously.
Finding their room empty, Trixie and
Honey walked across the hall and knocked on the boys’ door. After a moment,
Dan opened it for them. “Hey,” he greeted as he stepped aside
so they could come inside. “C’mon in.” Mart, Brian, and Jim were standing
around Di, their heads bent as they studied something. “Whatcha doin’?” Trixie asked. She plopped down on the foot of the
bed nearest the group. “Trying to fix Di’s camera,” Jim
mumbled as he inspected the object in his hands. “Is it broken?” Honey inquired,
claiming the spot beside Trixie. “Mmm-hmmm,”
Brian murmured as he stared at the Canon. “When you click the button, nothing
happens.” Mart hastily snatched the camera out
of Jim’s hands. “Let me see it.” “You’ve looked at it twenty times
already,” Jim said with a sigh of exasperation as he ran his fingers though
his russet hair. “Do you think it’s just going to start talking and tell you
why it won’t work?” Mart’s mouth pinched in irritation as
he examined the 35mm camera. “That would
be nice,” he muttered. “I told you it’s the flash,” Dan told
them as he yanked the small object out of Mart’s hands. “It’s not the flash,” Brian disagreed
with a frown. “The camera looks pretty old. Maybe it just died a natural
death.” Di took her camera from Dan. “Let’s
not worry about it now. I have an extra one in my suitcase. Trixie, Honey,
and I will meet you boys downstairs in the lobby in five minutes.” Disappointed that they could not
repair Di’s camera, the boys led the way out of their room; except for
muttering an occasional apology for not being able to help, they were quiet.
As they walked downstairs, the girls opened the door to their room. “That really sucks about your camera,
Di,” Trixie said. “I wonder what’s wrong with it.” With a sly smile, Di reached into the
pocket of her silver-gray windbreaker. “Well, it might help if these were in it.” She stretched out
her arm and opened her clasped hand. Inside were two AA batteries. Honey’s hazel eyes widened as she
looked at Di with wonder. “Di, I know people tease you about being an
airhead, but you’re one of the smartest people I’ve ever met.” “One of the sneakiest, too,” Di added
with a wink. “No better way to keep the boys occupied than play up to their
manly egos.” Honey shook her head. “I’m always
impressed when you and Trixie show your devious side.” She sighed a bit
wistfully, and then added, “I need to get one of those.” Trixie laughed as she gave her friend
a friendly hug. “Oh, Hon, we love you just the way you are.” “Trixie’s right. You’re perfectly
perfect, Honey Wheeler,” Di chimed in as she squeezed Honey’s hand. “Now,
since I was busy keeping the boys occupied while you talked to the desk
clerk, how about you catch me up?” With a slight frown of
disappointment, Trixie proceeded to tell Di what had happened with the desk
clerk, making sure to leave out all the embarrassing details.
Miss Trask had made arrangements with
the resort to provide transportation for the Bob-Whites. After a quick call
to the front desk, the group was assured a van and driver would be waiting
for them outside the entrance of the lodge in ten minutes. After the teenagers had gotten their
cameras and trail guides, they walked downstairs and exited the resort.
Trixie and Honey made sure to hide behind the boys as they walked past the
front desk, but thankfully Kevin was too absorbed in his comic book to
notice. True to Kevin’s word, a small white
bus with the resort’s logo painted on the side was parked by the entrance. A
tall, lanky man, who looked to be in his early 40’s, leaned against the
vehicle. He wore a dark green polo shirt that had the resort’s logo
embroidered on the pocket, and a golf hat was tilted slightly over one eye. “Greetings and salutations!” he
called to the group with a crisp British accent. He pulled the black golf hat
from his head and bowed gallantly. “My name is Jonathan Darling, and I shall
be your chauffeur during your sojourn here at With a giggle, Di returned his bow
with a prim curtsey. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Darling.” “Call me English Jon,” he corrected, a broad grin on his weathered face. “That’s
what all the Yanks here call me.” “English Jon?” Mart repeated, his
sandy brows raised in query. “Why do they call you
that?” “Very easy to explain, lad,” English
Jon said. “It seems there are several other Jonathans employed here at the
lodge. There is John the chef, John the evening desk clerk, and John the
other van driver. To make our situation less perplexing, my comrades bestowed
the ‘English Jon’ moniker upon me.” Dan nodded thoughtfully. “English
Jon. Sounds kinda cool.” “Yes, it is a grand name, isn’t it?”
The driver placed his black golf hat back on his head. In spite of his lanky
form, it was with great grace that he stepped aside and made a sweeping
motion towards the passenger door of the small bus. “Please make yourselves
comfortable.”
The Bob-Whites climbed aboard the vehicle and quickly found seats.
Once they all had their seatbelts buckled, English Jon turned the bus around
and pulled out of the lodge’s parking lot. “Where shall I drive first?” English
Jon inquired, looking up at the group in the rearview mirror. “To the Falls,” Trixie piped up from
her seat near the back. “Is that the general consensus of the
entire group, or shall we take a vote?” English Jon teased. “That’s the general consensus,”
Trixie affirmed with a scowl. A snicker coming from her almost-twin’s
direction in the seat in front of her caught her attention. Rolling up the
map guide she had in her hand, she leaned over the seat and whacked him on
the head with it. “Hey!” Mart yelped, covering his
short blond curls with his hands in defense. “What was that for?” “I heard that snicker,” Trixie
hissed. “Why are you being so snotty?” “Same reason you’re being so bossy,”
Mart retorted. “It’s part of my charm.” Trixie leaned back in her seat. She
crossed her arms and pouted, determined not to say another word until the bus
stopped at the Falls. Thankfully for her, the trip was short and she only had
to maintain her pact of silence for five minutes. English Jon eased the van into a
parking spot on the lot, which was located beside a large brown souvenir
shop. “Here we are,” he called back to the group as he opened the door. With
great agility, he hopped down the steps of the bus and stood outside as the
Bob-Whites exited. “Where are the
Falls?” Honey questioned once she was standing on the parking lot. “Follow that
trail,” English Jon instructed, pointing to a sign. “Will we have to
do any climbing?” Di questioned, looking down hesitantly at her sandals. “I told you to wear your tennis
shoes,” Brian replied in the tone he used to lecture Bobby. “You’ll be fine, miss,” English Jon said with a kind
smile. “Several years ago when Blackwater Falls became a tourist spot, a
boardwalk was built along the path to making hiking to the overlook easier
and less dangerous.” “I like hiking in dangerous places,”
Trixie interjected snippily. “The park offers
over twenty miles of hiking trails of varying difficulty,” English Jon
informed them. “I’m sure you’ll find one to your liking. However, since
people of all ages and abilities want to see the Falls, they tried to keep this trail moderately easy.” “Yeah, Beatrix,” Mart crowed, poking his sister in the arm
with his elbow. “Not everybody is as sturdy as you.” “What about people
in wheelchairs?” Honey asked. “There is a gentle
trail for the handicapped or for those with little ones in prams,” English
Jon explained. “Thanks for all
your information,” Jim said. “I guess you’ll be here when we get back?” “Of course. If I’m
not in the bus, I shall be chatting with one of the girls in the Trading
Post,” English Jon answered with a wink.
The walk through the forest down to the
Falls’ overlook was beautiful. It was obviously springtime in Once the group had made their way to
the end of the trail, they stood on the large wooden overlook admiring the
beauty of God’s creation. The teenagers stood in awe-stricken silence while
they gazed at the wooded canyon where the
The large waterfall almost seemed out
of place in the woodland setting. The green leaves of the hemlocks and red
spruces perfectly complemented the cascading falls, almost as if the trees
were nature’s picture frame. The amber-colored water dropped down several
stories to the river, where it traveled through a winding, eight-mile gorge.
The water in the ravine below appeared almost black, giving the The teenagers excitedly took pictures
from different angles, wanting to capture on film all the wonder around them.
With another group of tourists coming down the path, the Bob-Whites decided
it was time to move on. Reluctantly, they began the trek back to the main
road.
The heat had risen considerably since
that morning. Though it was only a “I wonder if Miss Trask is waiting
for us at the lodge,” Trixie commented offhandedly. Brian turned around to face his
little sister, his right eyebrow quirked in bemusement. “Since when did you start worrying about keeping
people waiting?” Trixie cast a murderous glare at her
oldest sibling. “I’m not a total
barbarian, Brian.” “Beatrix, I do not mean to be officious,”
Mart declared grandly. “However, I feel constrained to concur that our eldest
kinsman’s claims of your solecistic miens are, as
our European hail-fellows say, comme il faut.” Trixie groaned loudly. “Great.
Butchering one language isn’t enough for my almost-twin. Now he’s got to
babble in Spanish.” “I hate to contradict you, dear
Beatrix,” Mart began with a mischievous grin, “but the language I am
supposedly ‘butchering’ is French, not Spanish.” “What’s the difference?” Trixie
snapped, quickly losing her patience with her smart-mouthed sibling. Mart assumed a scholarly expression.
“Quite a bit, depending upon which region of Trixie threw her hands up in frustration and
looked around at the other Bob-Whites. “Isn’t anyone else concerned about
Miss Trask? She could be waiting in the lodge all by herself, worrying that we’ve
fallen off a mountain or something, while we’re listening to Mart ramble
about the French words he’s picked up on while watching the Food Network.” “Miss Trask will be spending the
entire day with the realtor, Trix,” Jim assured her. “She isn’t expecting us
until later this evening.” “Fine,” Trixie mumbled. “But don’t
blame me when she gets mad and takes us home early.” Before any more comments were made,
Honey decided to change the subject. “Hey, I wonder where we should go next.” “I’d like to go to the caverns,” Dan
suggested. “They’re not far from here.” “Can’t we stay around the lodge?”
Trixie asked hopefully. “We’ve only got a few days to see
everything,” Brian said. “If we sit around in our rooms we won’t have time to
take in the sights.” Trixie merely exhaled noisily. “Ick,” Di
mumbled in disgust. With the back of her hand, she wiped a bead of
perspiration from her forehead. “I hate
to sweat.” “Don’t you mean perspire?” Dan devilled. “Our rooms are air-conditioned,”
Trixie pointed out. “Maybe we could go cool off a little while before we go
to the caverns.” “Trix, the van has air-conditioning
too,” Jim answered with a smile. Trixie crossed her arms huffily, her
eyes hardened into blue ice chips. “Fine, we’ll go to the caves.” Di waved a slender hand in front of
her flushed face to create some air movement. “Why couldn’t the park people
make an elevator or something to take us down to the Falls and then bring us
back up?” “Gee, Di, don’t you think that might
ruin the woodland effect they’re going for?” Jim asked with a chuckle. Di rolled her eyes to express her
exasperation. In hopes a cool breeze would provide some relief from the heat,
she lifted her thick blue-black hair off her shoulders. “Well, an escalator wouldn’t look bad. They
could hang vines or flowers on it for you nature freaks.” “It won’t be much longer until we’re
back at the bus, Di,” Honey assured her. “Yeah, so quit whining,” Trixie added
in an irritated tone. “Gee whiz, Di. You can be such a baby.” Mart took that opportunity to
“accidentally” catch the heel of Trixie’s right tennis shoe with his foot. “Oooph!”
she gasped as she lowered her hand to keep from falling on her face. Mart grasped his sister’s arm to help
her stand, an angelic smile plastered to his face. “Sorry, Beatrix.” “No problem, Martin,” Trixie muttered, tossing a scowl over her shoulder at
her almost-twin. She dusted off her bare knees, and the group continued
walking up the trail. Jim took Trixie’s hand and leaned
down closer to her. “You deserved that, you know,” he whispered to her,
making sure to keep his tone gentle. “I know you have some secret agenda that
we’re not following, but that’s no excuse for snapping at Di.” Trixie sighed unhappily. Though it
was difficult to admit, even to herself, she knew
Jim was right and only trying to help. Di, still miffed with Trixie for her
earlier comment, elevated her chin proudly. “I can’t help it that I’m not as
hardy as you, Trixie. I didn’t have older brothers who took me out to play in
the woods. I wasn’t even allowed to play in the yard of our apartment
building. Mummy was afraid of our neighbors on “I’m sorry, Di,” Trixie mumbled. “I’m
just worried about something, and I took it out on you. Gripe all you want
about being sweaty. I deserve it.” “Well, you’re griping because you want to go back to the lodge,” Di
countered. “I said
I’m sorry,” Trixie retorted. “I told you to gripe about the heat all you
wanted.” “I’m not just griping because I’m sweaty,” Di clipped testily. “I also have a blister on my heel and
it’s really stinging.” |
