Mystery in Arizona (3 page)

All the way home she stared unseeingly out of the window. When the bus lumbered to a stop at the foot of their driveway, she and her brothers climbed out.

Bobby, whose bus arrived a few minutes before theirs, was waiting beside the mailbox. He had entered the first grade that fall and was very proud of the knowledge he acquired daily.

“Guess what!” he exclaimed without any preliminaries. “I can write a letter. I can write over the whole paper and draw pictures on it, too.”

“How smart of you!” Trixie dumped her books and gathered the plump little boy into her arms.

“I put big houses on mine,” Bobby continued. “Big ones like skystapers!”

Trixie shook with silent laughter. “You mean sky
scrapers
, Bobby. Buildings that are so tall they seem to scrape the sky.”

Bobby pulled away from her. “You don’t know nothin’, Trixie.” He appealed to his older brothers. “Does she?”

Brian chuckled. “She knows enough to correct
your
mistakes, Bobby.”

Trixie gathered up her books, trying hard to keep back the tears which were burning behind her eyes. Slowly she trudged up the driveway behind her brothers. Bobby was right. She was stupid. Oh, why hadn’t she studied?

Indoors, she hurried straight to her room and began to work on her math problems. In a few minutes Mart tapped on the door and poked his head inside.

“Brian and I,” he said, “have parental permission to depart on Monday. And Honey just phoned to say that it’s all set so far as she and Jim are concerned.”

“Don’t rub it in,” Trixie moaned. “Did Moms and Dad say anything about me?”

He shook his head and disappeared.

Trixie kept on working until it was time to set the table for supper. Then she joined her mother in the kitchen.

“Your father and I have been discussing the Arizona trip, dear,” Mrs. Belden told her.

“Oh, I know I can’t go,” Trixie exploded. “I’ve got
to stay home and cram for the midyears. Don’t let’s talk about it, Moms. Please.”

Trixie’s young, pretty mother laughed. “I felt that you should stay home, too, but the men in this family are all for your going. Dad thinks it will be a very broadening, educational experience which you shouldn’t miss. The boys insist that you can study out there as well as you can here. Better, in fact, because Brian and Jim are going to tutor you.”

Trixie could hardly believe her ears. “Th-then I—I c-can go?” she stuttered.

Mrs. Belden nodded. “Only on the condition that you spend time every day doing the assignments Brian and Jim will give you.”

“I will, I will,” Trixie shouted, throwing her arms around her mother’s neck. “Oh, Moms, you’re the most wonderful mother any girl ever had!” She dashed off to telephone the good news to Honey.

“It’s great,” Honey agreed. “But we’ve got lots of shopping to do tomorrow. Miss Trask says she’ll drive us to Peekskill. There’s a big store there where we can buy all the dude ranch clothes we’ll need. Can you leave right after breakfast?”

“Oh, yes!” Trixie cried, and hung up.

In the days when Honey had been a “poor little rich
girl” Miss Trask had been her governess. Now with the help of Regan, the friendly groom, Miss Trask ran the whole huge Wheeler estate.

As Trixie set the table for supper she told her mother about the shopping plans. “Is it all right if I go along?” she asked.

“Of course,” Mrs. Belden replied. “You’ve plenty of jeans and T-shirts and sweaters and skirts, thank goodness. But you’ll need two pretty frocks to wear in the evening. I’m afraid that’s all we can afford, dear.”

“One will be plenty,” Trixie said with a laugh. “I hate to get all dressed up.”

But that evening when she went to bed she began to worry. Di and Honey would be able to buy plenty of expensive dude ranch clothes. Would she, Trixie, stick out like a sore thumb if she didn’t wear things like real cowboy boots and a ten-gallon Stetson hat?

Di’s father, who had recently become a millionaire, had already announced that he intended to pay for the plane tickets, and while they were in Tucson they would be the guests of Di’s uncle. So there would be no expenses connected with that part of the trip. But clothes were something Trixie hadn’t thought about until Honey brought up the subject.

“Well, there’s no sense in worrying,” Trixie finally decided, and fell asleep.

The next morning Honey settled the matter right away. “Daddy has given me a big check,” she said, “so we can buy everything we need. You’re not to spend a cent. It’s his Christmas present to us.”

“Oh, I can’t accept it,” Trixie cried. “Moms and Dad would have a fit.”

“No, they won’t,” Miss Trask said with a smile. “Mr. Wheeler talked to your father while you were on your way up here. Mr. Belden finally agreed that you should accept the gift.”

Trixie grinned. “What a relief! Your dad is a regular Santa Claus, Honey, and I’ll never be able to thank him enough.”

And when they returned from the shopping trip late that afternoon, Trixie felt as though she had really been visited by Santa. She donned her beautifully decorated cowboy boots immediately and began to practice walking in high heels.

Mart hooted with laughter. “You look like you’re walking on stilts.”

“That’s how I feel,” Trixie informed him. And then she gasped, pointing to the window. “Oh, look! It’s beginning to snow!”

Mart peered through the dining-room window. Already the terrace was covered with a powdery whiteness. “Gleeps,” he groaned, “it looks like the beginning of a blizzard!”

They stared at each other, hardly daring to speak. If it really was the beginning of a blizzard that might last for days, the flight would be canceled. That night the snow-laden wind as it howled around the chimneys seemed to be laughing derisively. All day Sunday the snow fell in steady, slanting sheets.

Only Bobby was happy about it. “A lizard, a lizard,” he kept shouting. “I ’dore lizards.”

“It’s the lizard to end all lizards,” Mart agreed as he and Brian came into the kitchen after shoveling the terrace and back steps for the third time.

“We might as well unpack our suitcases,” Trixie said dolefully. “I always did think it was too good to be true.”

“Don’t be a Calamity Jane,” Brian ordered. “I have a feeling that it’ll stop snowing before midnight.”

But Trixie knew better. The flight would be canceled. Mr. Lynch would leave for the Coast by train. And that would be the end of their dream of a Christmas in Arizona!

When Trixie awoke the next morning she felt sure that she must be dreaming. It was still as dark as night outside her bedroom windows but somebody close by was singing, very off-key:

Trixie scrambled out of bed and dashed out into the hall where she collided with Mart. “Don’t tell me it’s good flying weather?” she asked breathlessly.

For answer he changed his tune:

“Never mind,” Trixie interrupted. “There’s no sense
in singing western songs while we’re still here in Westchester County. I don’t dare look out of the window. Just answer me Yes or No,
is it good flying weather?
”

Mart made a fist out of his right hand and tapped her lightly on the jaw. “Strike the tepees, squaw. We hit the trail for the airport in half an hour.”

Trixie dressed as fast as she could, finished packing her suitcase, and, with it bumping behind her, dashed downstairs to the dining-room.

“Blueberry pancakes for breakfast,” Mrs. Belden announced cheerfully. “It’s the nearest I could get to flapjacks.”

“My favorite food,” Trixie wailed, “but I’m too excited to eat a thing.”

“That will be the day,” said Brian handing her a plate heaped high. “Maple syrup, jam, or brown sugar?”

Bobby appeared then in full cowboy regalia complete with two toy six-guns. “I’ve ’cided to go, too,” he said solemnly. And with determination he added, “I
haf
to go.”

Mr. Belden lifted him into his chair. “No sir-ree. You
haf to
stay with us. Your mother and I would die of loneliness if all of our children left us.”

“Don’t care,” Bobby said stormily.

“Think about poor Santa Claus,” Trixie said quickly. “If you go with us there won’t be anybody here to hang up his stocking on Christmas Eve.”

Bobby immediately brightened. “I’ll hang up all the stockings,” he said, counting on his fat fingers. “One, two, free, four.…”

Suddenly Trixie was overcome by a premature attack of homesickness. What would Christmas Eve and Christmas Day be like in a strange, faraway state? When you were a guest at a dude ranch did you hang up your stocking? And what would it be like to awake at dawn on Christmas Day and
not
run into your parents’ room shouting, “Merry Christmas! Merry Christmas!”?

The only time Trixie had ever been away from home for more than a day or so had been when she and Honey and Miss Trask had gone off in the Wheelers’ luxury trailer to find Jim after he had run away from his cruel stepfather. She couldn’t remember being homesick then, but that exciting adventure had taken place during the summer. Christmas was entirely different. Christmas was when families were closer than at any other time of the year. And Christmas Eve was when you did everything you could to make little brothers like Bobby keep on believing in Santa Claus.

Christmas without Bobby—bright-eyed and red-cheeked
with excitement, hoarse from singing and shouting—why it was unthinkable!

“I don’t think I want to go after all,” Trixie heard herself mumble. But nobody heard her because down on Glen Road someone was blasting his automobile horn.

That would be Tom, the Wheelers’ handsome young chauffeur, who was to drive them all to the airport.

Brian heaved a loud sigh of relief. “Guess the roads are okay now. The snow plow must have gone through a few minutes ago. But our driveway is a mess, Dad. Wish we had time to help you shovel it.”

“Forget about it
and
winter!” Grinning, Mr. Belden clapped his eldest son on the shoulder.

In spite of everything Trixie couldn’t help thinking how much those two looked alike. They were both so tall and dark and good-looking. She and Mart and Bobby were blond like their mother. Thinking about her parents and Bobby made Trixie homesick all over again, and then Moms was hugging and kissing her and whispering, “You’ll have fun every minute, darling, and when you get back we’ll have Christmas all over again—on New Year’s Eve and on New Year’s Day.”

Trixie knew then that she wouldn’t be homesick and
would
have fun.

They stopped at the Lynches’ to pick up Di and her
father and their luggage; then Tom drove them to the airport. It was just beginning to grow light when they passed through the gate into the safety zone and climbed the steps to the plane.

The attractive young black-haired stewardess showed them to their seats. “Once we’re air-borne you won’t have to stay put,” she told them. “Due to the storm yesterday we had several cancellations so there are plenty of empty seats.”

Honey and Trixie were seated together across the aisle from Mr. Lynch and Jim. Di had a seat behind Honey and across the aisle from Mart and Brian. Suddenly Trixie felt very weak-kneed. After all, she had never flown before in her life. Suppose she got airsick? Horrors! If she did, Mart would never let her live it down.

The steward closed the door and almost immediately a sign up front flashed on:
NO SMOKING. FASTEN YOUR SEAT BELT
.

Then they were in the air! Trixie shut her eyes and held her breath before she dared to peer out of the window and down at the lights of New York City which were already fading away in the distance.

Far from feeling sick, she had experienced only a momentary sense of disappointment because the takeoff had not been scary at all. Now they were flying
smoothly westward, so smoothly that she might just as well have been sitting in the big glider on the Wheelers’ veranda.