Winkie stood, brushed the dirt from the knees of her jeans, and scratched her head. Maybe Aunt Susan had brought it in for her. Winkie walked back inside the house and into the dining room where her aunt was perched on a high ladder painting the ceiling.
“Aunt Susan,” said Winkie in a timid voice. She lifted her eyes upward; she dreaded having to tell her aunt about the missing hat.
“Yes, dear,” replied her aunt as she continued painting.
“Did you take a Braves baseball cap off the bench?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
“No,” answered Aunt Susan. “I haven’t seen the cap since you wore it to the Lambs’ house yesterday. Maybe you left it there.”
“I remember wearing it home and then putting it on the bench on the back porch,” said Winkie.
Aunt Susan stopped her work and peered down at her niece. “Are you sure?”
“I’m pos-i-tive!” Winkie drew out the last word. Now Aunt Susan thought she was a scatterbrain, too.
“I’m sorry. I don’t have a clue where it is. Why don’t you ask your dad?” Aunt Susan pursed her lips. “Perhaps he took it.”
Winkie left through the screen door once more and walked to the garage where her daddy was working.
Mr. Hardy looked up. “I like your new friends. They seem like nice girls.”
“They are. I’m meeting Lynn Ann at Pioneer Park for a picnic tomorrow.”
“Great!” exclaimed Mr. Hardy. He went back to sanding a long buffet table he was restoring to put into the dining room.
“Daddy?” Winkie spoke slowly. She dreaded even more asking him about the baseball cap.
“Yes?” he answered without glancing up, his concentration focused on the sanding.
“Did you move the baseball cap I left on the bench on the back porch?” she mumbled softly.
Mr. Hardy sighed and put down the piece of sand paper. He looked up at Winkie, disappointment filling his eyes. “Did you lose something else, Winkie?” He adjusted his glasses and stared straight into her face.
“I didn’t lose it.” Winkie said defiantly. Then she dropped her voice to barely a whisper. “At least I don’t remember it that way. I remember putting the cap on the bench when I got home from the Lambs’ house yesterday.”
“Winkie,” comforted her daddy. “I believe that’s the way you remember it, but if the cap isn’t there, then you must have put it somewhere else.”
Winkie didn’t say a word.
“Why don’t you look for it at the Lambs’ while you are there,” suggested Mr. Hardy.
* * * * *
With a heavy heart Winkie trudged her way to the Lambs’ house. The sky was beginning to darken as big clouds boiled up and gathered into an angry, gray blanket. The trees rustled in the groaning wind, and the musty scent of rain warned of an approaching storm. She picked up her pace and raced the rest of the way so she’d hopefully get every dog fed and back inside the dog house before the storm began. She didn’t relish the idea of chasing wet puppies in a howling wind.
On her way to the Lambs’, Winkie passed by Lynn Ann’s house. She was on her front porch looking at the sky.
“Where are you going in such a hurry?” screamed Lynn Ann over the sound of the gusty wind.
“I have to take care of Molly and her puppies before the storm comes!” yelled Winkie, cupping her hands around her mouth.
Lynn Ann skipped down the stairs. “I’ll help you.”
Lynn Ann ran behind Winkie all the way to the Lambs’ house. Once inside the fence, they quickly fed the dogs and secured the screen door to make sure it wouldn’t blow open in the violent gusts of wind.
“Let’s go,” said Lynn Ann, grabbing Winkie by the elbow and giving her a sharp tug. “Before the rain comes.”
“I can’t,” said Winkie. “I need to look for the baseball hat my daddy let me wear yesterday.” Winkie explained what had happened with the cap and her aunt’s handkerchief. “So you see, I just have to find the cap to show Daddy I’m not forgetful. Something really did happen to it.” Then she added. “And Aunt Susan’s handkerchief, too.”
“We’ll look together,” said Lynn Ann. “But when it starts to thunder and lightning, we’ll have to leave.”
Winkie nodded. “Okay.” Her pony tail whipped into her eyes and her T-shirt blew tight against her chest.
“I’ll look down at the lower end of the yard and you look up toward the house,” said Lynn Ann. “If we don’t find it, then we’ll switch and double check each other.”
Lynn Ann looked under the bushes, behind every tree and amid every flower bed, but she still didn’t see a cap or handkerchief. Winkie looked on the screened porch, inside the kitchen, and along the border of the house, but she didn’t find the cap or Aunt Susan’s handkerchief either.
Then each girl switched places and rechecked the areas. They found nothing except a few chewed up toys and several gnawed tennis balls.
“Maybe you lost it between here and your house,” suggested Lynn Ann.
“Oh, Lynn Ann,” cried Winkie. “I’ve looked and looked and haven’t found either the cap or the handkerchief!”
“Maybe you did put them somewhere else,” said Lynn Ann.
“Well, I guess the handkerchief could have fallen out of my pocket, but I remember placing the cap on the bench on the back porch.” Winkie sat down on the grass. “Nobody believes me and I don’t blame them! I wouldn’t believe me either.”
Lynn Ann sat down next to Winkie and put an arm around her. “I believe you, Winkie. If you say that you put the cap on the bench, then I know that’s what you did.”
Winkie had never felt so helpless, but when she looked into Lynn Ann’s face and saw her concern, she knew her new friend was telling the truth.
“Thank you, Lynn Ann. Having a friend like you makes it better that Daddy and Aunt Susan think I’m an airhead.”
The sound of thunder rumbled in the distance and huge raindrops began to splat around the two girls.
“We need to get home,” said Winkie.
A Burglar in Our Midst
Winkie scooted under the shelter of her back porch just seconds before the rain crashed down. The wind had risen from sporadic gusts into a wicked, howling blowing monster. For the last half block on her run home, Winkie felt like she’d been battling an unseen force. She stamped her feet to remove the excess mud from her shoes, and then using the toe of one shoe braced against her heel, Winkie pushed off the other shoe. She left her shoes outside on the porch and ran inside in her sock feet.
“Thank goodness you’re home,” called Aunt Susan from inside the kitchen. She walked into the den wiping her hands on a dishtowel. “I was getting worried about you.”
“Lynn Ann helped me feed the puppies before the storm came,” said Winkie, her breath coming in ragged puffs. She folded her arms across her chest and shivered. “And she helped me look for the cap and handkerchief.”
“Don’t worry about those things right now,” Aunt Susan scolded as she looked at a soaked Winkie. “Run upstairs and change your clothes before you get chilled and catch your death in cold.”
Winkie flew up the three flights of stairs, two steps at a time. When she got to her bedroom, she peeled off her wet clothes and spread them out across the bath tub so they could dry. She shook faster as she stood in her underwear and walked quickly to her dresser, pulling out a pair of gray sweat pants and a matching sweat shirt. While it had been hot and humid for the last couple of days, this burst of a summer storm had lowered the temperatures, making the air feel like a fall day. Her feet were damp and cold as ice, so she pulled on a pair of extra thick socks.
Once she was warm, Winkie moved to the window and looked out over the roof. The tree branches trembled from the wind and their leaves shook from the driving rain. Winkie looked across the street to another Victorian-styled house. Since she and her daddy had only been here less than a week, Winkie didn’t know many of their neighbors. She knew Mr. and Mrs. Lamb, Myna and h
er daughter Marianne, Scarlet, Maria, and Lynn Ann. Well, that wasn’t many people, but it was a start.
A jag of lightning zigzagged across the sky. The lights flickered off one . . .
two . . . three times and then they blinked out for good.
“There goes the power!” she heard her daddy yell from his bedroom to the kitchen where Aunt Susan had been slicing peaches.
“They go off every time there’s a storm!” her aunt screamed back. “They’ll be back on shortly, soon as the storm passes.”
A patch of low-shining light hovered in a corner of the room, the light coming from the row of nearby windows. Winkie picked up her Nancy Drew book, The Clue in the Diary, and opened it to the page where she’d left off reading last night. She opened to the page where she’d placed the bookmark her friend Abby back in Knoxville had made for her as a going-away gift.
Winkie lifted her eyes and looked out to the dark sky. As much as she liked her new room and the Victorian bed and breakfast, she missed her old room and her old house. And as nice as Lynn Ann was to her, she missed Abby. She and Abby had been friends as long as she could remember. Their moms had met in a prenatal class and then she and Abby had been born two days apart.
A tear rolled down Winkie’s cheek. She closed her eyes. She wished she had her old life back. She wished she had her mama back, too. And she wished for Gigi. It just wasn’t fair. She lifted a prayer to God to make her happy in her new life. As Winkie listened to the rain pound harder against the roof, she concentrated on her book. As she read, her eyelids became heavy and soon she drifted off to sleep.
* * * * *
When Winkie awoke, she lifted her nose and sniffed. The smell of something sweet and cinnamony drifted up to her room. She rubbed her eyes and inhaled deeper. A smile spread across her face. Another specialty of Aunt Susan’s was fried pies. While her aunt’s breakfasts had been kooky and crazy, she made perfect desserts, most of which she shared with the elderly and shut-ins. The fried pies were her best. She used whatever fresh fruit they had for the filling. When her family had visited at Thanksgiving last year, they’d feasted on apple pies. The Georgia and South Carolina peaches were in season now, so tonight they’d be enjoying fried peach pies.
As she came to the last stair, Winkie looked out the window. The rain had stopped and the late afternoon sun was struggling to make one more appearance before it retired for the day. Droplets of rain balanced on leaves and reflected a shiny freshness against the white flowers of a Magnolia tree. The gutters gurgled as the last of the downpour washed from the roof.
When Winkie entered the den, Aunt Susan was sitting in her favorite chair, a fat cushioned rocker that sang soft squeaks with each back and forth movement. Her aunt sipped hot tea from a blue and white china cup.
“That noise is going to drive me crazy,” said Mr. Hardy. He put down the book he was reading and removed his glasses. “First thing in the morning, I’m fixing that chair.”
Aunt Susan smiled. “Suit yourself, but I think it’s kind of nice.” She looked over to Winkie. “Have a nice nap, dear?”
Winkie nodded. “I smelled your pies.”
Aunt Susan looked at her watch. “It’s still a while before supper. Would you like to invite Lynn Ann over for an afternoon snack?”
Within minutes Lynn Ann and Winkie were sitting on the front porch in the swing enjoying the pies. An earthy smell tickled the girls’ noses and a chorus of robins serenaded them as they ate.
“Did you ever think where you may have left the hat?” asked Lynn Ann.
Winkie shook her head no. “Look, Lynn Ann, you don’t know me that well, but after Mama died I had a problem focusing. At school I couldn’t keep my mind on what the teachers were saying. I’d get home and realize I’d left the math book I needed for homework at school. And if I got home with the right book and did my homework, I’d leave the assignment at home.”
“Well, I can understand that,” consoled Lynn Ann.
“Everyone was sympathetic. Nobody wanted to say anything to make me feel worst than I already did.” Winkie stopped her munching and wiped away a smear of peach goo with her napkin. “But the problem was I got a reputation as an airhead.” A sad smile tugged on Winkie’s lips. “Daddy was patient for a while, but then he started getting tired of it.”
Lynn Ann said, “I know how you feel. Two years ago when Mother had the twins, I wasn’t able to concentrate on things either and people got very short-tempered with me. Told me I had to be a big girl now and help out more around the house.”
“What did you do?” asked Winkie.
“Well, I had the same problem with bringing my books home, so as soon as I finished with math, I’d put the book in my backpack. And at home when I finished the homework, I put it in my notebook immediately so I wouldn’t forget it the next day.”
Winkie nodded. “That sounds like a great idea.”
“It’s worked so far,” answered Lynn Ann. “I still forget things, but not as many and not as often.”
Winkie took another bite from the pie and chewed, her mind going over what might have happened to the handkerchief or the cap. She swallowed. “But, Lynn Ann, I promise I didn’t forget where I put the handkerchief and the cap.” She rested her fork on the plate and looked Lynn Ann in the eyes. “It’s like someone took them.”
Lynn Ann’s eyes widened. “You mean like stole them?”
Winkie nodded. “That’s exactly what I mean.”
Let’s Investigate
Early the next morning Winkie choked down Aunt Susan’s homemade granola and chopped egg cereal. She added a lot of milk and then sprinkled extra brown sugar across the top. If Aunt Susan’s creations got any stranger, Winkie felt she needed to have a talk with her daddy. No one would want to stay at their bed and breakfast if this was the kind of breakfasts they were going to have.
The reason Winkie was in such a rush was because she and Lynn Ann were meeting at Pioneer Square to make plans to solve the mystery of the missing handkerchief and cap. Winkie brushed her teeth and ran out to the porch to get her shoes. She couldn’t believe her eyes! Only one shoe was on the porch. She looked in every corner of the porch and under the bench, but she didn’t find the shoe. Winkie searched under all the trees, but she didn’t find the shoe. She crawled all the way into the thick hedge of bushes, but she still didn’t find the shoe. Luckily, Winkie had another pair of tennis shoes. After she put on the other pair, she went to take care of Molly and her puppies.
When Winkie let herself through the gate and whistled, all the puppies, except Squirt, tumbled out of the dog house and scrambled toward her. Their yips and yaps screamed out how hungry they were. Suddenly Squirt emerged from under the laurel bushes, barking louder than all her buddies. She nipped at Winkie’s laces and jumped up on her pants, leaving wet, muddy paw prints.
Winkie laughed and picked her up, holding her out at arm’s length. “You’re the dirtiest of all the puppies!”
Squirt answered with a sloppy lick across Winkie’s chin. She laughed and wiped away the slobber with the back of her hand.
She put the squirming bundle down and then slapped her thigh, “Come on, Squirt, I can’t play too long this morning. I have to meet Lynn Ann.”
Squirt held up her head and barked and then trotted behind Winkie.
After Winkie had fed Molly and the puppies, she walked toward the gate. Squirt ran beside her and tried to wiggle her way past.
“No,” said Winkie. “You have to stay here, Squirt.”
Squirt whimpered and scratched at the bottom of the gate. She sat down and peered up. Then she lifted her snout and wailed.
“No, Squirt,” said Winkie.
Squirt’s wail became a howl and then rose louder and louder.
Winkie sighed. Her heart ached at the sight of the bedraggled little puppy. Mud caked between her toes and a trail of dirt streaked down the back of her head to the end of her tail. Winkie remembered seeing a leash and collar hanging on a hook on the porch. M
aybe she’d take Squirt with her to the square. She didn’t think Mrs. Lamb would mind as long as she took good care of her.
Winkie walked back to the porch and got the leash. Squirt leaped and bounded with excitement as Winkie placed the collar around her neck and then clipped the leash to the ring of the collar.
As they walked from the gate to the sidewalk, Squirt trotted beside Winkie, looking up expectantly. The puppy’s tongue lolled to the side of her mouth and her tail beat in rhythm to their foot steps. Winkie would have sworn that it looked as if Squirt were smiling!
* * * * *
When Winkie and Squirt arrived at Pioneer Square, Lynn Ann was sitting on a redwood bench and nibbling on a sticky bun from Myna’s Confections Shop. Her eyes lit up when she saw Squirt.
“How’d she get so dirty?” asked Lynn Ann.
Winkie shrugged her shoulders. “I can’t imagine. I guess she played outside after the storm.”
“Isn’t there a door for you to lock so the puppies can’t get out?” Lynn Ann pulled a raisin from the sweet roll and popped it into her mouth.
“The dog house doesn’t have a door. But they can’t get out of the backyard because there’s a fence around the back of their property and the gate has a lock.”
A bit of the bun fell to the grass. Squirt ran over and gobbled up the piece. She sniffed around hoping to find another yummy morsel.
Winkie sat down at the picnic table across from her friend. “Well, you’re not going to believe this. One of my shoes was missing this morning!”
“You’re kidding!” Lynn Ann threw a hand over her mouth.
“I wish I were,” moaned Winkie. “And I know I took them off right after the storm and left them on the back porch.”
“The same place as the cap?”
Winkie nodded.
Lynn Ann rubbed her chin. “Well, that proves you didn’t lose the handkerchief and hat. You had to have worn two shoes home.”
“It only proves I didn’t lose the shoe,” disagreed Winkie. “In my daddy’s eyes, I could have still lost the handkerchief and his hat.”
Who'll Pick Me? Page 6
