Between the Pages

Spider Webster trudged up the worn, linoleum covered stairway to the second story flat he shared with his younger brother, Tad.  The day had been a long one for the young officer, starting off with a snowy commute during morning rush hour and ending with a small collision between a car and a school bus.  Entering the gloomy, unlit apartment, Spider called out,

“Tad? Tad? You home?”

Hearing no reply, Spider went to his room where he removed his holster and gun, then secured them in a locked box at the back of his closet.  After changing out of his police uniform and into a pair of worn, comfortable jeans, he padded into the kitchen, frowning when he saw neither his brother nor a note from him indicating his whereabouts.  The kitchen counter was cluttered with the leftover dishes from the two’s hasty breakfast that morning and the trash can smelled like onions and sour milk.

“Where is he and what’s he up to?”  grumbled Spider, who had grown weary of his brother’s immature antics and irresponsible behavior.

Opening the refrigerator door, Spider grabbed a pound of ground beef and plopped it into a skillet, then tackled the dirty dishes left over from breakfast. He scrubbed out the dried milk at the bottom of cereal bowls and scoured glasses that had orange juice pulp stuck to their sides.

“I told Tad to come home and clean this place up.  But did he listen to me?  No.”  

After digging through a kitchen drawer in search of a  fresh dish towel, Spider slammed it shut in frustration. The bowls and dishes clinked and clattered as Spider rinsed and piled them into the dish drainer. A quick swipe at the counters finished the kitchen.  Then Spider tackled the messy living room, gathering up an old newspaper and several glasses that bore the remains of a sugary drink.  He grabbed one of Tad’s t-shirts, balled it up and tossed it into the clothes hamper that sat in the bathroom. Pausing, he took a moment to peek into Tad’s room, then closed the door with a shudder. Finally, he twisted open the blinds, allowing the weak light of the late January afternoon to filter into the shabby living room.  

“I’m going to have to talk to that kid. I’m tired of working all day, then coming home and tackling his messes. We’re supposed to be taking care of this place together.”

Spider went back into the kitchen where he added some additional ingredients to the meat that was now sizzling.  A few minutes later, he heard the front door of the apartment slam shut.

“Spider?”

“I’m in the kitchen.”

Tad Webster, 14 years old, bounded into the kitchen.  “When’s dinner ready?” His jacket was unzipped and his hair was damp from the late-day   snow showers.

Spider rapped the spoon he was using on the edge of the skillet, then turned.  “You get dinner when you're done with the chores I told you to do this morning.”

“What chores?”

“The breakfast dishes, for one.”

Tad looked at the loaded dish drainer.  “They’re already done.”

“That’s because I had to do them so I had space to cook dinner.  You were also supposed to take out the trash and tidy up the living room.”

Tad took a step back and glanced over his shoulder.  “It looks pretty neat to me.”

Spider gritted his teeth together.  “That’s because I already did that too.”

“Then what am I supposed to do?” groused Tad.

“Go get the vacuum and sweep the entire apartment, including that mess hole of your room.”

Tad’s jaw dropped.  “The entire apartment?”

“Yeah, all 800 square feet of it.  Then when you’re done, you can empty the trash then run a load of laundry downstairs and get that started. I noticed the full hamper in the bathroom.”

“Ah, come on Spider. Can’t I eat first?  I’m starving.  And you know how a growing boy needs his food.”

Spider shook his head.  “Nope.  I don’t care if you go hungry tonight.  I left you specific tasks and you chose to ignore them.  By the way, where were you?”

“Out with my friends.  You know you can never start too early getting ready for spring baseball.”

Spider rolled his eyes and pointed toward the living room.  “Well, now you can get ready to vacuum.”

Tad disappeared around the corner and Spider soon heard the hum of the appliance as Tad haphazardly pushed it around the apartment.  

Feeling a headache coming on, Spider made himself a cup of coffee then got out a can of green beans which he dumped into a small saucepan. After checking on the meat, Spider took his mug and sat down at the table and opened the newspaper.  

“I’m done with the vacuuming.  Now can we eat?” demanded Tad a few minutes later.

“No.  You have to start the laundry and the trash is still here.”

“Oh, come on, Spider.  That can wait until after dinner.” Tad pulled out his chair and sat down.

“Don’t bother getting comfortable, buddy.  We’re not eating until you do as you were told.”

Tad slammed his fist on the table and shoved back his chair.  “Fine.  I’ll go start the laundry.  But I bet if Molinson knew how abusive you were to me, he’d take away your promotion.”

Tad stomped out of the kitchen.  A few minutes later, Spider heard the front door slam and a faint pounding on the stairs as Tad made his way to the basement laundry room.

Folding up the paper, Spider pressed his fingers against his eye sockets in an attempt to calm the pounding in his head. “That kid!  I’ve got to find a better way to deal with him,” thought Spider for the thousandth time.  

Spider had assumed the care of his little brother after the death of their parents in a car accident.  Although he had just turned 18, Spider had no choice but to try and make a home for himself and Tad.  At first, the two had lived in a one-bedroom apartment.  But after a couple of years, Spider had moved up enough in the ranks of the Sleepyside Police Department that he could afford a two bedroom apartment.  But even with the higher salary, Spider found it hard to make ends meet, especially with Tad being too young to get a part time job. Keeping track of him after school was also becoming more difficult. When the two moved in their first apartment, the landlady kept an eye on Tad while Spider worked, which Tad seemed to like.  But when they moved, that supervision disappeared and Tad was often left on his own.  Spider wasn’t thrilled with the kids Tad chose to hang out with.  He winced when he recalled Tad referring to them as “the Hawks.”  Despite intense questioning regarding the members of this group, Tad would only tell Spider that it was a bunch of baseball players and a few others.  

“It’s those ‘few others’ that worries me. If my baby brother has gotten himself into some type of gang, I’ll wring his scrawny little neck,” vowed Spider.

Tamping down the ever-present concerns about Tad, Spider put the food on the table. Opening  the refrigerator to get the milk, he scowled when he realized there was none.  Kicking the door shut, Spider filled two glasses with water and plopped them on the table. When Tad came in a few minutes later, he sat down, ignoring Spider while he dumped two piles of food on his plate, which he then wolfed down. Dinner between the two was a tense affair with each one eating quickly in an attempt to get the unpleasant meal over and done with. Afterwards, Spider cleaned up the kitchen while Tad lounged in front of the tv, an open math book on his lap.

**********

The next morning, Tad ambushed Spider at the breakfast table.

“Spider.  Quick!  I need ten dollars.”

“Good morning to you too,Tad.  And the answer is no.  I don’t have ten dollars on me.”

“What?”  Tad dropped into his chair and reached for the box of Pop-Tarts that was sitting in the middle of the table.  “I thought you got a raise.  What good is it if you don’t have extra money?”

Spider sighed.  “First, my raise paid for the bigger apartment.  Second, I have to stop at the bank this morning to get some cash.”

“Then you can give it to me tonight?”

Spider eyed his brother suspiciously.  “What do you want it for?”

“Me and the Hawks want to buy some weights.”

“Look, Tad, I just paid your spring sports’ fee.  I’m not buying you any extra equipment.  Besides, why don’t you use your allowance for the extra stuff?”

“I can’t.  I already spent it.”

“Then you’ll have to wait till next week to get your weights.”

“Come on, Spider.  I did the laundry last night.”

Spider glared at Tad. “Yes.  And you only folded your clothes and left the rest for me. I took the trash out this morning.”

Tad finished one Pop-Tart and started on another.  “So, about the ten dollars…”

“No! Finish your breakfast and, if you hurry, I can give you a ride to school.”

“You’re not going to charge me for that, are you?” sassed Tad.

“I should,” grumbled Spider.

A few minutes later, the apartment shook slightly as the Websters banged the door on their way out, leaving behind them a messy flat with unmade beds, a bathroom sink full of toothpaste and small hairs, and a table littered with the empty foil packets that had held the Pop-Tarts.

 

That evening, Spider made the two of them frozen chicken tenders and macaroni and cheese.  After placing the food on the table, he called to his brother, who was lounging in front of the tv instead of tackling his homework.

“Tad.  Dinner’s ready.”

Tad rushed to the table, then stopped.  “Are we having chicken nuggets  again?”

Spider threw up his hands.  “What’s wrong with that?”

Sitting down, Tad shrugged.  “I don’t know.  I guess I was hoping for something more.”

“Something more?”

“Yeah, like lasagne or steak or pork chops.”

Spider adjusted his chair.  “This was all I had time for.  You know, you could start dinner after you got home from school.”

“No.  Me and the Hawks were busy today.”

Spider narrowed his eyes at his brother. “Doing what?”

“Oh, you know. Hanging around the drugstore, getting a shake at Wimpy’s.”

Spider watched Tad shovel the scorned chicken nuggets into his mouth. “By the way, have you heard anything about the vandalism at the high school?”

Tad nodded as he speared several more pieces of chicken.  “Yeah.  What kind of idiot would break into lockers? What did they expect to find?  If they’re looking for a grammar book, I’d willingly give them mine.”

“So you don’t know anything about it?” questioned Spider.

“Nope.”

“Are you sure?”

“What? You think I’m involved? I’m not an idiot.  If I did stuff like that, I’d be kicked off the baseball team.”

“Just the same, I hope you’re staying out of trouble.”

Tad looked up and rolled his eyes.  “Of course I am.  I don’t want to run afoul of the law.  You might make me vacuum again.” He grinned at his own  joke.

Spider studied Tad then grabbed the spoon and piled some macaroni and cheese on his plate.  “I don’t want you going out tomorrow after school.  I have to work the late shift and I want you home.”

“Aww, Spider.  Why can’t I hang out with my friends?”

“Because I said ‘no.’”

“I suppose you want me to stay home and clean the apartment?” argued Tad.

Spider nodded.  “Yeah, I think that’d be a great thing for you to do.”

“But that won’t take me very long.  What am I supposed to do after that?”

“How about your homework?”

“I get it most of it done in study hall.”

“I’m sure you’ll think of something.” Spider placed a mound of macaroni and cheese into his mouth.

Tad sulked.  “I hate it when you work nights.”

Spider washed the food down with water.  “Why?”

“Because I have to sit here by myself and sometimes it’s a little creepy.  You hear noises that you know are coming from the apartment next door but they still startle you. I wished we lived in a house.”

Spider got up and refilled his water glass. Before returning to the table, he grabbed the bottle of ketchup then sat down.  “Maybe someday we will.”

“Really? That’d be cool.  I’d even help keep it clean.”

“Then maybe I should start house hunting because it’d be nice to have some assistance around here.”

Tad looked at his brother earnestly.  “I mean it, Spider.  I would help take care of a house.  I  hate living in an apartment, especially this one.  It smells like B.O.”

Spider nodded. “Yeah, I’ve noticed that too.”

“See!  It’s not just me who hates this place.”

“It’s the best we can do for the time being.”

The kitchen became quiet as the two finished eating their dinner.  Afterwards, Tad offered to do the dishes, a gesture that both surprised and pleased Spider.

*****

The next afternoon, Spider did a quick tidying of the apartment then headed to the police station for his shift. Before starting out on his patrol, Spider read the updates regarding the continuing issues at the high school. He noted the new complaint of somebody stealing fifteen dollars out of the principal’s desk drawer. Deciding he would spend some extra time monitoring the school campus, Spider set out.  

Parked in front of the high school at three o’clock, Spider watched the students stream out of the building. Most of them boarded the busses that waited by the curb while the rest walked in groups of two or three.  He frowned when he saw Tad exit the building with a large group of swaggering boys and head in the direction opposite their apartment.

“I told him to go home after school today.”  Frustrated, Spider punched the steering wheel of his cruiser.  “Why can’t he do as I ask?”

Before Spider could approach Tad, he received a call on the radio about a car that was blocking a loading zone. Frowning at Tad’s quickly disappearing form, he pulled out, made a quick u-turn, then drove off. “I’ll talk to him later,” he vowed.

But the rest of the day was a busy one and Spider never had a chance to locate and talk to his brother.  Driving by their apartment at dinnertime, he noticed it was dark.  

“Now where is he?”  

Hoping his brother might be hanging out at Wimpy’s, Spider headed over to the town’s favorite diner to check. But when he got there, he found the diner empty.  Hearing the urgent growling from his stomach, Spider decided to take a quick break and grab a burger and fries then try to figure out where Tad could be.

As he was digging into the hot, juicy sandwich, Trixie Belden and the rest of her group, the Bobwhites, came in. They crowded the counter next to him and in a combination of excited and loud voices, gave several orders at once.

“What’s up with you guys tonight?” asked Spider.

Trixie explained to him that because of the theft of the money from the principal’s desk drawer and other vandalism, all groups in the school were being evaluated, with many being told to disband.

“The school board is meeting tonight,” Trixie explained.  “So we’re planning on hanging around to find out the fate of the Bobwhites. But, we’re not going down without a fight so we have an idea.”

She then outlined the plan the Bobwhites had come up with earlier that day that would illustrate to the school board their usefulness to the community.  Her eyes sparkled as she described the proposed antique show that the Bobwhites would put on in order to raise money for UNICEF. While Trixie was talking, Tad came into the diner.

“Who'd want to go look at a bunch of dumb old antiques?” he sneered.  

When Tad spoke, Spider noticed the Bobwhites’ uncomfortable looks and postures and wondered about the dynamics were between them and Tad.  Believing that an argument was about to develop, Spider took hold of Tad’s coat and steered him toward the door, but not before Tad was able to grab Spider’s unfinished Coke and gulp it down.

“Tad!” said Spider from the doorway.  “Let’s go. Now.”

Out on the dark street, Spider yanked Tad around to face him.

“I thought I told you to go home after school today.”

“But, Spider,” whined Tad.  “Tonight the school board is going to decide the fate of various school groups, including the Hawks.”

“Maybe it would be a good thing if the Hawks were forced to disband,” said Spider.

“That’ll never happen,” vowed Tad.  “Besides, we’re all together on the baseball team.”

“Listen, Tad, I’ve gotta get back on duty.” He turned toward his cruiser, then stopped.

“By the way, I’ve got some cash now.”  Pulling out his wallet, Spider handed Tad a crisp ten dollar bill.  

“Thanks, Spider.”  Tad stuffed the bill into the pocket of his jacket.

“Now go home.”  Spider gave Tad a stern look.

“Okay. But after I find out the results of the school board meeting.”

“No.  Go home and get your homework done.”

“It is done.”

The crackling of Spider’s police radio put an end to the conversation.  Climbing into his cruiser, Spider called out, “Home. Now.”  Then he took off, leaving his brother standing alone on the cold sidewalk.

**********

A week later, Spider finished running an afternoon full of errands that, although lengthy, Tad had added on to.

“Can you pick me up at Scott’s house around three?” the younger brother asked.

“Who’s Scott?” Spider was relatively certain he had never heard the name before.

“Some kid in my history class.  We have to do a dumb research project together.”

“Okay. Give me the address and I’ll swing by but you better be ready when I get there.”

Remembering that admonishment, Spider scowled as he sat idling in Scott’s driveway, He honked the car horn several times then waited, willing his brother to hurry.

“Come on, Tad.  I want to check on Mrs. Vanderpoel,” he muttered to himself. “Then we can go home and catch a basketball game on tv before I have to go to work tonight.”

When Tad exited Scott’s house a few minutes later, he was carrying a plate covered with aluminum foil. Opening the car door, he carefully slid in, balancing the plate between his gloved hands.

“What’s that?” sniffed Spider, immediately recognizing the scent of vanilla and chocolate.

“Cookies.  Scott’s mother baked them and gave me some.  Look.”  Tad peeled back a section of the foil and showed his brother a pile of warm, gooey chocolate chip cookies.

“Mmmm…”

“Can you believe she actually baked these and gave us some.  I can’t wait to eat them.  They smell so good.” Tad clicked his seatbelt then repositioned the cookies on his lap.

“Before we go home, I have one more errand to do,” said Spider.

“Awww, can’t we go home now?” whined Tad.

“No,  I want to check on Mrs. Vanderpoel.” Spider adjusted the rear view mirror then backed out of Scott’s driveway.

“Who?”

“Mrs. Vanderpoel.  She’s a really nice old lady whose house was broken into last night. She lives out off Glen Road.”

“Was she hurt?”

Chuckling softly, Spider shook his head.  “No.  She scared the intruder off with her shotgun”

“For real?” Tad’s eyes were wide with amazement.

Spider nodded.  “Yep.  She’s a feisty thing, that’s for sure.  But I just want to stop in and make sure everything’s all right.”

“Okay.”  Tad  fiddled with the radio, then stopped.  “Hey, Spider?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you know how to make cookies?”

Spider thought for a moment.  “I guess I could do it.  I’ve never really thought about it, though.”

“Oh.”

Glancing at his brother, Spider added, “Tell you what.  When we get home, I’ll look in the cookbook for a recipe.  Then we can get the supplies and make some ourselves.  How does that sound?”

“Cool!”  Tad’s eyes lit up and he sat up excitedly. “We’ve never done anything like that.”

“Then it’s time we did.”

“Great.”  Tad settled back in his seat.

“By the way,” said Spider cautiously, “I had a conversation with Trixie Belden the other day.”

“About what?”

“Oh, about how kids your age can be mean and thoughtless and not even be aware of it.”

“Why’d you do that?”  Tad fiddled with the edges of the foil.

“I just think everybody should try a little harder to get along,” shrugged Spider.

Tad looked at his brother.  “Did you watch a Hallmark movie today or something?”

“No.”

“Then why are you suddenly concerned with feelings and junk like that?”

“I think you need to be open to friendships with more people than just the Hawks.  Remember what mom always said?  You have to be a friend to have a friend.”  

Tad frowned slightly.  “I think you’re worrying for nothing. We get along okay.”

Spider wheeled his car into Mrs. Vanderpoel ‘s neatly shoveled driveway.  The sun shining on the snow made the front yard look as if a million diamonds were dancing atop the snow drifts. Icicles hung from the eaves, nearly touching  the ground.  In some places, snow covered the old yellow bricks that made up the house’s exterior. Even though it was the middle of the afternoon, welcoming candles flickered in the frosted windows.

“Is this where she lives?” asked Tad, craning his neck to look out the car window.

“Yep.  Come on.  I want you to meet her.”

Leading his brother, Spider made his way to the front door where a cheery wreath encircled the old brass knocker. Spider lifted the knocker twice, then stepped back.  He smiled when Mrs Vanderpoel, a short, rosy-cheeked woman opened the door.  After introducing Tad, they both stepped into the cozy house.

Spider immediately saw that Trixie Belden and her two friends, Honey and Diana, were seated at the kitchen table polishing silver.  He gave Tad a slight nudge, then nodded with his head in the girls’ direction.  Heeding Spider’s cue, Tad went over and, after a few awkward moments, joined the girls in their project.  

Watching the scene, Spider internally breathed a sigh of relief when he saw Tad making a genuine effort  to get along with the girls and the girls’ openness in return.  With the four teens chattering away in the kitchen, Spider went outside and made sure Mrs. Vanderpoel’s back door was secure as well as all of her ground floor windows.  When he was finished, Spider accepted a mug of hot chocolate from the woman and the two sat in the quaint living room and visited.  The good natured teasing and laughter from the kitchen gave Spider a glimmer of hope and a brief moment of peace.  He also noticed that a plate of freshly baked cookies dwindled quickly under Tad’s constant munching.   When Spider drained the last of his chocolate from his mug, he stood up.

“Come on, Tad.  We’ve got to get going.”

“Okay.”  Tad carried another load of silver to the sink and carefully washed it off.  After shoving the last cookie into his mouth,  he snagged his jacket from the back of the chair and joined his brother at the door.

“I’ll have a patrol car drive by on an hourly basis,” said Spider as the two stepped out into the late afternoon, the fading light making the snow now appear bluish.

“I appreciate that,” answered Mrs. Vanderpoel.  “And, please, stop in whenever you’re in the area.  You too, Tad.”

Riding back to their apartment, Spider noticed an immediate change in Tad’s demeanor.

“That Mrs. Vanderpoel’s pretty cool, don’t you think?” asked Tad.

Spider nodded. “She definitely can take care of herself.”

“Did you smell her house when we walked in?” Tad relaxed back in his seat.  “It smelled like cinnamon! And those cookies were amazing.  I wish I had some of those to bring home too.”

Spider gave Tad a sideways glance.  “I noticed you seemed to be getting along with those three girls.”

Tad shrugged.  “Heck.  Why not?  I mean, they’re trying to do something good for children, you know, with their antique show to benefit UNICEF.  Besides, it was fun helping them with the silverware.”

“So you liked Mrs. Vanderpoel?”

“Yeah.  You know, she reminds me a lot of Mom.”

“How?” demanded Spider.  “Mom was tall and had long blond hair and liked to wear long dresses.  I don’t see that with Mrs. Vanderpoel at all.”

“It’s not her appearance, more like the way she was bustling around the kitchen,  trying to do a million things at once, talking the entire time, but making sure that everybody was taken care of.  Mom used to do that.  And she was humming while she did all that.  Then, right before we left, she thanked me for my help.” Tad shrugged.  “I don’t know.  It just made me think of Mom, in a good way.”

“I guess I can see that.  I’m a bit worried about her after that break-in last night.  I sure hope whoever it was doesn’t return.”

“Do you think he will?” Tad sounded worried.

“Well, just in case, I’ve requested patrols drive by her house every hour.  I’m on duty tonight so I’ll be sure to drive by often.”

“You better.  I don’t want anything to happen to Mrs. Vanderpoel.”  Tad stared out his car window.  “Even though her house is kinda old-fashioned, I liked it.   Remember how Mom had all those craft projects she had made sitting around the house?  Mrs. Vanderpoel has the same kind of stuff.  I bet she likes to do crafts too, just like Mom.

“Maybe.”  Spider pulled into a parking space outside their apartment and the two hustled in with Tad carrying the plate of cookies.  Inside, they grabbed glasses of milk, then took their treat into the living room where they settled down to watch a basketball game.  After a dinner of pizza, Spider went into his room to take a short nap before having to go to work.  

“I think I’ll go hang out at Scott’s house for a while,” announced Tad as Spider stretched out on his bed.

“Okay, but don’t be gone long.  I want you home when I go to work.”

“Got it.” Tad gave Spider a mock salute, then dashed out the front door, closing it softly behind him.

When Spider awoke a few hours later, Tad was sitting in front of the tv watching a wrestling match.

“I see you made it back.” Spider went into the kitchen and made himself a cup of coffee.

“Yeah.  I’m back.” Tad got up and followed Spider.  “Don’t forget to keep an eye on Mrs. Vanderpoel’s house.”’

“I won't.”

“But Spider, what happens if you get a call?”

Spider pulled a chipped coffee mug from the cabinet.  “Then I’ll have to answer the call.  But considering the way Mrs. Vanderpoel handled herself last night, I’m sure everything will be all right.”

After donning his uniform and getting his gun from the locked box, Spider left, reminding Tad that he was expected to stay home for the rest of the evening.

As soon as the door clicked shut, Tad jumped up and ran into his room and began rummaging through his dresser drawers in search of some warm clothing.  Finding a pair of wool socks and a sweater, Tad put them on then left the apartment, stopping to collect the bicycle he had borrowed from Scott earlier that evening and had stashed behind the trash dumpster.  Keeping his head down against the cold night air,  Tad pedaled to Mrs. Vanderpoel’s house, the faint light on the handlebars guiding him along the snow- packed roads.

Upon arriving at Mrs. Vanderpoel’s house, Tad dragged the bicycle behind the shed that sat at the corner of the back yard then crept into the bushes that surrounded the cottage.  Peeping in a window, he was surprised to see Trixie Belden, clad in an old-fashioned nightgown, sprawled out on one of the couches.  Leaning in a bit further, Tad spotted Mrs. Vanderpoel sipping from a dainty cup.

“Man, it’s cold out here,” he muttered, as his breath hovered in the frosty night air.

Stepping away from the glowing window, Tad stamped his feet and pounded on his chest.  After settling on a particularly full bush, he slid down behind it, resting his back against the cold bricks of the house, allowing the dark night to hide his presence.  With his arms wrapped around his body, Tad buried his face in the small opening at the neck of his coat and waited.

A short time later, the lights in the snug house went out and silence filled the still night air. Tad shifted slightly, causing the bushes to quiver. The unexpected hooting of an owl broke the silence.  Then the sound of footsteps crunching over the snow pierced the tranquility of the moonless night .  Tad sat up, parted the shrubs, and saw a figure creeping slowly through the yard and around the corner of the house.  Sliding out from behind the bush, Tad followed.  Peering into the darkness, he saw the unknown person pry open the back door and step inside.  Tad darted quickly and silently, his hands fisted and ready.  

Suddenly, he heard a combination of Trixie’s voice, Mrs. Vanderpoel’s voice and the scuffling of shoes over the hard floor.  Tad dashed toward the door and caught the culprit just as he was making a break away from the house.  

“I’ve got him, Trixie.  Get a rope,” yelled Tad.  

A few minutes later Tad had the disguised culprit on the ground, trussed up like a Thanksgiving turkey.  He grabbed the black, knit ski mask that covered the intruder’s face and yanked it off, causing Mrs. Vanderpoel to gasp.

“I know him,” she exclaimed, pointing an accusing finger at the young man on the ground.  “He shoveled my walks the other day.”

“Isn't it a bit late to be collecting your money?” quipped Tad as he prodded the culprit with the toe of his boot.

Mrs. Vanderpoel stared at the young man.  “Well, I don’t know who you are but I’ve called the police.  This time you won't get away.”

“I know who he is.  He’s Bull Thompson, nephew of Snipe Thompson, one of Sleepyside’s more unsavory crooks.” Tad smirked at the young hoodlum lying in the snow.

Bull struggled against the ropes, but they held tight as Tad, Trixie and Mrs. Vanderpoel waited for the police to arrive.

Minutes later, Spider’s cruiser slid into the driveway and the young officer jumped out and ran to the door.

“What happened? Is anybody hurt?”  Seeing Tad standing over a tied-up man caused Spider to blink once, then again.

“What in the world are you doing here?” he demanded.  “I thought I told you to stay home tonight.”

“It’s a good thing I was here because this guy tried to break in.  When Mrs. Vanderpoel scared him away, he ran straight into my arms.”  Tad offered a slight bow.  “You’re welcome.”

Spider sent a seething glare to his brother then got to work.  After radioing for another cruiser, Spider conferred with Trixie and Mrs. Vanderpoel regarding what had transpired.  When the cruiser arrived, Spider read  Bull Thompson his rights, then placed him in the back seat.  

Turning to Tad, his face became stern.  “And you…”

“Don’t you say one word against him.  If it weren’t for Tad, then….I don’t know what might have happened,” exclaimed Mrs. Vanderpoel.

“Yes, but I told him to stay home.”  Spider’s voice was tinged with both authority and frustration.

“I know what you told me, Spider, but I just had a feeling that something was going to happen.”  Tad jammed his fists into his coat pockets.

“Well, I, for one, am glad Tad was here or that goon might have gotten away again.” Trixie folded her arms across her chest and stared smugly at the officer.

Spider held up his hands.  “Fine.  Tad was in the right place at the right time.  I get it.  Now he and I need to secure the backdoor so you two ladies can get some sleep.”

After the two repaired the jimmied lock, they headed toward the front door.

“Oh, Spider,” called Mrs. Vanderpoel.

Spider stopped.  “Tad, you go get in the cruiser so I can take you home.”  Then he stooped over and listened intently as Mrs. Vanderpoel spoke in hushed tones.

Straightening up, Spider doffed his hat then stepped out into the cold night air, closing the door firmly behind him.

“What’d she want?” demanded Tad when Spider took his place behind the wheel.

“She wanted to invite us over for dinner tomorrow night.”  Spider carefully backed out of the driveway, then took off toward town.

“Did you say we’d be happy to have dinner with her?” Tad’s eyes had a bright glow to them.

Spider nodded.  “Yes.  She really wants to thank us for helping her out tonight.”

“Correction:  she wants to thank me.  You were just doing your job.”  He grinned at his brother.

Spider frowned.  “I get the distinct feeling you know Bull Thompson.  Am I right?”

“Yeah.  For a while he was a member of the Hawks.  But he stole part of the money we were saving to buy some new equipment so we kicked him out.  Besides, he isn’t on the baseball team or even in school.”

Spider sighed loudly.  “I was afraid you were getting mixed up with the wrong people.”

“But Spider, we kicked him out.”

Spider shook his head.  “Tad, I have to be able to trust you when I’m at work.”

“I know.”

“We’ll have to have a long talk tomorrow.”

“Okay.”

Neither brother spoke until Spider made the turn onto their street.  “You really like Mrs. Vanderpoel, don’t you?”

Tad nodded.  “Yeah, I do.”

“Just so you know, if we’re going to go to dinner tomorrow, you’ll have to clean the apartment while I sleep.  And make sure you get all your homework done.  And no sneaking out.”  Spider’s voice held a threatening tone.

“I’ll do whatever you say, Spider.  Promise.  Do you think I should run to the store and buy some flowers for her?”

Spider tilted his head and looked at Tad in surprise.  “That might be a real nice thing to do.”

“Okay. I’ll do that after I clean tomorrow.  But now,  just drop me off at home and I’ll go to bed.”

Pulling up at the curb, Spider waited as Tad exited the vehicle then watched him jog up the walk.  A few seconds later, he saw the lights go on in the apartment.  Then he was surprised when Tad suddenly appeared at the living room window and waved.  Feeling relieved that his brother was safely home, Spider drove off.

When Spider awoke the next afternoon, he found a tidy apartment and an old tupperware pitcher full of bright sunflowers on the kitchen counter.  Tad was seated at the table writing furiously in a notebook.

“Hey, Spider.”

“Humph.”  Spider walked past Tad and headed for the coffee maker.  

“It’s already made,” said Tad.

“Really?”  Spider looked at the pot of coffee then at his brother.  “Okay.  I give up.  Where’s the real Tad Webster?”

“Ha! Ha!”  Tad closed his notebook and shoved it aside.  ‘What time do you think we should leave?”

Spider checked the clock above the stove.  “I guess in an hour.  You sure are excited for dinner.”

Tad shrugged.  “Why not?  It’s been forever since we’ve had a real home-cooked meal.”

Spider sat down at the scarred table.  “I guess I haven’t done a very good job making us a home.”

“Au contraire, frère.  You’ve done a great job.  But sometimes it’s nice to have a dinner that didn’t come from the frozen food department.”

Spider surveyed the kitchen. “The apartment looks good, Tad.  I appreciate your help.”

Tad assessed his work.  ‘’Yeah, I think it does too. I probably should help out more around here.  It doesn’t take that much time.”

Spider took a sip of his coffee. Setting his cup down, he rubbed his forehead.

“What’s wrong?  You’re not sick, are you?” Tad asked, an anxious catch in his voice.

“No. I’m fine.  Just wondering how I can make things easier for us.”

“I said I’d help out more.”

“I know.  But in a few months, baseball practice will be starting.  Then you’re going to be really busy.”

“Maybe you could get a girlfriend who would cook and clean for us.”

Spider winced.  “I don’t think that’s a very good reason to get a girlfriend.  Besides, we’re capable men.  We should be able to do this.  Maybe we can sit down and make a schedule for household tasks that will work for both of us.”

“Sure.”

Spider got up and refilled his coffee cup, then disappeared into the bathroom to shower and get ready for their dinner with Mrs. Vanderpoel.  Tad finished the last bit of his homework, then went into his room and searched for a clean shirt to wear.

Dinner with Mrs. Vanderpoel was a delicious affair.  She was pleased with the flowers and placed them in an old blue pitcher in the middle of her laid out table.  Mrs. Vanderpoel seemed delighted to have two young people to cook for and fussed over them endlessly.  When she served dessert, apple pie with homemade vanilla ice cream, Tad whooped with delight.

Mrs. Vanderpoel laughed.  “I take it you like the dessert, Tad.”

“I sure do.  This is great.” He quickly finished his portion then held out his plate for seconds.

“Oh, my.  This does my heart good.  I’ve so missed having somebody to take care of,” beamed Mrs. Vanderpoel.

When dinner was over, Tad jumped up and carried the dirty dishes into the kitchen where he filled the sink with hot soapy water and got to work.  In the dining area, Mrs. Vanderpoel and Spider sipped their coffee and talked.

“Is he always so helpful?” asked Mrs. Vanderpoel.

Spider shook his head.  “Not at all.  You seem to bring out a side of him that I haven’t seen in years. No, correction: ever!”

Nodding her head slightly, Mrs. Vanderpoel invited Spider to share the sad story of the two brothers.  When he was done, she reached out and covered his hand.  

“It sounds like you took on a lot when you were just a kid yourself.  Don’t worry, Spider.  I’m sure everything will work out just fine.”

“We’re trying,” answered Spider.

Tad’s hollering from the kitchen interrupted the conversation.  “Hey, Mrs. Vanderpoel!  What do you want me to do with the wet dish towels?”

“Land sakes!  Is he done with the dishes already?  I could use Tad in my kitchen everyday.  Although I love to cook, I’m not a big fan of the clean-up.”

“But your house is so tidy,” said Spider as he looked around the immaculate living room.

“Self-discipline.  That’s the answer.”

“I wonder if Tad’s ever heard of that,” mumurred Spider as Mrs. Vanderpoel got up from the table and disappeared into the kitchen.

When the two left that evening, Spider watched as Tad disappeared around the side of the house, then returned wheeling a bicycle.

“What’s that?” questioned Spider.

“It’s Scott’s bike.  I borrowed it so I’d have a way to get out here last night.  I thought we could drop it off on the way home.”  Tad slid the bicycle into the back seat.

“You can be pretty resourceful when you want to be,” remarked Spider drily.

“Yep,” grinned Tad as he clicked his seatbelt and settled back for the short ride into town.

For the next several days, Mrs. Vanderpoel found different reasons to stop in at the Sleepyside Police Department and visit with Spider who took the opportunity to solicit advice from the woman regarding different ways to handle Tad.  He was pleased when, after trying her suggestions, noted   positive results.  

On Friday, Mrs. Vanderpoel stopped in and requested Spider talk with her in private.  Spider led her into an empty interrogation room where he sat her in a chair at an old formica table.

“Can I get you anything to drink?  Coffee? A soft drink?” offered Spider.

“No, thank you.  Please, Spider, sit.”  Mrs. Vanderpoel motioned to the chair across from her.  

“Now,” began Mrs. Vanderpoel.  “the way I see it.  I have something you need and you have something I need. That sounds like the beginning of a great deal.”

Spider’s brow furrowed  “What do I have that you need?”

“Someone to take care of and fuss over.”

Spider’s eyes narrowed.  “And dare I ask what I need?

Mrs. Vanderpoel laid her hands on the table.  “You need someone to watch over Tad while you’re at work.”

Spider scratched the back of his neck.  “I appreciate the offer, but Tad and I are managing all right.”

“Managing?  Is that what you want for yourselves?”

“Well….no. But…”

“Just as I thought.  Now, you and Tad just pack up your belongings and move into my house.  I have plenty of room.”

Spider shook his head.  “I can’t let you do that, Mrs. Vanderpoel.  Do you have any idea how much it costs to feed the two of us. Besides, Tad’s a real handful.’

Mrs. Vanderpoel shrugged.  “Fine.  If you insist, pay a little rent. As for Tad, let me handle him.”

“I don’t think I can let you do this.”

Mrs. Vanderpoel leaned forward.  “Look, Tad had a wonderful time Sunday night and I loved cooking for you.  And the bonus for me was I didn’t have to do the dishes. Spider, I think you’ve done an excellent job but let’s face it,  when you work nights, Tad is left home alone.  I could certainly use the company and I’m betting you could use the peace of mind.”

Spider leaned back in his chair.  “You know how to drive a strong deal.”

“So you’ll do it?”  Mrs. Vanderpoel placed her hands together as if in silent, joyous prayer.

“If Tad agrees, then we’ll do it, “  Spider held up his index finger.  “Provided I pay you a decent rent.”

Mrs. Vanderpoel sniffed.  “If that will make you feel better…”

“It will.”

“Then it’s a deal.”

“Should we shake?” asked Spider as he stood up.

Mrs. Vanderpoel smiled.  “That’ll seal it.”

Spider held out his hand and the two shook.  “Thank you,” he said softly.

“You’re welcome.”

 

That evening, Spider picked up a pizza for dinner.  Setting it in the middle of the table, he added a couple of plates and some drinks.  Checking his watch, he frowned.

“Where is he?  I told him to be home in time for dinner.”

Just then, Spider heard the familiar thumping of Tad's shoes on the apartment stairs.

“Hey, Spider.” Tad slammed the door shut behind him.  “Am I in time for dinner?”

“Barely.”

“Good.”  Tad disappeared into the bathroom then returned a few minutes later, the smell of the soap he had used clinging to his hands.  “Let’s eat.” Tad sat down and slid two pieces of the fragrant pie onto his plate.

Spider followed suit.  “So, where were you this afternoon?”

Tad swallowed.  “Hanging out with the guys.  Did you know they sell kettlebells at Crimpers.”

Spider shook his head.  

“We’re gonna buy some next week.  That ought to help us put on some muscle.”

Spider wiped his mouth with his napkin.  “Uh, Tad.  We’ve got to talk.”

“About what?”

“Mrs. Vanderpoel.”

Tad stopped chewing.  “Did something happen?  Is she all right?”

“She’s fine.”

“But….”

“But, nothing.  She and I have been talking and we’ve worked out a deal.”

“What kind of deal.”  Tad grabbed two more pieces of pizza.

“We’re going to live with her.”

“What?” Tad’s mouth fell open, exposing the chewed piece of gooey pie inside.

“We're going to live with her.  I’m going to pay her rent, of course.  But she’ll be there for you when I’m busy at work.”

Tad smiled broadly.  “You mean we’re finally going to live in a house, a real house with dinners every night and freshly baked cookies?”

“And chores and responsibilities.  What do you think?”

“When can we move in?”

“At the end of next week.”

“Cool!”

“And you’ll be riding the bus to and from school so you won’t be able to hang out with your friends as much.”

“Hmm…” Tad frowned slightly. “Oh, well,  I’m sure there’s a lot of stuff I can do at Mrs. Vanderpoel’s house that will help me get ready for baseball.”

“Tad, I’m glad you’re happy about this move.  But, why?  Why is this so important to you?”

Tad picked the pepperoni off his pizza and popped it in his mouth.  “I told you she reminded me of Mom.  And I get a good feeling around her, like the outside world can’t get inside her house.   I think that sounds pretty lame but that’s the way I feel.  Just think, I’ll be able to come home from school and somebody will actually be waiting for me.  Sometimes, I think that’s what I miss the most about Mom, coming home to her smile.”

“Yeah.”

The two fell silent.  The light above the kitchen table cast shadows in the living room beyond.  The occasional thump and bumps from other apartments jarred the quiet.  

Finally, Spider spoke.  “So, it's a definite ‘yes?’”

Tad nodded.

“Then I say we go downtown after dinner and see if we can scrounge up some boxes and start packing.”

“You’re on.”

 

Two weeks later, Spider and Tad were firmly ensconced in Mrs. Vanderpoel’s cozy house.  Spider took the guest bedroom while Tad took over her tiny, quaint sewing room. Spider was pleased when Tad immediately assumed some responsibilities around the house:  keeping the walks shoveled, pulling down the icicles that hung from the eaves, and washing the dinner dishes every night.  Tad’s improved attitude and reliability gave Spider peace of mind, especially during the nights he had to patrol the streets of Sleepyside.  

One afternoon, Tad came home from school and met Mrs. Stratton, the principal's wife, who had dropped by for tea with Mrs. Vanderpoel.

“Oh, Mrs. Stratton,” gushed Mrs. Vanderpoel.  “I'd like you to meet Tad Webster.  He’s a freshman at the high school.  He and his brother Spider moved in with me a few weeks ago and I can’t begin to tell you how wonderfully well it has worked out.”

Mrs. Stratton nodded and smiled at Tad.  “Nice to meet you.”

Tad nodded his head in response then addressed Mrs. Vanderpoel.  “Did you bake any cookies today?”

Mrs. Vanderpoel smiled.  “Yes.  There’s a full cookie jar on the counter.”

“Great!”  Tad turned and stepped toward the kitchen.

“Ahem,” Mrs. Vanderpoel’s throat clearing caused Tad to stop.

“Yeah?” He looked at Mrs. Vanderpoel quizzically.

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” Mrs. Vanderpohl made a slight nodding motion toward Mrs. Stratton.

“Huh?  Oh, yeah.” Tad reddened slightly.  “It was nice meeting you, Mrs. Stratton.”

Receiving Mrs. Vanderpoel’s approving nod, Tad then retreated into kitchen where he set a glass of milk on the table then lugged over the ceramic cookie jar from the counter.  With a satisfied sigh, he sat down and dug into the still-warm cookies as he started his homework.”

“What a nice young man,” remarked Mrs. Stratton.  “I’m glad he’s not one of those ruffians that makes my husband’s job so difficult.”

“Tad is a nice young man,” agreed Mrs. Vanderpoel.  “But what ruffians are you talking about?”

“Oh, haven’t you heard?  There have been some incidents at the high school.”

“Oh, yes.  I did hear something about that.” Mrs. Vanderpoel took a sip of her tea.

“Yes. And the recent appearance of graffiti on the high school stadium is quite troubling.”

“Oh, my.  That sounds horrible.”

In the kitchen, Tad poured himself another glass of milk then grabbed a second handful of cookies from the antique cookie jar.   He opened his math book and started on his homework, but the voices from the living room kept intruding on his concentration.

“Oh!” exclaimed Mrs. Stratton.  “Is it 4:30 already?  I’m going to have to scurry if I want to have dinner on the table when Mr. Stratton gets home.  You know, a few weeks ago, I was really running late so I stopped in the high school to borrow some money from my husband so I could grab some take-out on the way home.  I couldn’t find him so I just took fifteen dollars from his desk drawer.  He’d been having such a bad week that I wanted dinner ready and waiting when he walked through the door. Anyway, when he got home that night, I had the most delicious dinner laid out for him, courtesy of the dining room at Crimper’s Department Store.  He never figured it out and I forgot to tell him about borrowing the money.”  Mrs. Stratton giggled slightly.  “On the other hand, I think I’d like to keep him in the dark since I may have to employ that tactic again if I get short on time.”

Tad pushed back his chair and went into the living room.  “Uh, Mrs. Stratton?”

“Yes, Tad.”

“I couldn’t help but overhear what you just said.  Can I offer you some advice?”

“Well, of course.”

“Maybe you should tell Mr. Stratton about the money and the dinner.”

“Oh?”

Tad shifted slightly.  “See, Mr. Stratton is under the impression that somebody stole the money and assumes it’s the same people who’ve been vandalizing the school.  I think he would feel better if he knew what had really happened to his money.”

“Oh, dear.  I had no idea. Although, with all the recent vandalism, Mr. Stratton’s theory makes sense.  Yes, I think you’re right, Tad.  I’ll tell him tonight.”

Mrs. Stratton stood up and waited while Mrs. Vanderpoel retrieved her coat from the closet.  Then the two walked to the front door while Tad returned to his homework.  A few minutes later, Mrs. Vanderpoel hustled into the kitchen.

“I better get started on my own dinner.  I hope you like pork chops, Tad.”

“Sounds good to me.”

Mrs. Vanderpoel pulled out a big cast iron skillet and got to work.  Soon the smell of onions, garlic and browning meat filled the kitchen.  

“So, Tad?”  Mrs. Vanderpoel sat down at the table.  “Do you know anything about the vandalism at the high school?”

Tad closed his math book and nodded.  “Yeah.  I think some of it was caused by Bull Thompson, the kid they arrested at your house a couple of weeks ago.  He stole money from me too. Once I realized he was trouble, I kept my distance.”

“Did you ever tell Spider what you suspected?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

Tad shrugged.  “I just figured he’d yell at me and tell me to stay home in the apartment.”

Mrs. Vanderpoel’s face took on a thoughtful look.  “You know, Tad, I think your brother’s done an admirable job of taking care of himself and you.  But let’s be honest;  he’s not your father.  He’s your brother.  That puts him in a precarious situation.”

“How?”

“He hasn’t raised you.  For most of his life, he battled with you and told on you or you told on him.  How does that become a guardian based relationship?”

“I never thought of that.”

“And you had your own issues to deal with.  You were so young when you lost your parents.”

“But I had Spider.”

“Yes, you did. So, tell him tonight about Mrs. Stratton taking the money so he can get that off his mind.”

“Off his mind?  Was he worried about that?”

Mrs. Vanderpoel nodded.

“Why?”

“Because he told me he was afraid you had taken the money, especially when he wasn’t able to give you money when you needed it.”

Tad looked surprised.  “But he never said anything.”

“No.”

Tad sat silent for a minute.  “He didn’t ask because he was afraid of what the answer might be. Right?”

Mrs.Vanderpoel nodded.

“I guess I was a big brat.” Tad looked down and frowned.

“Well, it’s all behind you now. Why don’t you clear your books off the table so you can set it.  I’m going to get the noodles ready.  Your brother should be home soon.”

Tad gathered his school supplies and carried them to his room.  Returning to the kitchen, he got out the plates and silverware and within in few minutes had the table ready. When Spider arrived, Tad told him about the conversation he’d had with Mrs. Stratton.

“Thanks for telling me that.  I’ll wait a few days then contact Mr. Stratton.  At least we know the disappearing money isn’t tied to the rest of the vandalism.”

“Dinner’s ready!” Mrs. Vanderpoel stood in the doorway to the living room.  A gaily printed apron that she had purchased from the recent UNICEF fundraiser accentuated her cheeks that were even rosier from the heat of the kitchen.

“Let’s eat.”  Spider led the way to the table where the three sat down and dug into a delicious repast.

“I can’t tell you how much I appreciate you letting us live here,” said Spider as he scooped a big pile of homemade noodles onto his plate. “I don’t know how I’ll ever be able to repay you.”  He passed the platter of fragrant pork chops to his brother.

Mrs. Vanderpoel’s eyes took on a sparkling glint. “You know, you could, maybe, I don’t know, go out on a date.”

Spider’s fork stopped halfway to his mouth. “A date?”

“Yeah, Spider,” goaded Tad. “A date. You know, like when a man takes a woman out to dinner or the movies or something like that.” Tad grinned at his brother. “Or maybe go to a party like I did a couple of weeks ago.”

“And who am I supposed to take out on a date?”

“Hey, there are a couple of teachers at school who are pretty hot.  Want me to set something up?”

Spider glared at Tad.  “No, thank you.  I’m pretty sure I can find a date on my own.”

Tad shrugged.  “Okay.  Have it your way.  But if you don’t hurry up, I may have a date before you do.”

Spider carefully set his fork down.  “Actually, I’ve been thinking about taking a few college classes.’

Tad’s mouth dropped open.  “For real?”

Spider nodded.  “I never did have a chance to even start.  Maybe now’s a good time to do that.”

“Then I think you should,” said Mrs. Vanderpoel, her head bobbing in approval.  “And think what a good example you’d be setting for Tad.”

“For me?” Tad looked puzzled.

“You are planning on going to college, aren’t you?” questioned Mrs. Vanderpoel

“I never thought about it.  I just assumed I’d be playing professional baseball.”

“But what about the off season?”  It was Mrs. Vanderpoel’s turn to look puzzled.  “Won’t you need a job when you’re not playing ball?”

“Hmm...I never thought about that.”  Tad twirled his noodles before shoveling them into his mouth.  

“I think you should.  You’re a bright boy, Tad.  You could do anything you set your mind to.”

“Come to think of it, I did do a pretty good job of catching Bull Thompson a couple of weeks ago.  Maybe I should be a cop too.  No, wait!  Trixie Belden and Honey Wheeler are going to be private detectives.  Maybe I could work with them.”

Spider groaned.  “Can’t I have a moment’s peace with you?”

“Sure.  When do you want it?” Tad grinned broadly at his brother.

“Finish up, you two.  There’s a pan of warm brownies in the kitchen,” announced Mrs. Vanderpoel.

Hurriedly scraping the last morsel off his plate, Tad jumped up and began clearing the table, placing the dishes in a sink of hot, sudsy water.  Behind him, Mrs. Vanderpoel smiled at  Spider.

“See. You just have to know how to get through to him.”

“You seem to know the magic words.”

“Now, Spider, there are no magic words.  Tad just needed what all kids need:  a safe home, someone to care about them and good meals.”

“I thought I was giving him that.”  Spider, feeling a wave of disappointment washing over him, looked down at the table.

“You did.  But you couldn’t match the idealized family scene Tad had tucked away in his heart.”

“So no matter how hard I tried….”

Mrs. Vanderpoel shook her head.  “It wouldn’t have met Tad’s unconscious expectation.”

Breathing a sigh of relief, Spider leaned back and tossed his embroidered napkin onto the table.  “Then I’m done trying!”

Mrs. Vanderpoel nodded her head sharply.  “Good.  Now it’s my turn.”

“Be my guest.”  Spider motioned toward the kitchen.  “He’s all yours.”

“Thank you.”  Looking over her shoulder into the kitchen, Mrs Vanderpoel called out, “Tad! Tad!  Let’s have our dessert now.”

“Coming.”  Tad returned to the table, carefully carrying the brownies and a carton of vanilla ice cream.

After cutting three pieces, the Vanderpoel-Webster family celebrated their new alliance by digging into their dessert while they speculated about what the future might hold.

word count - 9565

Author’s notes:  In my opinion, The Mysterious Code left a lot of unanswered questions.  I always wondered why Tad made such an abrupt change in his behavior and attitude.  Thus, the reason for this tale.

A big ‘thank you’ to my sister Judith for her editing.  Title picture is mine, with a nod to the Whitman Publishing Company  and its publishing of Trixie and the Mysterious Code.

Pop- Tart - a brand of toaster pastries that Kellogg Company introduced in 1964.

Coke - a carbonated soft drink invented in the late 19th century.  

Hallmark movie - movies that are full of romance and family togetherness that air on the Hallmark Channel.

UNICEF - The United Nations International Children’s Emergency Fund was created in December 1946 to provide emergency food and healthcare to children in countries that had been devastated during WWII.

background tiles from