By SnorriKid
“Mommy,” eight-year old Owyn Frayne called, “Bryce is throwing potato balls at me!”
Owyn’s fraternal twin, Bryce Frayne, younger by eleven minutes, carefully molded a snowball sized mound of mashed potato and lobbed it at his brother’s freckled, bespectacled face.
Owyn ducked as the orb whizzed by and landed, splat on the kitchen’s TV screen obliterating Curious George and his vacuuming efforts.
“Mommy’ll get you for that Bryce!” Owyn bent to pick up his glasses that had fallen off when he avoided the speeding sphere.
“That’s for striking out today and losing the game,” Bryce chortled.
“You just wait,” Owyn warned, getting down from his chair and starting out of the room. As he managed to get behind his brother on the way out he grabbed Bryce’s shirt collar and forced a buttered roll down his brother’s bare back. “Take that you brat!”
Bryce jumped up and raced after his brother into the hallway that led to the upstairs where Owyn fled. Although both boys were equal in height Owyn outweighed Bryce by eleven pounds and moved slower. “You have no place to go.” Bryce tackled the bigger boy and down they fell against the carpeted stairs.
Their mother, Trixie Frayne, stood at the head of the stairs, akimbo. “Enough,” she admonished them, beginning her descent.
They dropped in their tracks and looked to her looming figure, poised over them. Her five month, eleven day pregnancy slowed her down yet she managed to lower herself to a stair step between them.
“Now what’s this argument all about, guys?” She smoothed her bulging belly.
“He started it. He lost our game today. Did not. Did, too.”
“One at a time, you two. Bryce, you start.” Trixie put an arm around each of her boys.
Bryce looked daggers at Owyn and directed his comments to his mother.
“The score was four to three, us Strikers behind. Cody fouled out, Damien flyed out and then Owyn struck out. Do you believe it?”
“I can’t see the ball, Mom,” Owyn said, pulling off his eyeglasses and squinting at her.
“You just need new glasses. That’s all,” Trixie said. “Now say you’re sorry to each other and finish your dinner.”
She herded them into the kitchen. “And no more food fights.
“Your dad and I are getting ready to celebrate our eleventh anniversary Saturday night. And I’m up to my armpits getting the nursery ready for your new sister the end of August. I’d really like to be done early and not have to worry about it at the last minute. I don’t need to be cleaning up your food fight messes. What I really need is for you two to get along and help me out here by not throwing your food around. Got it?”
They nodded.
Their red-headed father strode into the kitchen from his den, a frown on his handsome, freckled face.
“What is it, Jim? You appear to be looking for something?” His wife greeted him.
“I’m on a mission to find a check I wrote to the Hole in the Wall Gang and I can’t find it. Have any of you seen it?” He looked to each of his family members. “It’s important because it’s a sizeable sum. I don’t want word to get out that the Chairman of the Board misplaced eleven hundred dollars.”
“How much did you say, Dad?” Owyn asked, wrinkling his brow.
“Is there a reward for finding it?” Bryce wanted to know.
“You’ll recognize it when you see it and that’s reward enough,” he ruffled Owyn’s red curls and Bryce’s sandy crew cut.
“Ah, Dad,” Owyn whined, his green eyes intent on his dad’s face.
“I’ll find it for you, Dad,” Bryce said with a gleam in his blue eyes.
“Bet I can find it quicker than you can,” Owyn countered. “First one to find it get’s the Wii first for a month.”
“You’re on Bro,” Bryce agreed and they both raced out of the room.
Trixie collapsed into Bryce’s chair at the kitchen table and looked at her husband.
“Where did you last see the check, Jim?” she asked.
“I remember writing it at the desk in my den just yesterday. As I searched for an envelope, Honey stopped by. Then I got distracted with her project and now I can’t find it.” Jim shook his head.
“How frustrating for you,” his wife replied with empathy.
“Would you like me to look for it? Sometimes I see things you don’t.”
“Well, you’re right about that Shamus,” he teased her. “Go for it!”
“Just as soon as I clean up this kitchen mess,” Trixie told him.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Two hours later the kitchen looked a little better Trixie thought as she folded the dish towel and hung it up, inside the door under the sink. She sat in the padded rocking chair in a corner of her family’s Crabapple Farmhouse. She kicked off her loafers, relaxed into the comfortable motion of rocking and reflected on the day and upcoming events. Dr. Ferris’ calendar with a Nick Roberts’ drawing of crabapple trees in full bloom told her April was about over with. On Sunday, May first, she turned the big three oh. The very same day she and Jim would celebrate their eleventh wedding anniversary. They hadn’t planned anything big, just a quiet celebration here with family after a Saturday evening to themselves. She wanted to give Jim something special yet couldn’t decide just what. Maybe she would just make a banner wishing the most wonderful boy in the world a happy day.
Now she needed to tuck in the younger boys, perhaps read them a story, say prayers.
She heaved herself out of her seat and padded upstairs in bare feet. Bryce played a hand-held game and Owyn read a graphic book. Both boys, dressed for bed, sat with legs crossed under the covers.
“I like the looks of you two, being so good and quiet for a change,” Trixie complimented them.
They looked up and smiled. Owyn’s two front teeth had recently come in. Bryce’s set would catch up soon.
“Read to us from The Cave of the Blue Spirit?” Bryce asked. “I want to hear what happens next with that ghost thing. You believe in ghosts, Mom?”
Trixie picked up the book, opened to the book-mark and paused before reading. “The Bob-Whites once upon a time had an adventure exploring caves in the Ozarks and thought we saw a ghost. We were staying with your great-uncle Andrew. A woman named Mrs. Moore worked for him. She believed her husband, Mr. Moore, had died. She and her daughter believed Mr. Moore was a ghost who did kind, unseen things for them, like leave food on their doorstep and things like that. As it turned out, Mr. Moore wasn’t really dead and came home one day while we all were there.
“So, while I don’t believe in ghosts I think that people like Mrs. Moore who see ghosts, need something to hang on to while they are going through a rough time. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
Owyn nodded solemnly but Bryce shook his head.
“It’s like the sailor in your story here. The one who was drowning? He grabbed at whatever he could get a hold of. He imagined his dead friend held out a hand to him and when he got a hold of it, it turned out to be an oar from a drifting lifeboat.”
“Oh, yeah,” Bryce said, hanging on her every word. “I get it. He needed to be saved so bad that he grabbed whatever he could get a hold of.”
“Whether it would really help him or not,” Owyn finished.
“Whether it would really help him or not,” Owyn finished.
“You’ve got it!” Trixie told her sons. “Teeth all brushed? Faces washed?” She inspected their faces.
They showed her their toothy grins. They said their prayers before she started reading in case they fell asleep before she finished.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The next morning after Jim had walked up the hill to Ten Acres School and the boys had caught the bus to Sleepyside Elementary, Trixie began her search for the missing check. She started by going through Jim’s desk drawers in his den. Everything appeared neat and orderly. Files arranged alphabetically in order occupied the top right hand drawer. She opened the roll top of the oak desk and looked in the pigeon holes. Just normal everyday stuff, she mused. Then a list of items caught her attention. Written in Jim’s scribbled hand on a light green lined legal pad, she noticed eleven items.
1. soapie
2. h/b
3. G. C.
4. dic/the
5. pjs
6. cupie
7. sox
8. Julie
9. Arthur
10. pic
11. choc
This is most mysterious, thought Trixie. The phone jangled and interrupted her task.
“Frayne residence,” she answered.
“Just wanted to confirm, Trix, that we’ve got the twins for a sleep-over tomorrow night when you and Jim have your anniversary date.” Honey greeted her best friend.
“Thanks Honey. The boys will be delighted. They love coming to your house. We’ll drop them off early, as we planned.”
“Great. Little Bea wants to make dinner herself that night. She wants to surprise the twins with her own, nine year old talents. Hope their tummies are ready!”
“Thank you, sweet friend. Don’t worry about twin tummies. I swear they’re made of cast iron.” Trixie laughed and, as an aside, related the potato ball and buttered roll food fight from the previous night.
“Later. I have eleven million errands on my to-do list, today. You know how that is.” Honey chuckled.
Trixie laughed, too. “Yes! See you tomorrow, if not sooner.”
She had no luck with her witch hunt for the check and wandered back to the kitchen where she settled on a second cup of coffee and a piece of toast generously spread with butter and cinnamon sugar. Trixie looked at her own to-do list featuring her on-going chore of finishing the nursery. Not one to let any grass grow under her feet she rinsed her dishes and climbed the stairs to the nursery. At the nursery door, she studied her handy work.
Bobby’s old bedroom now sported a pink gingham theme. Twelve inch squares made up two of the four walls. Beginning at the top, every other column wore one pink square followed by a white square followed by another pink square. Every other square of the even numbered columns wore two coats of pink followed by a square with one coat of pink and so on. Trixie made a mental note about how Jim had helped her with the project. When she had first assessed the job to be done, she knew she could do it. Yet, when she started the project, it became a mathematical challenge. Knowing math not to be her strong suit she elicited Jim’s help. He walked her through it and voila! She completed the two walls in two days.
Today she only needed to finish the other two walls in a single coat of paint, applied by dabbing a sponge across the walls’ surface. By noon one wall wore a splotchy coat to Trixie’s satisfaction. Very whimsical, she thought and looked forward to completing the other wall after lunch.
On her way downstairs, she checked the den again for the missing check. This time she opened the closet where some of Jim’s jackets hung and stuck her hands in their pockets. No luck here, she thought. I must be losing my private eye talent.
After a quick lunch of an apple, orange and banana, she mounted the stairs once more. Within two hours she finished and stepped back again to review the results. Not bad, she whispered to herself. She cleaned up her mess. Later, she and Jim would put up the crib. Honey promised to make curtains for the room. Trixie looked forward to filling the closet with little girl clothes and bringing their new baby into the world. She smiled and felt a kick in her belly. “This child will be a soccer player for sure,” Trixie said aloud to herself.
Once more, she headed back downstairs and stopped by the den. This time when she sat at the desk she searched for the check book, itself. Jim usually paid the bills on line yet kept the check book available in a small drawer under the pigeon holes. The Hole in the Wall fund-raiser kept him busy. Trixie knew how much he loved the Gang kids and wanted to make a generous donation. If worst came to worst, he could cancel the check and write another one, she rationalized. Itemized in the register portion of the checkbook Trixie noted the amount of the check, its’ number and payee name. Looks all in order, she muttered. The next blank check followed the number of the HITW check Jim had evidently written.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Saturday night arrived and as they waved good-bye for the eleventh time to the boys, Trixie and Jim hurried on their way. They hadn’t told anyone they were just going to the Glen Road Inn. Jim had reserved a table for them. As they got out of the car Jim pulled from the trunk a huge colorful bag tied with green, red, yellow and blue streamers. Once seated, he presented it to Trixie and planted a wet kiss on her grin and said, “Happy Anniversary”!
They ordered a bottle of champagne. Before their dinner arrived, Jim encouraged Trixie to open the gifts within the sack. Trixie needed no further encouragement. Her eyes gleamed brightly as she opened eleven small gifts, each wrapped in anniversary paper of every design. Beginning with an old -fashioned soap dish, reminiscent of their trip to New York; a Wii download for horseback riding to take the place of actually riding Susie during Trixie’s pregnancy; a gift certificate to the Sleepyside Bookstore; a sexy blue negligee; a coupon for a night on the town in the City before baby girl Frayne’s birth day; eleven pairs of sox in wild, bold colors; a small dictionary and thesaurus set; a picture of Trixie and Susie set in a frame of rearing horses, and a box of assorted dark chocolates. With each gift she opened, Trixie squealed her delight.
“There are eleven presents,” Jim told her before she finished. “They each represent each year of our marriage. There are a couple of special ones at the bottom. I’d like to give them to you separately.”
He took the bag from her and reached down deep pulling out a very small and a medium sized gift.
“This one,” he said, presenting her with the smallest first, “is a symbol of our eleven years together.”
She tore off the wrapping and opened the jewelry box. Inside a small light lit up a ring with eleven tiny emeralds.
“Oh, Jim,” she breathed. “It’s absolutely beautiful.”
“I’m glad you like it,” he smiled. “And this one is actually a gift from Honey and me. “ He handed her the last gift. “When I told her what I was doing for our eleventh anniversary and that I needed another present, she told me she was working on this and wanted me to give it to you now.”
Trixie opened the package shaped like a book. Her eyes lit up as she opened a leather-bound copy of Munich Revisited, a Lucy Radcliffe Mystery, by Honey Belden. Trixie and Honey once dabbled in writing Lucy fan fiction a few years earlier as a lark. After Trixie gave up the hobby she hadn’t realized that Honey continued their earlier passion.
“Wow!” She leafed through the book. Inside the front cover she noticed a forward written by Mr. Appleton, the author of the Lucy Radcliffe books whom they had met a few years earlier. As she continued savoring a sentence here, a passage there, a piece of paper fluttered out from the pages and floated towards the floor. Jim bent to pick it up.
“Will wonders never cease?” He exclaimed. “It’s the Hole in the Wall check I misplaced.”
“Happy Anniversary,” Trixie toasted Jim, “to the most wonderful husband in the world.”
- A list (or series of lists) with 11 items - Jim's cryptic list of gifts to give Trixie for their anniversary
- Someone trying to think of a witty name and/or title for someone else - Trixie thinking about the most wonderful boy/husband in the world
- Someone writing previously written material from a new perspective - Honey's story, Munich Revisited, based on a previous Lucy Radcliffe book
- Spelunking and/or mention of caves - the twins' book their mother is reading to them has cave in the title
- An 11th anniversary of any kind - Trixie and Jim's 11th wedding anniversary
- The Hole in the Wall Gang (either the actual charity or use of the phrase) - a check for THITWG charity drive
- A banner with a meaningful message - Trixie thinking about posting her most wonderful husband banner
- A food fight - between the twins
- A ghost or suggestion of other unexplained/superstitious phenomena or someone who has returned from the dead - Bryce asking Trixie if she believed in ghosts
- Book: Anything with "Bob-White" or "Cave" in the title - The Cave of the Blue Spirit, the book Trixie reads to the twins
2,701 words
Disclaimer: Characters from the Trixie Belden series are the property of Random House. They are used without permission, although with a great deal of affection and respect.
Author's Note: This is the Jixemitri 11th Anniversary CWP, contains 2,701 words and is suitable for all audiences.
Disclaimer: Characters from the Trixie Belden series are the property of Random House. They are used without permission, although with a great deal of affection and respect.
Author's Note: This is the Jixemitri 11th Anniversary CWP, contains 2,701 words and is suitable for all audiences.
No comments:
Post a Comment