This is my Jix Author Initiation chapter.
Jix CWP#8 Elements in PURPLE
~Chapter 14~
On Our Sympathy With the Under Dog
(originally posted January 5, 2008)
Rain and motorcycles don’t mix.
This was the thought that ran through Dan’s mind as he stared grumpily out at the rain. They were probably half an hour from home. Half an hour from a hot meal. Half an hour from a warm bath. Half an hour from making love to his new wife in their new apartment. Half an hour from crawling into bed with her and falling asleep with his arms around her. But right now they were holed up under an overpass, waiting for the sudden summer squall to let up.
Dan stripped off his bright yellow poncho and crumbled it into a ball. He stalked over to his bike and stuffed it into his helmet. It might be all right for a gentle summer drizzle, but it had done little good against the monsoon they had driven into. Dan was pretty much soaked to the skin.
He turned to face Trixie with an apologetic smile. She was leaning up against the guardrail, staring off into space, lost in her thoughts. Her blue poncho, also helpless against the power of the storm, had already been shed and lay pinned under her feet, where she held it fast against the wind that periodically gusted through the overpass.
She looked up at Dan and smiled when she caught him watching her. “What?”
“Sorry,” he mumbled.
“For what? You can’t control the weather, my dear husband.”
Dan’s glum look disappeared instantly. “You're absolutely right, my beloved weef.”
Trixie giggled and patted the railing beside her. “Why don’t you come sit down here by me?”
Dan ambled over and flopped down, putting his arm around Trixie and relishing the feel of her as she cuddled close to his side. He bent his head over to kiss her windblown curls and murmured, “364.”
“What?”
“364 more days until I can tell the world that we’re married.”
Trixie glanced up and down the nearly deserted highway. “Tell the world now, if you want. Who’s to hear?”
Dan scanned the area, sat up a bit straighter and gently pulled free from Trixie’s arms. “You're quite right…again, Mrs. Mangan.”
“Boy, you’ve got that husband thing down pat already,” Trixie smirked.
Dan shoved her playfully and stood up. He walked to the edge of the overpass, feeling a mist of raindrops against his face. Spreading his arms wide, he threw his head back and shouted, “I am the happiest man in the world! Trixie Belden Mangan is my wife and I love her!”
God, that felt good! He let the rain caress his face for a moment more, then turned to Trixie, his smile feeling like it was about to launch itself off his face.
Trixie’s blue eyes danced with joy. Answering the challenge in Dan’s eyes, she stood and walked to the opposite end of the overpass. Here the rain was coming in more directly and within seconds, Trixie’s face was drenched. She flung her arms out and shouted, “I am the happiest woman on earth! Daniel Patrick Mangan is my husband and I love him with all my heart!”
She took one step forward and the rain completed its mission, thoroughly soaking her already dripping curls and running down her neck and inside the back of her shirt. She shivered, but it wasn’t from the wetness. She was just in love with the world.
She turned to share her smile with Dan, but was surprised to see his brow wrinkled and a frown on his face.
“Dan?”
He held up a finger to shush her and tilted his head as if listening. Trixie listened too, but at first all she could hear was the rain and a lone motorist that sped across the road over their heads and passed away into the downpour.
She heard the noise a second or two after Dan did and quickly followed him as he left the shelter of the overpass, climbed over the guardrail and skidded down the slope into the ditch beside the highway.
The rain had made the grass slick and Trixie slipped about halfway down, landing on her backside and sliding the rest of the way down the slope, where Dan’s outstretched arm kept her from tumbling into the rushing water that had suddenly materialized at the bottom. It wasn’t yet deep enough or fast enough to be dangerous, but Trixie was thankful just the same that she wasn’t in it.
She grabbed Dan’s arm and pulled herself up. With a little cry, she pointed to a spot in the high grass behind Dan. There was movement there, and the noise they had heard from above was clearer and more insistent now.
Dan turned and instinctively pushed Trixie behind him. He didn’t know what was hidden in the undergrowth there and until he did, he wasn’t going to put his wife in any unnecessary danger.
For a split second, he forgot who he was married to.
Brushing impatiently past him, Trixie pushed aside the overgrown weeds, some of them coming nearly to her chin, and promptly fell to her knees with a cry of dismay.
Looking over her shoulder, Dan saw a mud-spattered, rain-drenched puppy. It did not run when its hiding place was uncovered, nor did it defend its turf with any growls or snarls. It simply raised its head limply to stare at Dan and Trixie with soft brown eyes and whimpered pathetically. Quickly taking in the situation, Dan noticed that one back leg was skewed in an unnatural direction and there was red mixed in with the brown mud.
As Trixie reached for the puppy, Dan grabbed her arm and held her back. “Careful, Trix.”
“Dan, it’s just a puppy. He’s not going to hurt me.”
“Maybe not out of meanness, but he’s injured, babe. He might bite out of fear.”
Trixie knew Dan was right, but she ached to take the little pup into her arms and soothe its quiet whimperings.
Dan reached into his pocket and pulled out a handkerchief with the initials “DM” stitched on one corner; a birthday gift from Honey several years ago. He twisted it around until he had a binding of sorts, and cautiously reached towards the puppy’s mouth. The little dog made no protest as Dan carefully tied the handkerchief around its muzzle, holding it closed. When he had made certain it was secure, he gently patted the pup’s head and turned to survey the broken back leg. He wished Brian was there.
Trixie echoed Dan’s thoughts, “I wish Brian was here.”
Speaking with more confidence than he felt, Dan said, “We can handle this, Trix. All we need to do is make it secure enough to get him to a vet clinic. We need to make a splint and a bandage of some kind.”
He looked around them. The rain had let up a little, but was still coming down pretty steadily. The rivulet of water in the bottom of the ditch was a steady creek now. There were no trees or bushes nearby and it didn’t seem likely anything like a stick or a branch could be found in the vicinity.
“Wait!” Trixie exclaimed, and without further elaboration, she began scrambling up the slippery, muddy slope. Dan watched her crawl over the guardrail and run back towards the motorcycle. As she disappeared from view, the pup whined in distress.
“I know how you feel, pal,” Dan sighed, “I hate being apart from her too.” He reached out and fondled one of the puppy’s floppy brown ears and offered a weak grin. The little dog didn’t look to be a year old yet, maybe seven or eight months. It was definitely a hound of some type, probably a beagle or beagle mix. The tip of its tail wagged faintly at Dan’s touch before flopping wearily back into the mud.
Dan liked animals, but he’d never had any particular attachment to dogs, maybe because he had never had one as a kid.
“Daddy?”
“Yes, Danny?”
“Tommy Duggan’s dog has puppies.”
Timothy Mangan looked over the breakfast table at his son. His dark eyes, so much like his own, were pleading. “Is that so?”
“Can we have one? Please?”
Timothy looked at his wife, who was standing at the kitchen sink washing the dishes. She turned and raised one rusty eyebrow at him and shrugged. It’s up to you, her green eyes seemed to say, but her lips and jaw were set grimly.
“I don’t think so, Danny.” He hated seeing his little boy’s shoulders slump over in defeat, but they just couldn’t afford to feed another mouth right now. “Maybe next year, when you’re older.”
“But Tommy’s the same age as me, and he’s got FIVE puppies!”
“He won’t have five puppies for long,” his mother reminded him. Taking in his dark, pouting scowl, she added, “There are always puppies to be had, Danny. When things are better around here, we’ll get you one.” She looked to her husband hopefully and added, “I promise.”
Promises were frequently broken in the Mangan household. Things never did get better. His father was killed before the summer was over and he and his mother had had to move to a small apartment, where pets were not allowed.
Trixie returned shortly. She had a plastic bag from an Atlantic City souvenir shop in one hand and was holding one arm close to her stomach, where something bulged slightly under her damp shirt.
Dan held out his arms to halt her rapid descent down the slick grass. She dropped to her knees near the puppy and unceremoniously dumped the contents of the bag onto the highest, and therefore she hoped driest, spot she could find, hovering over them to shelter them from the rain. Scuttling through a hodgepodge of souvenir spoons, postcards, magnets, and floaty pens, she triumphantly pulled forth a thick, foot-long pencil. It had been her mission to find Mart the tackiest souvenir she could find and Dan was certain she had succeeded. The pencil sported a dozen different fluorescent colors and proclaimed, “Atlantic City! Always Turned On!” in glittering gold letters. A scantily clad showgirl shook her wares from a pom-pom that bounced from the eraser.
Sorry, Mart, Dan thought, as he took the pencil and snapped it in half. Sally will probably thank me when she finds out. He tore off the showgirl and handed her back to Trixie with a grin. “Want to hang onto Miss Ooh La La?” Trixie threw her and the other souvenirs back into the bag.
Carefully, Dan moved the puppy’s broken limb into a position that looked right. The pup cried out a little, but sat still, its head resting in Trixie’s hands. Dan laid half of the improvised splint against each side of the leg and Trixie handed him a couple of her hair scrunchies to secure it. Then she reached under her shirt and pulled out a relatively dry and clean t-shirt, which Dan wrapped around the leg and the splint.
Lastly, Trixie handed him a few strips of a light, cotton material. As Dan tied them around the bandage, he noticed the delicate eyelets on them and realized it was from the hem of Trixie’s white sundress; the one she had worn when they got married. “Trixie, you tore up your wedding dress?”
Trixie shrugged and smiled. “It’s not like I won’t get another one next year.” She stared at him, blue eyes twinkling. “What? Did you think I would save that dress for our daughter? No self-respecting daughter of mine is getting married in a tawdry Atlantic City chapel!”
Dan laughed and tousled her damp hair, shaking more water all over them. Taking off his jacket, he carefully picked up the puppy and wrapped him in it, then handed the bundle to Trixie. “You carry him. I can steady you up that hill better than you can steady me.”
Trixie began her slow, awkward way up out of the ditch, Dan’s strong hands against her back to keep her from falling. When they were safely back on the shoulder of the highway again, Trixie handed the bundled animal back to Dan and ran to the motorcycle, where she pulled out her cell phone and prayed she’d be able to get a signal out there in the rain, in the middle of nowhere.
“Information? Hi, I’m heading north on 87; I think we’re about half an hour south of Albany. We’ve got an injured dog and I need to find the closest vet clinic.” She listened and bit her lip anxiously. “No, I don’t know what mile marker we’re at.” She looked to Dan, but he shrugged ruefully. He didn’t pay attention to things like that when he was driving.
In the next instant, Dan could almost see the light bulb go on over her head. She ran to the opposite end of the overpass, tucking the phone into her sleeve to keep it from getting wet. She ran out and turned her eyes up to the bridge overhead, blinking them furiously against the rain that tried to block her vision. She was looking for a sign that would indicate the name of the road above them. She came back underneath the overpass, pulled the phone out of her sleeve and told the operator, “We’re at an overpass under Martins Hill Road. Does that help?”
It must have, because Trixie smiled and said thank you, then carefully repeated out loud the directions she was given before hanging up. Between her and Dan, hopefully they’d remember how to get to the clinic.
Trixie got on the bike and put on her helmet. Her poncho had long since blown away, but she didn’t think she could be any wetter than she already was anyway. She held out her hands and Dan placed the bundle in her arms before donning his poncho, mounting the bike in front of Trixie and putting on his own helmet. “You okay?” he asked over his shoulder, and Trixie nodded, one hand on his waist, the other holding the puppy securely against Dan’s back. Dan’s handkerchief had loosened a little, and when a tiny pink tongue darted out gratefully against Trixie’s cheek, her heart melted.
They found the clinic with little difficulty, about five miles up the highway, and another six or seven off the exit. It wasn’t a 24-hour emergency clinic, but good fortune was smiling on them through the low, grey clouds. The vet had stopped by that afternoon to check on a high-maintenance patient and was still there when Dan and Trixie knocked frantically on the front door.
The woman in the white lab coat who opened the door looked to be in her mid-forties, with a cap of smooth brown hair, cut trimly just below her ears. A pair of narrow, horn-rimmed eyeglasses with tortoiseshell frames hung from a gold chain around her neck. When she raised them and peered through them at the soggy pair on her doorstep, she looked more like a spinster school teacher than a veterinarian; but the blue stitching above her breast pocket informed them that she was indeed Dr. Bronwyn Meyrick, D.V.M.
Trixie’s words began tumbling from her mouth as she attempted to explain the situation, but it was the puppy’s little black nose poking out from Dan’s jacket that caught Dr. Meyrick’s attention. She immediately beckoned them into the office and steered them towards the examination room behind the reception area. Dan quietly and calmly explained all that had happened, even as Trixie continued to babble on in agitation.
Once the pup had been placed on the table, Dan gently laid a hand on Trixie’s shoulder and almost immediately she settled down. They watched as Dr. Meyrick performed her initial examination, staying out of the way as she bustled about the small room gathering supplies and instruments.
Finally, she peered at them over her glasses, “I’ll need to set this leg and I’m the only one here today. Are either of you squeamish?”
They both shook their heads, Trixie so vehemently that raindrops were flung from her hair onto Dr. Meyrick’s lenses. The lady vet had been serious and stern to that point, but now she smiled at them. “In the kennel closet, you’ll find some towels you can dry off with. Wash your hands thoroughly after that and come back here.” She pointed them in the direction of the kennel.
When they went through the door to the kennel, a noisy chorus of animal voices greeted them. Mostly dogs and cats, but there was also a sow pig and her litter and one rather rotund goat, who continued to bleat at them even after the rest of the menagerie had settled down. Dan pulled a couple of towels out of the closet and they hastily dried off.
Trixie peered over in the direction of the closet. “Has she got an extra pair of pants in there by any chance?” She had squatted, slid, and sprawled in the muck and mire so many times that she now had a pretty good idea what a baby with a full diaper felt like.
Dan grinned at her. “After we help Dr. Meyrick, I’ll run out to the bike and get your bag. ‘Til then, you’ll just have to chafe.”
“Is there at least a window I can stick my butt out?” she laughed. “Maybe I can air dry a little.”
“BAHHHH!” answered the goat.
“Oh, you just hush...” Trixie retorted, leaning down to scan the card on the gate, “...Misty!”
“The goat’s name is Misty?”
“No, the goat’s name is actually Twist O’ The Mist, if you can believe that,” Trixie snorted, rolling her eyes.
Dan apparently didn’t, because he came over to inspect the name card himself. He chuckled and scratched the goat between the eyes, which earned him a more contented “Bah” from Twist O’ The Mist.
As dry as they were going to be for the time being, Dan and Trixie washed their hands in the sink with a bar of soap that smelled strongly of disinfectant before they returned to the exam room. Dr. Meyrick had sedated the puppy and hooked up an i.v. to replenish lost fluids. She had laid out the supplies and instruments she’d need to set the leg and place it in a cast and she now motioned Dan to her side to assist her, instructing Trixie to stay near the dog’s head and watch for any signs of discomfort or physical distress.
Trixie’s mind wandered as Dr. Meyrick did her work.
Bobby was sobbing hysterically. “I w-w-wanted to c-c-come with you, Trixie! An’ – an’ so did R-R-Reddy! An’ now he’s d-d-dead!”
Trixie knelt down and wrapped her arms around the terrified little boy. “Hush, Bobby. It’s okay. Reddy’s okay,” she crooned, looking questioningly at Brian.
Brian was examining the Irish setter’s front leg, which was bent and bloody.
“I think it’s just a broken leg,” he said, “but we’d better get him to the vet right away.”
It was a scary night for the Belden family, but luckily, it had been just a broken leg and their harum-scarum setter had made a quick recovery and bounced back to his spoiled, undisciplined self.
Trixie recalled that, along with herself, Brian, and Bobby, Mart and Honey had also been there, and the high school drama teacher, Eileen Darcy, who had been the one who had accidentally hit Reddy with her car. Trixie, Brian and Miss Darcy had taken Reddy to Dr. Samet’s. The vet’s office had received numerous phone calls inquiring after Reddy’s condition, and several visits were made by the Beldens and the B.W.G.’s before Reddy was allowed to return home.
So why was this puppy all alone? He was wandering alone by the highway. Whoever had struck him with their car hadn’t even stopped. He was out there for who knows how long before the rain had started. Hadn’t anybody been looking for him?
“There. That’ll do it,” Dr. Meyrick pronounced. “She’ll probably be out for awhile, but I’ll come back this evening to check on her.”
“Her?” Trixie asked with mild surprise.
Dr. Meyrick smiled, “Yes, her.”
Dan gently patted the puppy’s behind. “Sorry, little girl. We’ve both been calling you ‘he’ since we found you.”
Dr. Meyrick ushered them into her office and offered them something to drink. She explained what was likely to happen over the next few days with the puppy and the care she was going to need to heal properly.
Looking somewhat sheepish Dan said, “We’re on our way back to Albany from vacation. I’m afraid we pretty much maxed out the credit card, but we can send you some money later this week to help cover the costs.”
Dr. Meyrick waved it off, “Don’t worry about it. Maybe we’ll find her owner before then. If not, I’m sure I can manage.” She noticed the determined look in both pairs of eyes and quickly added, “But if you want to send something, I will be happy to accept it. A small town vet clinic like this can always use it.”
Trixie nodded in understanding. “We had a couple of fund raisers for our vet clinic back home. It’s hard for places like that to get the newest equipment sometimes.”
Dr. Meyrick looked questioningly at her. ”I thought you were from Albany?”
“We live there now,” Dan replied. “But we’re actually from Sleepyside.”
“Sleepyside is a lovely town. What made you move to the city?”
Trixie had the feeling Dr. Meyrick was not fond of big cities or those who chose to live there. “School,” she answered. “Dan’s working for the Albany Police Department.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah, I kind of had a rough childhood, so I always wanted to go into law enforcement. Try to make a difference and all that.”
After a solemn pause, Dr. Meyrick answered, “Well, I sincerely hope you do.”
Dan saw the all-too-familiar look of curiosity on Trixie’s face and hastily changed the subject. “The puppy was all alone out there. How will you find her owner?”
“Did she have any identification on her?” Dr. Meyrick asked.
Trixie shook her head. “Not even a collar.”
“Well, I’ll scan her for a microchip later, but it’s possible she was just dumped off somewhere. She looks to be pretty small for her age. Could be she was the runt and some farmer or hunter was just looking for a quick way to dump her. Or the kids are heading back to school and suddenly the puppy that seemed so cute a few months ago is now too much work.”
Trixie gasped in shock, “People don’t really do that, do they? Why? There must be a hundred little boys and girls who would love to have a puppy of their own.”
Yeah, Dan thought regretfully, suddenly wondering if Tommy Duggan’s puppies had all found good homes in the poor neighborhood he grew up in.
Dr. Meyrick shrugged. “You’d be amazed. Some folks think it’s just easier to dump them off somewhere. They don’t want to be given a guilt trip for turning an unwanted pet over to the humane society, admitting that they can’t take care of it – or don’t want to.
“It really pushes my buttons when people think bringing a pet into their home is like bringing in a book or a couch – when they’re tired of it or it no longer fits into their routine, they just get rid of it. If more people would consider pets as part of the family, the world would be a better place. You don’t get rid of your child just because it has an accident on the new carpeting.”
She looked over at Dan and Trixie and reddened a little. “I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to get up on my soapbox. I have issues.”
Dan noticed she had said the word without the “sh” sound. Was it a lisp or an accent showing itself in her fervor for the topic? He hadn’t noticed any speech impediment prior to this, but now he wondered if Dr. Meyrick had gravitated towards animals due to the childhood pain of dealing with a handicap like that. And he wondered if he might have avoided a lot of his own childhood pain if he had had a dog when he was a boy.
Glancing out the window, he noticed it had stopped raining at last. “Trixie, I hate to say it, but we’d better get back on the road before the storm starts up again.”
Reluctantly, Trixie nodded. Turning to Dr. Meyrick she asked, “Can we call and check in on her?”
“Of course,” Dr. Meyrick said, handing Trixie a business card. The young man and woman standing before her were not what she thought they’d be when they roared up her driveway on a motorcycle and came dripping to her door. They had stopped to rescue the puppy, in and of itself a small miracle. They had gone out of their way to get her medical help, had stayed to help set the leg, had offered money to help pay the bills, and now wanted to follow up and make sure she was okay. Remember this, Bronwyn, she thought to herself. Not all young folks go to the city and end up in bad places. She waved goodbye as they rode away and went back to check on the puppy.
She barely glanced at the photo in the hallway of the smiling youngster who proudly clutched a trophy in one arm and a wriggling puppy in the other.
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“I’ve got the story on the goat!”
Dan took off his jacket as he came in the door and flashed Trixie a bewildered smile, “Nice to see you too. What story on what goat? And why aren’t you at school?”
Trixie gave him a quick kiss and answered, “Twist O’ The Mist! The goat at Dr. Meyrick’s clinic.”
Dan did not fail to notice that she hadn’t answered his other question. “Oh...that goat, of course. Don’t you want to know how my first day went?”
Trixie looked abashed. “Of course I do, Dan! I’m sorry. I was just excited.”
“You? Excited? Never!” He took her into his arms and kissed her soundly then sat down on the couch, pulling his adorable wife into his lap.
“So?” Trixie prodded.
“So, what?”
Trixie cuffed him lightly on his temple. “Your first day, doofus.”
“Oh. Well, now I want to hear about the goat.”
Trixie gave him a dirty look and got up off his lap. “I don’t have time for this Daniel. I have to go to work myself. You have time for one story. Do you want to tell me the inspiring story of the first day of your long-awaited career in law enforcement? Or do you want to hear a stupid story about a stupid goat with a stupid name that we’ll never see again?”
Dan pretended to think it over. “The goat.”
“Dan!” Trixie had already started running around the living room looking for her shoes, her purse, and her phone before she left for work. “I'm going to miss my bus!”
“If you’re this rushed, then it’s definitely got to be the goat story. I can tell you about my day over dinner.”
Trixie stopped to put her heels on. “Are you sure? I want to be your supportive wife.”
“Yes, I’m sure. Now puh-lease!” he begged in mock exasperation, “In the name of all that's holy, tell me about the goat.”
While she stood at the hallway mirror and ran a brush through her hair, Trixie explained that she had called Dr. Meyrick to check on the puppy, “She’s doing great, by the way, but no clues to her ownership. Dr. Meyrick is going to post a notice at the clinic and put an ad in the paper this week. So anyway, I could hear the goat bleating in the background and you know I just had to ask about the name. Turns out, she’s a champion show goat!”
“People show goats?” Dan asked, perplexed.
“Of course. 4-H, county fairs, that sort of thing.” She stopped to stare at him before applying a thin coat of lip gloss. “You really are a city boy, aren’t you? Didn’t any of Mr. Maypenny rub off on you?”
Without waiting for his reply, she went on, “Anyway, the owners of said goat are apparently very wealthy and very odd. Even your average state fair champion goat isn’t normally given a name more extravagant than Billy or Nanny. But they dote on Misty – I was right about the nickname, see? – like she’s their child, which is kind of scary if you ask me. So, she’s at the clinic because she’s expecting her first kid – their grandkid, I guess,” Trixie giggled. “Apparently, they don’t think it’s proper to put a champion show goat out in a barn or a meadow and let nature take its course. Misty’s owners are about driving Dr. Meyrick batty, calling her every couple of hours to check on their precious baby. Seriously, they couldn’t have gotten a goldfish or something? So, I told Mart about it and guess what he said?”
“Wait a minute. You told Mart this story? I thought you just heard it.”
“No, I called Dr. Meyrick first thing this morning. I just got off the phone with Mart a little while before you came home.”
Dan again wondered why she hadn’t been at school, but decided he could ask her about that later. She was already pulling on a lightweight jacket and gathering her things to leave for work.
“So what did Mart say? Anything I’ll need a translator for?”
Trixie started giggling, “Actually, it wasn’t what he said, it’s what he sang. He came up with a verse right off the top of his head for Twist O’ The Mist and her crazy owners. He was singing it to the Oompa-Loompa song from Charlie and the Chocolate Factory.” Half giggling, half singing terribly off-key, Trixie managed to squeak out, “Who do you blame when your kid is a goat?” before bursting into uncontrollable laughter.
“You’re going to have to call him and ask him to sing it for you,” she gasped. “If I don’t leave right now, I'll miss my bus.” She leaned over and kissed him quickly. “See you at dinner!”
And she was gone.
Dan leaned back on the couch, trying to process Hurricane Beatrix. It was no use. He was too tired. Being low-man on the totem pole at his new job, he had drawn the overnight shift to start. And even though he was dog-tired when he finished his 12-hour shift at 9:00 that morning, he had stuck around to have breakfast with his partner, Dexter Sloan, a 12-year veteran of the APD.
He would have come home if he had known Trixie would be there waiting for him. He thought she had classes all morning. Why would she have missed her first day of the semester?
He kicked off his shoes and stretched out full-length on the couch, his feet sticking up over the arm. He was too tired to solve this mystery. Solving mysteries was Trixie’s job anyway. Why was she creating one?
He turned his head to the coffee table, looking for the t.v. remote. He wasn’t expecting anything good to be on at 11:00 on a Monday morning, but he wanted the background noise to lull him to sleep. The remote was laying on a stack of books and he turned on his side and reached for it.
The book on top was the novel Trixie had taken with her to the Jersey Shore, Lucy Radcliffe: Rendezvous in Rome. On the bottom was Niagara Falls: A Guide for Tourists. Crap! Dan realized the library book was overdue. They had checked it out when considering their vacation options. Ironically, they had rejected Niagara Falls because as Trixie said, “It’s where people go to get married and honeymoon. Atlantic City will be more fun.”
But it was the book between these two that caught his eye. Shoving aside the Lucy book he saw U.S. Treasury Enforcement Agent Exam. A business card was sticking out of the top of it and when Dan pulled it out he saw the name “Special Agent Ethan Colby” and the address and phone number of the Albany Field Office.
What in the hell is she up to? Dan wondered with a groan.
Knowing he wouldn’t get a wink of sleep now, and needing some way to distract himself, Dan decided to call Mart and ask to hear the Oompa-Loompa song.
*******************************************
When Trixie came home that evening, the first thing she noticed was Dan’s favorite jazz album playing on the stereo. The second thing she noticed was the tantalizing smell of Xinglong’s drifting in from the kitchen.
The third thing she noticed was her copy of U.S. Treasury Enforcement Agent Exam laying in plain sight on the coffee table, with Agent Colby’s business card sticking out of the top of it.
“Shoot!” she hissed. She picked up the book and shoved it under one of the couch cushions. Kicking off her shoes near the door, she wandered over to the kitchen. When she peeped through the swinging door she had the pleasure of coming directly into eye contact with Dan’s backside. He was leaning over checking on the food warming in the oven. His favorite pair of jeans – Trixie’s too – were worn in all the right spots and fit snugly over his lean frame. Trixie gave him a low wolf whistle.
The sound made Dan turn around with a grin. “Hi, you,” he murmured, opening his arms for Trixie to fall into.
“Hi yourself, my handsome husband,” she returned, giving him a long, slow kiss.
“I made dinner.”
“Really? It smells suspiciously like Xinglong’s.” She reached behind him to the counter and picked up a bag with the restaurant’s logo imprinted on it, waving it accusingly in Dan’s face.
“No keeping a secret from you, Trix. You should work for the government or something.”
Trixie flushed and pulled away, dropping the bag back on the counter. “I’m going to go change and I’ll be right down.”
“Okay, babe. I’ll be right here; ready to be at your...service.” She turned her head so fast to look back at him, he was afraid she may have given herself whiplash. He flashed his most charming smile, then chuckled as she turned bright red and scurried from the room.
He wasn’t mad at Trixie for keeping this from him...whatever it was that she was keeping from him. First of all, he could recall that she had already tried to tell him more than once. Secondly, he knew she wouldn’t keep it from him forever. And thirdly, well...it was just so much fun tormenting her.
All through dinner he quietly emphasized the words “secret”, “service”, and “treasury” whenever he could work them into the tale of his first day at work. It was no small chore to keep an impassive face either, because he hit the nail on the head every single time. Trixie dropped her chopsticks, choked on an egg roll, spilled the soy sauce, or spit out a mouthful of rice every time Dan played one of his cards. She’d be a rotten poker player, he thought, holding back a grin.
His first day on the force had been pretty uneventful, mostly orientation and observing and listening as his partner Dexter Sloan showed him the ropes. Their most exciting call of the evening was the investigation of a false fire alarm in a downtown hotel, but that had turned out to be purely accidental. A woman from a book club, who had been conversing with her friends in the hallway, had merely been “curious” she explained to the officers sheepishly. No harm had been done, so no charges were pressed.
“I think the woman was a little disappointed we didn’t take her in. She was swooning all over Dex,” Dan chuckled. “Anyway, no secret plots. The alarm service was restored and that was the end of it.” Dan shrugged, hiding another grin behind his napkin as Trixie sopped up her spilled tea from the tablecloth.
After they had finished eating and cleaned up the kitchen, Dan casually suggested they watch a movie. “I don’t have to leave for work until about 8:30, so we’ve got time. How about In The Line of Fire? Or would you rather watch Air Force One?”
Trixie stared hard at him, but Dan didn’t flinch. “Too much action,” she finally mumbled. “I think I need something lighter tonight.”
“Guarding Tess?” Dan suggested, pulling it out of the video cabinet and holding it up. But he snickered a little that time, trying to cover by clearing his throat.
Trixie’s eyes narrowed. “Are you toying with me, Daniel?”
“Why, yes, as a matter of fact, I am. Do you have something you’d like to share with me, Mrs. Mangan?”
Trixie’s eyes gleamed mischievously as she shrugged and flopped down on the couch. “Not particularly.”
Quick as a cat, Dan dropped the movie on the floor, hurtled over the coffee table and pinned her to the couch. His fingers waggled tauntingly just above her knees and she screamed out, “Don’t you dare!”
“Are you going to tell me your secret?”
“Never!”
His fingers moved closer and she shrieked louder. “All right, all right! I’ve been with the CIA since I was ten years old. I’m a highly-trained political assassin and if you move your fingers one inch closer to my knees I’m going to have to inflict some serious hurt on you!”
He poked one finger at her left knee. “I don’t think so, Beatrix. Try again.”
Trixie tried to wriggle free, but she was laughing too hard. Finally, she gasped out, “Okay, I give. I’ll tell you. But please let me get up.”
Dan got off her and pulled her up to a sitting position. She faced him and took his hands in hers. Looking very seriously into his eyes, she took a deep breath and said somberly, “The truth is...I’m pregnant.”
But Dan had already discovered she was a lousy bluffer. “That's it!” he shouted as he threw her back down on the couch and began tickling her as she shrieked with laughter. “I want a divorce!”
The tickling soon turned into kissing and it wasn’t long before both Dan and Trixie had nearly forgotten the topic at hand. Finally, Trixie broke breathlessly away from Dan and asked, “Do you want me to tell you? Or do you already know everything?”
“I know nothing, babe. You left your book on the table. It and the business card are the extent of my knowledge on this mystery. Other than your horrible poker face, of course.”
“What book?” Trixie asked, shooting a glance at the coffee table before batting her wide blue eyes innocently at Dan.
“The one you shoved under the couch cushions before you came into the kitchen," he snickered as Trixie turned beet red.
“For all you know, that could be a library book that I just wanted to read.”
“You wanted to read a civil service examination? For fun?” Dan stared at her in disbelief.
Trixie sighed. “Okay, first of all I want you to know I wasn’t keeping this from you on purpose. In fact, I did try to tell you a couple of times in the past week.”
“I know. That’s why I’m not mad.”
“Secondly, I didn’t go looking for this trouble. It came looking for me.”
“Okay,” Dan replied, though he didn’t sound entirely convinced of the truth of this statement.
“So, last spring there was a special presentation in one of my forensics classes. These two guys who work for the U.S. Treasury gave a lecture on counterfeiting and the forensics related to it and so forth and so on. It was really interesting, actually.”
“Why haven’t I heard about this before?”
Trixie looked upset. “It happened right before finals.” It wasn’t her final exams that was the important point in this tale, but the fact that they had had their first real fight during that time. Everything had turned out okay, but Trixie still hated to bring up that period of time in any context. She often wondered if those feelings of guilt would ever go away.
“Oh,” was all Dan said; but he gave her a small, comforting smile. The past was past. They were married now and that was all that mattered.
Encouraged, Trixie went on. “Anyway, after class Professor Sanderson asked me and a couple of other students to stick around. He wanted to personally introduce us to these two agents, because we were the top students in our class.”
Dan smiled at her.
“What?”
“You’re one of the top students in your class.”
“Not of my whole graduating class, Dan, just this particular forensics class.”
“Still.”
Trixie flushed with pleasure. She wasn’t accustomed to receiving praise for her scholastic pursuits, even though taking courses that actually interested her had made her a much better student than she was in high school. “Anyway, I got to talking with Agent Colby and he’s the one who suggested I take this exam.”
“Don’t you need a degree to work for the government?”
“Actually, no. For the U.S. Treasury they require either a bachelor’s degree, or three years’ work experience, or a combination of education and experience. So...” She shrugged, as if that explained it all.
But Dan didn’t understand. “Your part-time work at the law office counts as work experience for the U.S. Treasury?”
“No, but when I told Agent Colby about some of my...cases...” It sounded silly saying that now that she was grown up.
“I didn’t realize that would count as work experience, Trix. You weren’t exactly on the Sleepyside PD payroll.” His eyes gleamed as he imagined Trixie receiving a weekly paycheck from a highly disgruntled Sgt. Molinson.
“No, but I was just a teenager and some of those cases were really serious, not to mention relevant to the Treasury Department. Like the gun runners in Mississippi, the counterfeiting ring and the jewel smugglers in Sleepyside, and even the money laundering scheme you and I helped break up in White Plains.
“Anyway, Agent Colby didn’t say it was a sure thing; he just told me I should take the exam and see what happens.”
“And?”
“And I did.”
“And what happened?”
Trixie shrugged. “I don’t know. I had a couple of interviews this summer, but they didn’t say anything about the exam results. I was supposed to hear something by September 1st.”
“You took the exam in...?”
“June.”
“And you had interviews – plural – this summer?”
Trixie put her face in her hands and groaned. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, Dan. I just didn’t want everybody to know if I failed, which I probably did.”
“It’s not that, babe. I mean, you did all this months ago, and you haven’t heard anything for sure. Why didn’t you just sign up for fall classes as usual if you didn’t think you’d get in?”
“I don’t know. I’m stupid. Now I’ll be a semester behind and it’ll be that much longer until I can apply again. They won’t accept me. I don’t have a degree, I don’t have any real experience, and I’m young and female to boot.”
Dan pulled her to him and hugged her. “But I love rooting for the underdog. You’ve got to stop being down on yourself. You’re not stupid. In fact, you’re brilliant; you just couldn’t comprehend them not wanting you.”
“Great,” Trixie mumbled against Dan’s chest, “so now I’m arrogant.”
Dan kissed the top of her head. “So you don’t get in this time. No biggie. You’re only losing one semester.”
“That’s easy for you to say. You graduated in three and a half years. Brian and Jim graduated in three. Mart was in Africa for three years and he’s already almost caught up with school and will probably get his degree soon. Honey and Di will graduate next spring and I’ll be a semester behind and feel like a dunce.”
“You're not a dunce, Trixie. And you don’t even know that you’ll need to be back in school anyway. They could still call. September 1st is tomorrow.”
“They said they’d call by the first.”
“So they could still call tonight. In fact...” Dan brought his fingers up and began rubbing intense circles against his temples. He crinkled up his brow and appeared to be concentrating heavily as he hummed a wordless mantra. Trixie laughed softly and rolled her eyes.
And then the electronic melody of the James Bond theme song was heard from the phone lying on the coffee table. Dan’s eyes popped open in surprise.
“How did you do that?” Trixie gasped.
“I don’t know.” Dan stared at his fingers for a moment. “I wonder what other magical powers I have.” He moved them leeringly towards Trixie.
Trixie shoved his waggling fingers away and reached over to grab her phone. “It’s probaby just Mart. He probably has another couple of verses all penned for the goat song.”
Dan chuckled. “Yeah, I heard it this afternoon. Trust me, when I tell you it’s getting worse as it goes. You wouldn’t believe how many words rhyme with g–“ He stopped.
Trixie had scrambled up from her seat on the couch and was now staring at the display in shock. “It’s not Mart. It’s a 202 area code.”
“That’s D.C., babe.” When Trixie just continued staring, he shouted, “Well, answer it!”
Shaking herself from her trance and taking a deep breath to steady her nerves, Trixie flipped open her phone and answered, “Trixie Belden.” With a smile at Dan, she mouthed, “Mangan.”
She turned away. She couldn’t keep a straight face if her life depended upon it, but her voice was even as she spoke. “Yes, sir...I understand.”
Did her shoulders slump? Dan stared hard at her, trying to read her body language. Jeepers, she more than made up for her lousy poker face with her voice and posture. He couldn’t tell anything. He stood up, wondering if a hand on her shoulder would help or make things worse.
“Yes, sir...Yes...Okay...No, that’s fine...Okay, then...Yes, sir...I’ll be there...next Tuesday.” She hung up the phone and turned to her husband, whose smile was only a smidgen less dazzling than her own. “I’m in!”
Trixie flung herself at Dan and he picked her up and twirled her around. “See? I knew it! How could they not want the famous Trixie Belden helping them fight international crime?”
“That’s Trixie Belden Mangan, mister,” she scolded, squeezing him tightly.
They celebrated with a spirited kissing frenzy for a moment, and then Trixie sobered. “Are you sure you’re okay with this?”
“Of course, I am. Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Well, I haven’t told you about the training course yet.”
Dan didn’t look happy, but bravely said, “Lay it on me, babe.”
“It’s 11 weeks...”
“That’s not so bad. The academy was six months.”
“...in Georgia.”
Slowly, Dan dropped Trixie to her feet. “You see, that’s the kind of thing you might have wanted to start out with when we first started talking about this.”
“Do you want me to turn them down?”
“No, of course not! But you have to admit that six months of seeing each other only on weekends was rough on us. And now you’re talking three months and we might not see each other at all.” Dan sighed. “I’m sure we’ll live though. Maybe with my four days on, four days off schedule, I can get a long weekend away now and then and try to fly down to see you.”
Trixie’s brow was still wrinkled fretfully and Dan smiled to reassure her. “It’ll be fine, babe. It’s only three months.”
Trixie only looked up at him, with her lips pressed tightly together, and said nothing.
“What?” Dan asked warily.
“If I make it through that, there’s another 12-week course in Virginia before I can graduate.”
Dan ran a hand through his hair in agitation and moved away from Trixie towards the kitchen.
“Are you mad, Dan?”
“Well, yeah...a little.”
Trixie stared hard at him.
“Okay, a lot. No, a medium amount. This is a big thing, Trix. I wish you would have discussed it with me. This is what married couples do...discuss.”
“Well, to be fair, we weren’t married when I started this thing. We weren’t even engaged.”
Dan stared down at floor, growling under his breath, but Trixie heard him. “I’m sorry, Dan.”
Dan looked heavenward in frustration. “Well, I knew what I was getting into, didn’t I? I knew from the moment I first kissed you. I have no one to blame but myself.”
Trixie looked hurt for a minute, until a broad smile slowly slid its way across Dan’s face and she knew he was teasing her.
“We can probably still get an annulment,” she suggested with a grin.
“Not a chance. I love you way too much. Plus, I've got a bet to win.” He came back to her and pulled her close to him. “I’ll just have to put up with your impetuous, bullheaded, independent nature.”
“You know, I’d try to change, really I would,” Trixie said earnestly, “but then I’m afraid I wouldn’t be the same girl you fell in love with.”
“It’s a vicious circle, all right,” Dan agreed. He studied her contrite expression for a moment, then set his jaw and continued, “You know, I have to believe that people can change. I know I did. But as an officer of the law, I also believe that the threat of harsher penalties would do more to deter criminals. Get tough on crime, you know.” He tried to look stern, even as his dark eyes shimmered with mirth.
Trixie made a face. “I suppose you think I should be severely punished to try and prevent any recurrence of this kind of behavior?”
“Indeed, I do, Mrs. Mangan.”
“And just what did you have in mind?” Trixie asked, trying not to smile too much.
“I believe I will have to carry you upstairs...pin you down on the bed...”
“I’m not sure this is going to do much to deter my criminal actions, officer.”
“...and sing Mart’s Oompah-Loompah song to you until I have to leave for work.”
“Oh, lord! You wouldn’t?”
In answer, Dan picked her up effortlessly and flung her over his shoulder – the better to spank her behind – and made his way to the staircase singing, “Who is to blame when your wife is a loon? Driving you crazy from midnight ‘til noon? She’s gonna get her comeupance real soon! She’ll soon be singing a different tune!”
And despite her giggles, Trixie managed to join him for the chorus, “Oompa, Loompa, doom-pa-dee-do, I have a perfect puzzle for you. Oompa, Loompa, doom-pa-dee-dee, if you are wise, you'll listen to me.”
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AUTHOR'S NOTES
CHAPTER 14 (8,511 words)
I'm a Jix Author! I cannot tell you how proud and happy I am! Thank you to Cathy for providing such a wonderful cyber home for so many talented writers! I will do my best to be worthy of my new title! Thank you to all my Trixie friends who have posted comments on my stories and supported my writing adventure and encouraged me to become a Jix Author! And special thanks to Heather and Annette, who not only edit for me, but are just tremendously great and supportive fans and friends! This chapter is a submission for CWP #8. It really wasn't planned that way, but I'm tickled that my "rush" CWP is the one that was inspired by my first Trixie Camp as well! The elements (shown in purple within the body of the story) are:
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someone with "issues" (pronounced with sharp S instead of sh. Iss-ues): The vet has a lisp or an odd accent.
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a fire alarm being set off by accident: Story from Dan's first day on the police force.
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someone saying "Is there at least a window I can stick my butt out?": Trixie, trying to dry off at the vet clinic.
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Twist o'the Mist (as a phrase, a place, a off, pretty much anything!): Name of the goat in the vet clinic.
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someone with a story about a goat: Trixie relates the story Dr. Meyrick told her.
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blue or yellow rain ponchos: Trixie and Dan have them at the beginning of the chapter.
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someone (or someones) singing the "Oompa Loompa" theme song: Mart improvises a verse when he hears the goat story, as does Dan at the end of the chapter.
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floaty pens (those souvenir pens that you tilt one way and some novelty thing floats down): One of the souvenirs Trixie empties out of the bag.
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the book tie-in - any book with "Niagara Falls" or "New York" in the title: Niagara Falls: A Guide for Tourists, in Dan and Trixie's apartment.
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carryover item: From CWP #7 - bad weather (storms at the beginning of the chapter).
I have taken an excerpt from The Mystery of the Velvet Gown, without permission, of course. My apologies.
Please note that I know absolutely zilch about emergency medical treatment of animals or humans. Any errors made should not be blamed on Dan and Trixie, but on me. *g*
Lucy Radcliffe: Rendezvous in Rome was made up by me. To my knowledge, the only actual Lucy Radcliffe titles ever mentioned in the Trixie Belden series were Adventure in Paris and Mission in Munich (from The Mystery of the Ghostly Galleon) and I tried to create a title along the same theme
Niagara Falls: A Guide for Tourists is real. Got it off of Amazon.
U.S. Treasury Enforcement Agent Exam is a real book, and as you might expect from a book detailing a governmental agency examination, it is exceedingly dull. Some of the test questions were ridiculously easy too, which makes me question the quality of employees of this department...or maybe I just missed my chance, as the maximum age for entry into the program is 37. Rats! Missed it by one year!
In the Line of Fire, Air Force One, and Guarding Tess are all movies that prominently feature the U.S. Secret Service.
The cases Trixie makes reference to are related in the books Mystery on the Mississippi, The Mystery Off Old Telegraph Road, and The Mystery of the Velvet Gown. The White Plains money laundering case? Well, I made that one up. Maybe a chapterette in the future?
The qualifications Trixie mentions came right off the Secret Service website, www.secretservice.gov, which states in part: “Applicants should have [1] a bachelor's degree from an accredited college or university; or [2] three years of work experience in the criminal investigations or law enforcement fields that required knowledge and application of laws relating to criminal violations; or [3] an equivalent combination of education and related experience.”
The training program mentioned was also taken directly from the above website: “New agent trainees are initially sent to the Federal Law Enforcement Training Center (FLETC) in Glynco, Georgia, where they are enrolled in the Criminal Investigator Training Program (CITP). This 11-week course, designed to train new federal investigators in such areas as criminal law and investigative techniques, provides a general foundation for the agency-specific training that follows. Upon successful completion of CITP, new agent trainees attend the 16-week Special Agent Training Course at the Secret Service training academy, outside of Washington, D.C. This course focuses on specific Secret Service policies and procedures associated with the dual responsibilities of investigations and protection.” However, I will be taking artistic license with the length of the second half of the program. I have other plans for Trixie that will preclude a 16-week training course. *g*
Most of the information I have about the Secret Service comes from a book I got at the library: The Secret Service: The Hidden History of an Enigmatic Agency. Fairly interesting book, if you can get past all the highly annoying typos. Any factual errors I have made should be blamed on me, not the book. You can blame the typos on the book's editor and/or author. ::rolls eyes:: It's one thing to have these in a for-fun fanfic (they still drive me crazy ... especially when they're mine!), but for something you're getting paid to publish, I expect a lot better. All right, I'm off my soapbox now.
If there actually is a Special Agent Ethan Colby, in the Albany Field Office or elsewhere, it is completely a coincidence. I chose the name from my two favorite Survivor contestants (Africa winner and Australia runner-up), both quite the hotties. The Secret Service does have a field office in Albany. I have no idea if they do any recruiting at SUNY.
Xinglong's is a real Chinese restaurant in Albany. Got it off of Google. I have no idea if it's any good, if it offers take-out, or what. All I know is the name. I'm anal in a very selectively weird way. *g*