The Christmas of Clues
Trixie, her feet covered by wool socks that were decorated with sparkly Christmas trees, padded into the kitchen of Crabapple Farm where she found her Aunt Alicia seated at the table. In Alicia’s hand was a cup of steaming mulled cider and she was softly humming Angels We Have Heard on High.
“Yum!” Trixie gave a quick sniff. “That smells delicious. I think I’ll have a cup myself.”
Going to the cupboard, she pulled out a festively seasonal mug, filled it with the fragrant quaff, then sat down next to her Aunt.
Alicia nodded her head toward the family room where the rest of the family had gathered after the delicious Christmas dinner. “Which movie did everybody decide to watch?”
“They didn't. But Moms and Diana are so smart. They let the men pick their movie, Christmas Vacation, which they managed to watch for about five minutes before they fell asleep. Then Moms and Diana switched over to White Christmas.”
“Good for them. I love that movie and the costumes in it. I always fancied the dress Rosemary Clooney wears in the final scene.” Aunt Alicia took a sip of her cider. “Today was quite a day, wasn’t it?” Setting down her mug, she fussed with the sequined design that was stitched on the front of her sweater.
“Christmas always is,” agreed Trixie. “But this year seemed like it was better than all the others.”
“Really?” Aunt Alicia took another sip of her cider. “I can remember a Christmas that was filled with clues and an exciting hunt through this house for a special gift. I always thought that was your favorite Christmas.”
“Oh, yeah.” As Trixie relaxed back in her chair, a dreamy smile spread across her face. “I change my previous statement. The one I always think of as “The Christmas of Clues” was indeed the best one.”
Trixie blew on her cider, then took a small sip. Settling herself more comfortably in the maple chair, she laid her head back and closed her eyes. As the treasured memories played out in her mind, she recalled the excitement and intrigue that thrilled her as she followed a set of clues that led her around the farm on a cold Christmas morning.
Trixie, age 10, awoke bright and early. In the twin bed next to her, her little brother Bobby snored softly in his sleep, his favorite stuffed bunny snuggled tight in his small hands. Throwing back the warm covers, she quickly jumped out of her bed and ran into the hallway.
“It’s Christmas! Wake up everybody, it’s Christmas!” Trixie dashed back into her room and grabbed her robe.
The sounds of moaning and grumbling came from her parents’ room while Mart eagerly joined his sister.
“Come on, Brian,” yelled Mart over his shoulder. “Like Trixie said, it’s Christmas.”
Brian, yawning and stretching, slowly walked out of the room he shared with his brother.
“What’s with you two?” he asked as he ran a hand through his dark, rumpled hair. “Don’t you think you could sleep just a little bit longer?”
“No,” snapped Trixie as she wagged her finger at her brother. “And you aren’t fooling me a bit. You may be the oldest but you’re just as excited as we are. Now come on, let’s go downstairs.”
“Are you kids up already?” A blurry-eyed Aunt Alicia came to the door of Bobby’s room, where she had been sleeping.
“Yes,” answered Trixie, her cheeks flushed and her eyes bright.
“Okay, you guys.” Peter Belden, tying his robe belt, came out of his room. “Your mother will be ready in a minute. In the meantime, one of you should go get Bobby.”
“I’ve got the little sweetheart,” said Aunt Alicia.
She quietly crept into Trixie’s room where Bobby was still sound asleep. Trixie could hear her Aunt gently awaken Bobby, then help him on with his robe. Trixie hopped around excitedly, her fingers crossed in hopes that she would get the one special gift she had asked for while Mart explained to no one in particular where the image of the plump Santa Claus had originated. Finally, Moms joined the group that was anxiously waiting to head downstairs.
“Okay.” Peter held up his hands. “Maybe I should go down first to make sure Santa actually came.”
“Dad!” groaned the four Belden kids.
With a wink, Peter stepped aside and smiled as Trixie and Mart raced each other to the top of the stairs. Brian followed, stopping to let Bobby go ahead of him. The thumping and stomping on the hardwood steps shook the farmhouse as the entire group descended to the living room. When they got to the bottom step, there was a moment of complete silence as Mart, Trixie, Bobby and Brian took in the sight of the dark room, lit only by the glowing Christmas tree that stood in front of the window. Gifts were piled around and bulging stockings were hanging from the decorated mantle. But the pause only lasted a second or two before the four tore across the room and began digging through the presents, each one searching for the tag that would indicate whom the gift was for.
A few minutes later each child sat by a pile of gifts, waiting for the signal from their parents that the gift opening could begin.
Trixie quickly assessed her pile, then pushed down a feeling of disappointment. By looking at the boxes around her, it appeared that she hadn’t gotten her requested gift. “Gleeps,” she sighed inwardly. “I even put a picture of it on the refrigerator.” But among the gaily wrapped packages, she saw nothing that matched the size of a box she desperately wanted to see.
Peter, Helen and Aunt Alicia disappeared into the kitchen long enough to pour themselves mugs of hot coffee. Returning to the living room, Peter and Helen settled on the couch while Alicia sat in the recliner. Then Peter announced the gift opening could begin. Immediately, Trixie and Mart tore into their presents, tossing aside the printed paper and shiny bows in their haste to discover the contents inside.
“Neato! Just what I wanted,” exclaimed Mart as he held up two thick volumes; one labeled “Dictionary” and the other labeled “Roget’s Thesaurus.”
“What’s that?” Trixie gave the books a curious glance.
“A dictionary and a thesaurus,” explained Mart.
“A what?” Trixie looked puzzled.
“A dictionary. Don’t tell me you don’t know what that is.” He looked at his sister with disgust.
“I know what a dictionary is. What about that?” She pointed at the thesaurus.
“This is a book that gives you a multitude of alternative words.”
Trixie wrinkled her nose. “Those don’t look like much to me. Now this is a real gift.” She held up a new basketball.
“Hey! We can go out and play after breakfast.” Mart tried to grab the ball but Trixie pulled it out of his reach.
“Maybe, if you’re nice.” She tucked it safely away from her brother then continued opening her presents.
“Trixie, dear, did you like the gift from me?” asked Aunt Alicia.
“Um... yeah.” Trixie rummaged through the discarded paper until she found the hand-knitted sweater. Although it was soft to the touch, Trixie found it hard to embrace the pink color. “Thank you, Aunt Alicia. I’m sure it will be nice and warm.”
“And I think it will look really sharp with a nice, gray corduroy skirt.”
With a non-committal nod, Trixie carefully folded the sweater and placed it behind a chair then unwrapped another gift.
“Oh, Moms, look at this,” she exclaimed as she held up a large book of beautifully photographed horses.
“That’s not as good as my book,” declared Mart with a slight smirk.
“Better,” said Trixie as she reverently flipped through the pages. “Way better.”
Once or twice, Trixie paused long enough to admire something one of her brothers had gotten or to watch what her parents were opening. As her pile of wrapped presents dwindled, so did her hope that somehow, someway, the one present she wanted was in one of the boxes.
With all of her gifts opened, Trixie reluctantly accepted the fact that she wasn’t getting her desired gift after all. She quietly helped gather up the wrinkled wrapping paper and crushed bows and stuffed them into a giant trash bag. Moms organized Bobby’s toys into a neat pile. Brian’s gifts were already stacked up in the corner and Mart sat cross-legged on the floor, flipping through his thesaurus.
“Hey! What’s that?” cried Aunt Alicia suddenly.
“What’s what?” demanded Trixie, dropping the trash bag as she spun around.
“That.” Aunt Alicia pointed to an envelope that was propped among the evergreen trimmings and twinkle lights that lit up the mantle.
“I don't know.” Trixie grabbed the envelope and stared at it. “Look! It has my name on it.” She held it out so everybody could see.
“Open it,” ordered Mart.
Trixie opened the flap and pulled out a brightly decorated index card. As she read it, her eyes grew wide.
“What does it say?” Mart fidgeted next to his sister.
“It says,”
“What does that mean?” Mart tried to grab the note from his sister, but she yanked it away and turned her back to him.
“I don’t know, but I’m going to find out.” Trixie bolted from the room and dashed up the two flights of stairs to the top floor.
“Hey! Wait for me,” cried Mart as he followed closely behind with Brian trailing at a slower pace.
Once in the attic, the three stopped and looked around.
“It sure is cold up here,” remarked Brian. “Maybe we should go downstairs and grab some sweaters.”
“We’re not going to be up here that long.” Trixie started poking around, not sure what she was looking for but certain she would recognize it when she found it.
“Come on, Mart, help me.” Trixie peered around the neatly labeled boxes and moved small pieces of furniture. “Gleeps! It’s so dark up here.”
Hoping to get more light in the room, she glanced at the small window and noticed it was iced over with a heavy coating of frost. “Wait! There it is!” she cried excitedly when she saw an envelope propped up on the dusty window sill.
“Open it!” Tripping over a box of forgotten baby blocks, Mart hurried across the room and joined his sister.
With trembling fingers, Trixie tore open the envelope and pulled out another card.
“The bathroom! Your next clue is in the bathroom.” Mart ran toward the stairway with Trixie behind him.
“Get out of the way, Mart. The clues are for me.”
Elbowing her brother aside, Trixie passed him on the stairs then bounded into the hall and to the bathroom. Opening the hamper, she began tossing various pieces of clothing over her shoulder.
“Where is it?” she groaned. “It’s got to be here.” But when Trixie had completely emptied the hamper, she was dismayed to not have found it.
“Did you get it?” Brian stepped over the piles of dirty clothing that dotted the bathroom floor and the upstairs hallway.
“No.” Trixie sat down on the toilet and chewed on her thumbnail while she surveyed the now messy room. Suddenly, she jumped up when she spotted an envelope propped up on the towel rack that was located above the clothes hamper.
“There is it!” She grabbed the envelope and quickly pulled out the next clue.
“It’s downstairs. Come on!” Mart dashed out the bathroom and took off with Trixie right behind.
The two thundered down the stairs, through the living room and into their father’s den.
“Which lamp?” Mart looked around the room.
“Who cares? Just start looking.” Trixie grabbed the first lamp and looked underneath it.
Brian arrived and he too checked under a lamp that was sitting on an end table.
“Nothing.” Trixie re-read the clue, mouthing the words silently to herself. “Where can it be?” she muttered, scanning the room, her brows furrowed in concentration.
Counting the lamps, Trixie was stymied. There were three lamps and she and her brothers had checked each one. Her eyes lit on a hurricane lamp that was nestled among a garland of greens on the windowsill.
“There!” She ran over and carefully lifted the lamp and underneath found an envelope bearing her name. Pulling out the next clue, she excitedly read aloud.
Trixie, Mart, and Brian ran to the old maple hutch that Moms had decorated with greens, small lights, and a collection of nutcrackers, some old and some new. The three quickly checked among the figurines with Brian standing on tiptoe to look behind one that was holding a large walnut.
“Here it is,” he said.
“That’s not a ball,” pointed out Mart. “There are lots of synonyms for the word ‘ball’ but walnut isn’t one of them.”
“Close enough,” snapped Trixie as she opened the next clue.
Trixie dashed to the back door and opened it, immediately feeling a blast of cold air.
“Hold it, you three.” Moms’ voice stopped Brian, Mart and Trixie in their tracks.
“Maybe you should put your coats on.” Moms nodded toward the pegged rack that held their winter coats.
“Okay. Here, Trixie.” Brian handed his sister her coat then slid his pajama clad arms into his own.
“And don’t leave without us,” ordered Moms as she shoved a resisting Bobby into his coat. “We want to see how this ends.”
“Stop, Moms. I want to play with my new Legos,” protested Bobby.
“In a minute,” said Moms, slightly exasperated with her youngest.
“People!” cried Trixie. “Hurry up. This is my Christmas mystery and I want to solve it.”
“We’re ready,” announced Moms when she, Peter and Alicia had finished putting on their heavy coats.
Trixie threw open the back door and tumbled onto the porch where the oft used snow shovel was propped against the house. She pulled the shovel away and saw another envelope bearing her name in the same fancy handwriting. She quickly ripped the card out and read aloud.
“Come on. We have to go to the garage,” shouted Trixie and she leapt off the back porch, knocking a pair of snowshoes aside in her haste.
After running around the snowfort she and her brothers had built the day before, Trixie ran to the garage with her brothers following behind. The adults carefully walked down the slippery steps and trailed at a more cautious pace.
Upon arriving at the garage, Trixie knelt down and tugged at the door handle.
“It won’t open,” she wailed. “It’s frozen shut. Can you open it, Daddy?”
Peter hurried to catch up with his daughter then leaned down and firmly grasped the door handle. He gave two strong tugs then the door released from the frozen pile of slush that was caked on the bottom of it. With the garage door open, the whole family piled inside.
“Brrrrr,” said Aunt Alicia as she clutched her coat around her throat. “I hope you solve your mystery quickly, Beatrix, because it’s cold out here.”
Ignoring her Aunt’s use of her given name, Trixie ran to her father’s car.
“The trunk, Daddy. You have to open your trunk. The clue said so.”
“And I just happen to have my keys right here in my pocket.” Peter slid the key into the lock, gave a sharp twist, and popped open the trunk.
“Look!” Trixie pointed to a clue that was propped up against the spare tire. “But this one’s not in an envelope. And it looks like it’s taped down.”
Leaning into the trunk, she read aloud.
“The arrow points the way?” repeated Trixie softly.
Her eyes followed the imaginary trajectory of the arrow that had been fancily drawn at the bottom of the clue. Her eyes passed over the collection of yard tools that hung on several pegs on the wall. Then she noticed the garbage cans and the recycling bins. Then her gaze jumped past the lawn mower and rested on the family’s bikes. There she saw Brian’s, Mart’s and Bobby’s little bike but hers was missing.
“Wait a minute.” She stepped over to the bikes. “Where’s mine?” she asked, turning around to face her father.
But when she turned, she gasped and a big smile spread across her face as she saw the hoped-for Christmas gift parked behind her father.
“I got it! Gleeps! I got it!” she cried, jumping up and down and clapping her hands together excitedly. “I got the bike I wanted.”
Pushing past her family, Trixie rushed over to the new Schwinn 5-speed bike that boasted handbrakes, a handlebar basket full of candy canes, and a small, front light. She put her leg across the center bar and practiced squeezing the brakes. Rocking it back and forth, she tested the weight and height of it.
“This is the one I showed you guys. I can’t believe it’s mine. This was all I really wanted for Christmas.”
“Trixie,” interrupted Peter. “Why don’t I carry your new bike into the house where you can show it off without the rest of us freezing.”
“Can I ride it to the back door?” begged Trixie.
“Though all that snow?” Peter shook his head. “Besides, you’ve still got your pajamas on.”
“I don’t care. I’ll be all right. Please!”
With Peter’s approving nod, Trixie carefully maneuvered the new bicycle out of the garage. Balancing herself on the seat, she put one slipper clad foot on the pedal then pushed off with the other. She struggled against the frozen piles of snow, but made it to the back door.
“It works great,” she yelled happily. “It’s the best bike in the world.”
“Peter,” whispered Moms. “you’re not going to take that bicycle into the house now, are you? There’ll be snow all over the place.”
Peter held up his hands. “Tell you what, Helen. I’ll wash the kitchen floor before breakfast. After all, Christmas only comes once a year.”
“That’s true,” relented Moms. “But let’s get moving. It’s cold out here.”
At the back door, Peter and Brian shushed the snow and slush off the new tires, then Peter carried the bicycle into the house and, after wiping it down, placed it in the living room with the rest of Trixie’s presents. Trixie, Mart, and Brian slipped off their coats and got down to examining the gift.
“This is a neat bike, Trixie,” said Mart.
“I know,” agreed Trixie happily. “I’m done with riding my old bike forever. It’s so babyish. This one’s much bigger.”
“If you let me ride it, I’ll let you use my thesaurus,” Mart offered.
Trixie hooted. “Not on your life.”
“You know, Trixie, you might want to start out slowly until you get comfortable with the higher seat,” advised Brian.
“I will. I don’t want to fall and scratch it up. I’m going to make sure nothing ever happens to this bike.”
A short time later, the entire family gathered in the kitchen for a scrumptious Christmas breakfast. Moms and Aunt Alicia bustled around getting an egg casserole ready and slicing up a clove studded ham. Cold milk turned into steaming rich mugs of hot chocolate. A bowl of glistening cranberry relish added a festive touch to the table. When they sat down, the family reviewed the gifts they had received that morning.
“I can’t wait to write my next school paper,” exclaimed Mart. “My teacher won’t believe it when she reads all my new words.”
Trixie rolled her eyes. “As if she’d notice anything different from all those ridiculous words you use now.”
“I can’t wait to try out my new microscope. After breakfast, I’m going to go over to the pond and gather some water samples then make up several slides. I’ll actually get to see what organisms exist in that pond.”
“And I’m going to build a new doghouse for Reddy with my Legos,” declared Bobby as he affectionately patted the family dog.
“It sounds like you all will have a busy afternoon,” noted Aunt Alicia. “Beatrix, what do you plan on doing?”
Trixie looked out the kitchen window and frowned. “I guess I can’t go out and ride my new bike with all the snow. And I can’t play basketball either. Hmm…”
“You can help your mother and I with the dinner preparations,” suggested Alicia. “You can peel the potatoes then mash them when they’re cooked. You’d be a big help to us.”
Trixie gulped. “Uh...uh…”
Brian quickly wiped his mouth. “That’s a sweet offer, Aunt Alicia, but I was hoping Trixie could come with me. It’s important to keep accurate records of where I get the water and I could use an extra set of hands to do that.”
Turning her head quickly, Trixie she shot her brother a grateful look. “Gleeps, Brian, that sounds really neat. I’d be happy to help you.”
Aunt Alicia, one eyebrow raised, looked at Trixie and Brian suspiciously, then, with a slight shrug, put another forkful of egg casserole into her mouth. “If you insist…”
“I do. Maybe next time, Aunt Alicia.” Brian gave Trixie a sly wink.
When breakfast was over, the Belden’s started on their choice activities with Moms and Aunt Alicia taking a break before beginning their cooking session in the kitchen.
Brian and Trixie stomped over the snowy ground until they came to a small inlet of the pond that was located near their farm. Standing quietly, Trixie waited for instructions while Brian chopped through the ice then carefully scooped up water and placed it in an old canning jar.
“What do you want me to write on? Did you bring a notebook?” asked Trixie as she rubbed her hands together to warm her fingers.
“Don’t worry about it.” Brian stood up and examined the jar of water against the bright sunlight that bounced off the bare branches of the trees.
“But I thought…”
Brian grinned. “Consider it a life preserver. I knew you didn’t want to spend the afternoon in the kitchen with Moms and Aunt Alicia.”
Trixie sighed loudly. “Thanks, Brian. I owe you.”
“Forget it. But how about if, when we get home, I shovel a path down the driveway, all the way to the road. Then you can take your new bike out for a quick spin.”
“Really? You’d do that?”
“Sure. It’ll be fun.”
“Thanks, Brian.”
“No problem.” Brian moved around the edge of the frozen water, chipping away at the ice as he went and scooping up his water samples while Trixie held the jars he had already filled.
When he was satisfied with his collection, he and Trixie trudged back to Crabapple Farm, carefully carrying the mason jars they had borrowed from Moms. Keeping his promise, Brian shoveled a path down the long driveway, giving Trixie an opportunity to try out her new bicycle.
Brian had just taken a turn on the bike when Mart opened the back door and yelled,
“Trixie! Brian! Time to reenter the family domicile and banish your hunger pangs.”
“What’d he say?” asked Trixie.
Brian rolled his eyes. “Time for dinner.”
“I’m gonna hate that book he got for Christmas.”
“At least he doesn’t test new words on you while you’re trying to go to sleep at night.”
Trixie giggled. “I’d offer to bail you out but I don’t think I could stand that either. How do you handle that?”
“It’s simple,” answered Brian.
“What’s the answer?”
“Ear plugs.”
Laughing, the two went into the house and joined the rest of the family for a delicious Christmas dinner.
*****
Trixie, her eyes sparkling at the memory, took a sip of her cider.
“That was indeed the best Christmas,” she smiled. “And finding my bicycle was even more fun.”
Aunt Alicia got up and returned with a plate of colorful Christmas cookies that the family had decorated a few days earlier. “I’m glad you enjoyed it. Although, I've always wondered if that’s where your penchant for solving mysteries came from.”
Trixie chuckled. “Maybe. But I do know that Moms and Dad outdid themselves that year. Imagine my bike being in the garage all along and I never even noticed.”
Alicia shook her head. “No, my dear, your bike wasn’t in the garage until Christmas Eve.”
Trixie reached for a cookie. “It wasn’t. I wonder where it was.”
“It was safely hidden away in the back room of Mr. Lytell’s store. Your mother was fairly certain that was one place you’d never go. But your father had to go over there after work and put that bike together. It took him several evenings to get it all done. In fact, he had to put the finishing touches on it Christmas Eve. Your mother was afraid he wouldn’t get it finished.”
“The back room of Lytell’s store, huh? I’m surprised the old grump didn’t throw it out.”
“Now, Trixie. Mr. Lytell is actually fond of you.”
Trixie snorted. “And Santa Claus brought all those presents in the living room.”
“Now you’re just being stubborn. Mr. Lytell doesn’t like to show his emotions, that’s all.”
Trixie took a sip of her cider and eyed her Aunt suspiciously. “When did you become a connoisseur of Mr. Lytell?”
“I think I’m around here enough to see what’s going on. I admit Mr. Lytell is cantankerous, but underneath, he’s a nice man.”
Trixie bit into an iced cookie. “And can you imagine Moms having the time to write out all those clues? Gleeps! She did a real good job disguising her handwriting too.”
Aunt Alicia cocked her head and looked at Trixie. “Why do you think your mother wrote them?”
Trixie shrugged. “Who else. I can’t see Dad doing that.”
“Land sakes! What kind of a sleuth are you?”
Trixie stopped chewing and looked at her Aunt. “What do you mean?”
Aunt Alicia leaned forward. “Do you mean to tell me you didn’t recognize that fancy handwriting?”
Puzzled, Trixie shook her head.
“I was the one who came up with the clues and wrote them out,” announced Aunt Alicia.
“You did?”
Alicia nodded proudly. “Indeed.”
“But...but… They were so clever and…” Trixie stopped. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to imply you weren't clever.”
“Beatrix, I’m an English teacher but it may surprise you to know that I do more than grade papers and hand out detentions.”
Trixie finished her cookie. “So, you, Moms, Dad and Mr. Lytell were all in on it?”
Alicia nodded. “Of course, but Mr. Lytell didn’t know about the hidden clues.”
“Smart decision. He’d probably refuse to help because the whole thing would be too much fun.”
“Beatrix!”
Wrinkling her nose, Trixie reached for another cookie. “I stand by my belief.” She smiled at her Aunt. “Thank you for being such a big part of my best Christmas.”
“You’re welcome.”
Trixie held out her mug. Alicia met it with her own mug, creating a soft clink.
“Merry Christmas, Aunt Alicia.”
“Merry Christmas, Trixie.”
