Connie Cobbler

by James DeSalvo

  "Not only that. Foo-foo made Tiffany fall."

  "Why would he do that? It doesn't make sense."

  "And now I can't ask him," I said, saddened and angered by Foo-foo's destructive act. "Let's watch more. Maybe there are some more answers."

  A.J. hit play. Within a few moments I saw all of the Pastry Pals start to cross the bridge. Soon the bridge began to collapse and Tiffany held on to me for dear life. Then she fell. Something in the way she fell was wrong. She didn't fall straight down; she fell at an angle almost as if she were pulled.

  "A.J., can you play this part back slowly?"

  "Alright, but I just want to make sure you're okay with this. Is it too much for you to watch?"

  "I've played this scene in my mind so many times, once more won't kill me. Play it again."

  A.J. slowed the recording down to a crawl. I watched myself on screen trying to pull Tiffany up to the bridge. I saw her start to slip, but it didn't look right. It was almost as if she had been yanked back from me, then fell into the Custard River.

  "Go back to when she starts to slip from my hands," I said. A.J. sighed, but did what I asked. That's when I saw it. "Zoom in on her back."

  Connected to Tiffany's back was a thin piece of wire. The wire looked like it was yanked taught, causing Tiffany to fall. I didn't let Tiffany fall. She was murdered.

  I felt my eyes filling with tears. A.J. handed me a tissue and said nothing. "Play the entire disc again, please," I said quietly as I tried to fight the tears.

  We watched again in silence. This time I noticed Tiffany talking to Priscilla and Tracy. Tiffany looked frightened and stopped talking when Debbie Danish came over to them. Debbie put her hand behind Tiffany. I witnessed Foo-foo sabotage the bridge, and I saw Tiffany pulled into the Custard River.

  It was all there: Tiffany confiding in Priscilla and Tracy, the shadowy figure, Debbie placing her hand behind Tiffany, and the wire.

  One thing was missing. Nowhere did I see a custardy mass crawl out of the river. The clues were leading me to a place where I didn't want to go.

  It was becoming clear that Debbie Danish had murdered Tiffany Tart.

  Chapter Fourteen

  After we had turned the disc off, I turned to A.J. and told him my suspicions.

  "Are you sure?" he asked. "Debbie was Tiffany's best friend. Why would she have wanted her dead?"

  "I'm not sure yet. I have to do some more investigating. I am sure of one thing, though."

  "What's that?"

  "She didn't act alone."

  "Of course not. We both saw Foo-foo damage the bridge."

  "I'm not talking about that. Debbie was the first toy off the bridge, but she was in plain sight of every toy there that day. Debbie may have attached the wire to Tiffany somehow, but whoever pulled it was in the Gingerbread Forest. That was on the opposite side, away from Debbie."

  "That makes sense," A.J. said. "You're good at this."

  "I'm also tired. I need to stretch." I stood up and walked around the basement. I started to poke around in A.J.'s boxes. He usually had some good books or camouflage clothing I could borrow.

  "What are you looking for?" he asked.

  "Nothing much, really. You know me. I'm just being nosy." I opened a box and gasped at what I saw. It was filled with red, green, and yellow wires. I didn't hear A.J. walk up behind me.

  "Oh, you found my demolition wire from my military days. That brings back memories." He smiled.

  I started to feel uneasy. Maybe it was a coincidence. Bombs are usually made with the same types of wire. Still, for the first time ever, I wanted to put some distance between A.J. and myself. I backed up and knocked over some other boxes. Out spilled clothing and more.

  Nervously, I picked up the spilled items and tried to put them back in the boxes. I looked at what I held in my hands. A trench coat and a fedora hat. On the floor was a wig that matched my hair. It was the same look as the woman seen leaving the police station that morning.

  I put the coat and hat back in the box. I quickly backed away from A.J. and moved towards the stairs.

  "What's the matter?" asked A.J.

  "I suddenly don't feel well," I said. Then I felt myself fall. I had slipped on something. On the floor next to the open boxes was a spool of wire. Thin wire. The kind that pulled Tiffany to her death.

  I jumped to my feet and ran to the stairs. "Debbie didn't act alone!" I shouted. "You helped her."

  "What are you talking about? Connie, come back!" A.J. shouted as he tried to chase me. I slammed the door behind me and fled from the house.

  I had no one to help me. I had no safe place. I had lost my only friend.

  Chapter Fifteen

  I jumped into my car and drove. I had to get away from A.J. and my thoughts. I couldn't believe that he and Debbie Danish were the toys responsible for Tiffany's death, but the clues were pointing me in that direction.

  I had to figure out why someone would want Tiffany Tart dead. I had to go to the one person Tiffany had relied on her entire life ever since she was a little doll after her parents had died. I had to go see Gramma Tart.

  Gramma Tart had been put in a nursing home soon after Tiffany fell from the Gumdrop Bridge. She had started to lose control of her mind. She imagined that Tiffany was everywhere and said that Tiffany came to visit her in the night. Whenever she was reminded by other toys that Tiffany was dead, she would stare off and mutter to herself, "You'll see, she's coming back," over and over again until she fell asleep. That was tough for an old doll like her.

  I decided to head out to Dwindling Pines Nursing Home. If I hurried I could probably make it just before visiting hours ended.

  Dwindling Pines was just on the outskirts of Toy Town, near the Gingerbread Forest and Custard River. It would have been a beautiful drive if my memories didn't decide to tag along for company.

  I arrived at the nursing home with only a few minutes to spare. I ran inside and began searching for Gramma Tart.

  "I'm sorry, visiting hours are over in a few minutes," said a tall spinning top with a nurse's uniform on.

  "I just want to see an old friend. Please. I'll be quick," I promised.

  The nurse must have seen the weariness in my eyes. "You can have a few minutes," she said. "Who are you looking for?"

  "Gramma...I mean, Mrs. Tart. Where may I find her?"

  "She's out on the porch in the back. Do you need help finding her?"

  "No, thank you." I walked back through the building of old, forgotten toys and found the porch. I saw Gramma Tart sitting in a wheelchair, staring out at the Custard River. I quietly walked over to her and gently touched her shoulder.

  "Gramma Tart," I said. All of the Pastry Pals called her Gramma. She reminded us of our grandmothers and how sweet the world could be.

  "Hello, dear," she said as she looked into my eyes. "It's good to see you, Tiffany. Please sit down."

  I was going to tell her that I wasn't Tiffany, but I didn't want to spoil her fantasy. I let her believe that I was Tiffany. I wanted to make an old toy happy.

  "How are you, Gramma?" I asked.

  "Oh, the same as yesterday and the day before that. Pretty good. How's your television show going, dear?"

  "It's going well, thank you."

  Gramma Tart stared out at the Custard River. "They told me you had an accident, but I said they were wrong. They don't believe that you come to visit me every night. Now they can see for themselves."

  "Who can see for themselves, Gramma?" I asked.

  "All of the doctors and nurses here. They say I don't know what's going on, but I know a lot more than they think."

  "You always did," I said as I held her hand. I had to find a way to broach the subject of who would want to harm Tiffany without upsetting Gramma Tart. "Gramma, do you remember when I was a little girl? Did I get in many fights?"

  Gramma Tart laughed and squeezed my hand tightly. "You? Oh, you were never one to get in fights. You had your friends around you."

 
"No one ever picked on me?"

  Gramma chuckled to herself. "No. Now that I think of it, you were the one who picked on other toys."

  I didn't remember Tiffany picking on toys. She was shy and quiet around the rest of the Pastry Pals. I couldn't imagine Tiffany saying one ill word against another toy.

  "Oh, you didn't say it to their faces," she said, as if she had read my mind, "But you were a bit jealous. You were especially jealous of that young toy. What was her name? Oh, yes! Connie Cobbler. You said some nasty things about her when she wasn't around."

  "She did, I mean...I did? What sort of things?"

  "Oh, you made fun of her hair to the other Pastry Pals. You said you had a better singing voice and you thought you were prettier. I tried to tell you that you each had your special talents, but you just wouldn't listen."

  Gramma closed her eyes. "No you just wouldn't listen," she said sadly and softly.

  The nurse came out on to the back porch. "I'm sorry, but your time's up."

  I stood up to leave. I bent down and gave Gramma Tart a kiss goodbye on her cheek.

  "Thanks for visiting, dear."

  "It was good to see you again, Gramma," I said.

  She looked up at me with a twinkle in her eyes. "It was good to see you, too...Connie." She smiled as the nurse wheeled her back into Dwindling Pines.

  Chapter Sixteen

  It was mid-afternoon as I left Dwindling Pines. I was glad that I had come to see Gramma Tart. She was the one bright spot on an otherwise bleak and dangerous day.

  I headed out to the parking lot and made sure I wasn't being followed. I was still a marked toy, no matter how distracted I might have become by my visit to Tiffany's grandmother. The path to my car looked clear, but I yanked my hat down tighter on my head and pulled the lapels of my coat up to hide my face. The parking lot had a few cars in it. The one car that caught my attention was a blue sports car next to mine. I recognized it as A.J.'s car. I turned and started walking back towards the entrance of Dwindling Pines.

  Suddenly, I heard the roar of an engine revving behind me. I turned in time to see a black sedan heading towards me. I rolled out of the way, barely making it. The car turned quickly and came tearing back at me, wanting to finish the job. I jumped to my feet and ran. The sedan came bearing down on me, closing the distance swiftly. I knew I didn't have time to jump out of the way this time. I threw myself on the ground as the sedan came closer, hoping it would roll over me.

  As I held my hands over my head for protection, I heard a terrible crash. I rolled over on my back and saw the front of the black sedan mangled. A.J. had driven his car into the front of the sedan. He kept his car as fortified as a tank. He jumped out and yelled at me, "Get in!"

  I got to my feet, unsure of what to do. I looked at the driver of the sedan. I couldn't see a face, but I recognized the outfit. It was a trench coat with a fedora hat. The curls of a brown wig stuck out in the front. The driver seemed dizzy, but not unconscious.

  "Hurry up!" shouted A.J. I stared at him and saw the earnestness in his eyes. I had no choice but to trust him. I ran to the passenger side of his car as he got in and backed up. It was just enough time for the driver of the sedan to gain control and speed off.

  "Let's go! They're getting away!" I said.

  "Already on it. Strap yourself in," A.J. warned. I remembered how powerful A.J. kept his car. I put on my seatbelt. He hit the gas and we were in pursuit. The black sedan turned on to a side road that led into the Gingerbread Forest. The road twisted and turned, but the driver of the sedan kept the car on the road with ease.

  "Wow, he's good!" said A.J.

  "You mean she's good," I corrected him. "That's Debbie Danish. It has to be."

  The forest got darker the deeper we got into it. Soon the black sedan blended in with the surrounding blackness of the woods. A.J. turned on his headlights. The black sedan was nowhere to be seen.

  "Where did it go?" he asked. I peered into the darkness, hoping to catch a glimpse of taillights. I saw nothing. I was nervous, but a little impressed. I didn't think Debbie could drive like that.

  Without warning, I saw a pair of headlights aiming at us from the side of the car. The sedan was barreling down on us.

  "Hold on!" warned A.J. He tried to speed up to avoid the collision, but Debbie was too fast. The sedan hit A.J.'s car full force. I felt the car spinning and we were sent crashing into the trees. The airbags burst forth and kept us from smashing through the windshield.

  "Are you okay?" I asked A.J.

  "I think so. How about you?"

  "I'm fine." I tried to open my door, but my side of the car was pinned against a tree. "Can you get out?" I asked.

  He tried his door and it opened easily. "Yes. Let me check to see if Debbie's still out there." He carefully put his head out of the car and looked into the darkness. The black sedan was gone, but the sounds of it speeding off filled the night.

  "It's safe. Let me help you out," he said as he reached over to pull me from the car.

  "I can manage," I said as I pushed his hands away. I saw his face illuminated by the light of the dashboard. He couldn't hide his hurt feelings. I felt like a heel. "Ow," I said, faking an injury. "I guess I do need your help." A.J. reached in and pulled me from the car.

  A.J. ran around to the trunk of the car and took out two flashlights. He handed me one. "Take a look to see how far we are from the road. I'm going to try to get the car off of this tree."

  I pointed the light around me and examined the terrain. We had definitely gone off the road and into a ditch. The road was twenty feet away, but it might as well have been twenty miles. I turned and shined the light on the car. A.J. struggled and pushed, but his precious sports car was going nowhere that night.

  "Are we stuck here for the night?" I asked.

  "It's too dangerous to stay here. We don't know if Debbie's coming back for us. I have an idea. Are you up for a hike?"

  "A hike in pitch black woods? Sounds like a lot of fun."

  "Then let's go," he said, pointing his flashlight deeper into the woods.

  "Where?"

  "Some place safe," he said. "Trust me."

  Chapter Seventeen

  We walked for what seemed like hours, careful to avoid the road in case Debbie was waiting for us. I had tried to call Captain Cuddles earlier, but my phone was broken in the crash.

  "Where are we going?" I finally asked. I was growing tired.

  "What's the matter? Don't you trust me?" he said, a hint of annoyance in his voice. "I told you earlier, I'm not sure how those things got in my basement, but I thought that after all these years as friends you'd give me the benefit of the doubt."

  "You're right. I was wrong to jump to conclusions. I should have known better. I'm sorry."

  "Apology accepted," he said as he climbed up a rock. He reached down to give me a hand up. "I'm taking you to a cabin I keep in the woods. It's private. The only other toy who knows about it is Mary. It's been in her family for years. She and I stay there sometimes."

  I reached the top of the rock and looked around. I could finally see the remaining daylight from up there. I wasn't prepared for the view. The setting sun reflected off the buildings of Toy Town in the distance. I saw the Custard River below us flowing gently. The remains of the Gumdrop Bridge stood in silhouette against the soft purple sky. It was a beautiful sight.

  I quickly turned away from it.

  "Let's go to the cabin," I said, refusing to find beauty in a place that held such terrible memories.

  A few minutes later A.J. and I entered the cabin. It was dark. I shined my flashlight around and saw that the cabin was small, but clean. A bed was in one corner and a small kitchen area was in the other. "A.J., do you have any electricity up here?"

  "Oh, sorry." He flicked a switch on the wall and the lights came on. "There's some food in the freezer of the refrigerator and some dried food packets in the cabinet from my military days. That stuff stays good for years.”

  I
tried not to gag at the thought of eating that. A.J. still loved that stuff, but I liked my food to be from this century.

  He handed me a large rectangular box that looked like a giant phone. "This," he said with pride, "is an MP 3000. It's a phone I invented. It can be used anywhere in the world and will always find a signal. Just use it like a regular phone."

  "Thanks," I said. I was starting to feel a little bit safer in the cabin. I stifled a yawn. The events of the day were catching up with me.

  "It looks like you could use a little shut eye. You get some rest. I'll see you in the morning."

  "Where are you going?" I asked, concern creeping into my voice.

  "I'm going to go home and see Mary. I don't want her to worry. Besides, I have to get in touch with Captain Cuddles so he can arrest Debbie Danish."

  "It's too dark outside and it's a long walk."

  He smiled. "Don't worry. I have a bike out back that runs on a jet engine. I'll be back in the morning. Go to bed. That's an order, soldier."

  I lay down on the bed as A.J. left. My head hit the pillow and I heard the sound of A.J. driving away on his bike.

  I didn't dream that night.

  The morning came quickly. I heard the sounds of birds chirping in the Gingerbread Forest, probably looking for worms for breakfast. Lucky them. I had to make do with A.J.'s freeze-dried army rations.

  I got out of bed and went to the kitchen area. The clock said it was just after seven. I turned on the water in the sink and splashed some on my face to get the sleep out of my eyes. Considering all that had happened the day before, I had slept pretty well.

  My stomach started to growl. I opened the nearly empty cabinets until I found the dried food packets. The choices weren't appealing. I could have dried meat loaf and cauliflower or yogurt covered peanuts and raisins. I opted for the latter. I didn't think I could handle cauliflower that early in the morning.

  I wondered when A.J. was coming. I needed to get back out there. I needed to know if Cuddles had found Debbie. If he hadn’t, that meant I had to find her. I was already getting tired of hiding. A good night's rest had given me a fresh perspective on things. If Debbie wanted a fight, then I was going to give her one.