Philadelphia Phabulous Phour
(a.k.a. Kyrie, Sue, Kate, and Dana)
Based on a True Story (although names of the “innocent” have been changed)
Notes from one of the inebriated authors: This story is what you get when you take four crazed Trixie fans, give all but one of them some “beverages,” lock them in a hotel room with a balcony overlooking a sidewalk café, and keep them up all night laughing hysterically. Around 3 a.m. it will seem like a very good idea to get out a pen, borrow paper from Sue, and have a group writing project—based on something that happened to one of them in college. I’m not saying whom, but the event happened at Michigan State. Standard disclaimers apply—I promise none of us made any money off of this story—we love and respect Trix and her friends dearly.
The party was in full swing when it happened. Trix had just turned to Dan to comment what a great party Tad Webster was finally throwing, when all of a sudden Tad himself appeared. Honey was the first to notice Tad’s ashen face.
“Tad? What’s wrong?” Honey’s concerned words brought the attention of the Bob-Whites to the distraught boy standing at the top of the basement stairs.
The younger brother of Spider Webster, a local cop, stood dumbfounded, obviously trying to comprehend Honey’s words.
Trixie nudged Jim. “There’s something mysterious about Tad’s behavior, don’t you think?”
Overhearing Trixie’s words, Mart Belden couldn’t resist opening his big mouth and a dictionary poured forth. “Methinks our distaff sibling perchance upon this occasion – “
“Shut up, Mart,” Hallie drawled, her blackberry eyes snapping with excitement. “What’s up Tad?”
Tad seemed to regain his voice then. “Spider…”
“What’s wrong with Spider, Tad?” Brian, the oldest Belden sibling, recognized the signs of shock due to his advanced medical knowledge. The seventeen-year-old had dreamed of becoming a doctor ever since he had taken Miss Bennett’s eighth grade science class. Only during the near-tragic incident involving his cyanide poisoning had Brian wavered from this goal. Apparently, Brian’s advanced medical knowledge did not include knowing to avoid Loyola’s deadly Waldorf concoction.
It was speculated that Loyola Kevins, Brian’s former lab partner, had developed a poisonous salad recipe to eliminate her rival for a chemistry scholarship. Upon later investigation, it turned out that Moms, despite her vast knowledge of canning, had produced a botulism-contaminated batch of tomatoes. Although she loved her mother, Trixie secretly speculated that Moms would rather take out her first born child, paragon of responsibility though he was, than suffer the cost of medical school.
None of this was on the Bob-White’s minds though as they watched Tad go through what appeared to be a horrendous panic attack of biblical proportions.
“Gleeps, gang! Maybe we should call a responsible adult,” Jim, known for his honorable attributes, spoke up. Jim Frayne had been hunting and scavenging for food not so long ago while on the run from his evil step-father Jonesy. Trixie and Honey, after finding him not once, but twice, had convinced Honey’s wealthy parents to adopt him. The heir to half a million dollars, he had adjusted well to life at the Manor House and was well-respected by the Bob-Whites.
Dark, brooding Dan Mangan, the newest member of the group, had that irresistible “bad boy turned good” charm that girls found exciting. A former member of a New York City street gang, inexplicably and laughably named the Cowhands, Dan had been brought to Sleepyside by his dead mother’s brother, Bill Regan. Regan, often seen with his big, freckled hands on his hips, was the Wheeler’s red-headed groom. The Beldens especially liked him because, even though he ran a strict stable, the pleasant faced groom entertained the youngest Belden, forever-six Bobby (of the blond, silky curls and endless cries of “HOLP! Read me Peter Rabbit!”), with his endless supply of red tissue paper. Dan’s uncle was far from his mind as he sized up the present situation.
“I saw a guy react like this once when I was living on the streets. It didn’t end well,” Dan turned to Jim, a sober look on his handsome face. “I don’t want to have to dump another body in the dumpster before the cops come.”
Jim smiled weakly, never knowing if Dan was kidding or not.
Di, well known as the prettiest girl in school, always wore lavender to accentuate her violet eyes and shiny blue-black hair. “As much as I love non-sequiters, let’s let Tad talk."
The Bob-Whites looked at Tad expectantly. “Tad, you know that our semi-secret club, the Bob-Whites of the Glen, was formed to help people.”
Brian spoke up then. “And while we’re on the subject, Honey, I think it’s great that you work mending for my mom and that Di earns her dues by baby-sitting her two sets of younger twin brothers and sisters, despite the wealth of both your families.”
“And Jim, counseling at boys camp after boys camp after boys camp, with half a million in the bank,” Mart added.
“Well, it gives him needed experience for when he opens his own year-round camp for underprivileged, orphaned, and run-away boys,” Trixie put in loyally.
“But we do have some swell things,” Jim put in to change the subject before the others realized he was blushing to the roots of his red hair.
Honey, queen of tact and noticing Jim’s discomfort at Trixie’s complement, nodded emphatically. “Like our station wagon and the clubhouse.”
Di spoke up then. “Do you remember when Trixie investigated my false uncle and Celia and Tom tried to steal our clubhouse?”
The collected Bob-Whites reminisced about how the Wheelers’ maid and chauffeur needed a place to live on the Wheeler property after they got married. Luckily, Trixie had solved the mystery of Di's false uncle, and Di’s father gave her their deluxe motor home, the Robin. Trixie had only been too happy to trade the motor home for the old gatehouse that they were fixing up to be their clubhouse. Suddenly, Trixie remembered what had sent them off on this tangent to begin with.
“So, Tad, if there’s something on your mind, please tell us,” Trixie pleaded.
Tad had lost his dazed look and was staring at the Bob-Whites, unable to believe they were reminiscing at a time like this. “Spider’s favorite sock is missing.”
To be continued (maybe)...
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Story copyright © The Philadelphia Phabulous Phour