The Spring Dance
Part 7
Sleepyside Police Station
“What were you thinking?” Molinson roared. The Sergeant ran his hands through his hair as he paced in front of the four teens. Although the irate policeman had threatened to handcuff them to their chairs in order to keep their attention, he had not done so. They all four sat in chairs, Jim and Dan on the outside, Trixie and Josie sandwiched between them. Josie held an ice pack against her face.
“I should charge all four of you with obstruction!” Molinson continued. “You had no business involving yourselves. You could have been seriously hurt; maybe even killed.”
“Excuse me, Sergeant Molinson,” Josie interrupted his tirade. “But Trixie, B.J. and I were just walking down the street, on our way to the police station. We were kidnapped, right off of the street. You knew we were walking down here, because Mr. Stratton told you. I’m not sure why you are yelling at us.” Josie spoke in a sweet, calm voice, but the look in her eyes was venomous. “I’m not sure how Jim and Dan found us, but I’m glad they did. If they hadn’t sent the other Bob-Whites for the police, we might...” Josie’s voice broke, and she looked away. Noticing the look of concern on Trixie’s face, Josie winked at her before turning her eyes back on Molinson. “It was horrible.”
Trixie caught on fast. She quickly wrapped her arms around Josie, and turned her big blue eyes on Molinson. He looked at the two girls, and his anger simply deflated, taking the man with it. Shaking his head, Molinson sat down on his desk. “You could have been killed,” he repeated.
No one spoke. Jim and Dan were busy not looking at the girls, while the girls continued to look at the sergeant. The door opened, revealing a uniformed officer. Molinson stepped outside, closing the door behind him.
“You are good,” Dan whispered to Josie. “You had me going there for a minute.”
“He shouldn’t be threatening us,” she retorted. “Thanks to us, he busted up a drug ring. He should be thanking us, not lecturing.”
“He does it because he cares,” Trixie said knowingly, shocking both Jim and Dan with her insight. “But it is irritating. It’s not like we did it on purpose.”
Molinson interrupted, stepping back through the door. “Your families are here for you,” he said gruffly. “Get out of my office before I change my mind and decide to charge you.”
As the teens filed out, Dan was stopped by Molinson’s hand on his shoulder. “You knew where they were.” It was a statement, and Dan didn’t deny it. He stood silent, waiting for the ax to fall. “You did a good job,” Molinson said. “I don’t like that you did it, but I have to recognize the effort.” The big man tightened his grip on Dan’s shoulder. “I’m going to ask you to trust me next time--and I know that with Trixie, there will be a next time.” Dan opened his mouth, and shut it as Molinson continued, “Because the next time you and Frayne go out on your own, I will nail both of your hides to the wall. Understood?”
Dan swallowed hard. “Yes, sir,” he said, nodding his head.
“Good.” Molinson released the boy. “Now get out of here; I’ve got paperwork.”
Mr. Fisher and Mr. Belden were talking quietly with Regan when the four teenagers made their way out into the lobby. Both of the fathers stopped their conversation and opened their arms, as the girls ran to them. Regan just folded his arms across his chest and shook his head at the boys.
“We’re okay, Daddy,” Trixie assured her father. “But poor B.J, I don’t know what happened to him.”
“The kid who doped the punch?” Regan asked. Trixie nodded. “He’s at the hospital,” the big red head told her. “His father was here when the call came in.”
“Will he be okay?” Josie asked.
Mr. Fisher touched her face. “I don’t know,” he said. “Frankly, I don’t care, and I don’t understand why you are so concerned. Look at what that boy’s done to you.”
“Oh, Daddy,” Josie said, laying her head against her father’s chest. “It really wasn’t all his fault. The poor kid was bullied into using the drugs, he didn’t even know what it was, and he tried really hard to protect us from those creeps when they grabbed us. He’s just a scared little kid, and he didn’t deserve any of this.”
Kenneth Fisher hugged his daughter tightly. “You didn’t deserve this either,” he told her, “And your mother doesn’t need the stress. I have half a mind to send you back to stay with your grandparents in Indiana. At least there you might be safe.”
“I’m safe here.” Josie pulled away. “See,” she said, pointing at Trixie. “Those gang goons took us, right off the street, and Trixie got us out. Jim and Dan followed us, and sent for the police.” She looked up at her father. “Bad things happen in Indiana, too, Daddy. You know that.”
“I know,” Ken sighed, “but that doesn’t mean I have to like it.” Stepping away from Josie, Mr. Fisher held out his hand to both Jim and Dan. “Gentlemen,” he said, “I want to thank you for what you did.” They shook, and he turned to Trixie, still in her father’s embrace. “I want to thank you too, young lady.”
“You’re welcome,” Trixie told him, shaking his hand. “But I don’t know why you’re thanking me.”
“Because you could have left her there, and you didn’t.”
Trixie looked at the man as if he had lost his mind. “Jeepers, Mr. Fisher,” she said. “I couldn’t have just left her there.”
Ken Fisher smiled at the little blonde. “The fact that you don’t realize how easily you could’ve is exactly why I’m thanking you.” He turned and took his daughter’s hand. “Let’s go home.”
“May we stop at the hospital and check on B.J.?” Josie asked as they walked out the door. Ken’s answer was lost behind the door.
“Tom’s waiting to take us home,” Regan grimly told the boys. “We should go.” He nodded to Peter. “Mr. Belden, do you want us to take Trixie, too?”
“Thank you, but I told the bank I was leaving early. I’ll take her.” Peter held open the door, and ushered the kids out toward the waiting vehicles. Looking at the tall groom, he asked, “Just how much yelling are you planning to do?”
Startled, Regan laughed, and relaxed a little. “I’m that obvious, huh?” He shook his head. “Not too much,” he admitted. “How can I fault them for doing what they did? We’re always telling them to stick together and watch out for each other. The fact that they put themselves in danger is frightening, but...” Regan shrugged and held up his hands. “Wouldn’t you or I have done the same?” Peter nodded his agreement. “The Wheelers left this morning, so we haven’t told them yet about this little escapade,” Regan continued. “I think that’s a job for Jim.” He grinned.
“You are a twisted man,” Peter told him. “I like that in a parent.”
“Yeah, well, I’ll yell a little for effect, and then I have a list of things for both Jim and Dan to do next week. A whole, long list that should keep them from having enough time on their hands for any further adventures.” Regan held out his hand, and Peter shook it. Regan quickly replaced his grin with a scowl, and headed off to the car.
Friday, May 4, 1984
“Josie! Wait up!” Josie turned to see Dan Mangan, in full baseball uniform, approaching from down the hall. Closing her locker door, she leaned against it and waited.
“Hi.” Dan smiled down at her. “I didn’t see you at lunch. Is everything okay?” He looked at the side of her face; despite Katie’s careful application of makeup, the bruise still showed faintly through.
“I ate in the journalism room,” Josie explained. “I wanted to finish up my story.”
“Did you?”
Josie nodded. “I was up until after one this morning, but yes, it is done.” She looked at him, suddenly shy. “Would you like to preview it, you know, before it goes in next week’s paper?”
“I’d like that,” Dan told her honestly. “But only if you have a copy I can take with me. I have to catch the team bus in ten minutes.”
“Here.” Josie opened her locker and pulled out a pocket folder. “You can have this copy, it’s an extra. Good luck against Eastchester, by the way.”
“Thanks.” Dan turned, but hesitated. “Uh, Josie? I was wondering...I mean...next week is a home game. I was wondering if you’d like to come and watch it? The rest of the gang will be there, and Mart is always starving after a game, so we usually go to Wimpy’s after. Would you like to come, too?”
“I’d like that.” Josie smiled, her dimples deepening. “I covered sports for my school paper in Bedford; I like baseball.”
“Cool.” Dan licked his lips, and asked, “I thought maybe, if it was okay with your folks, maybe I could take you to a movie on Saturday? Next Saturday,” he clarified, “not tomorrow.”
Josie blushed. “I’d like that,” she said. “I have to check with Mom and Daddy, but they like you, so it will probably be okay. Especially since you asked a week in advance.”
It was Dan’s turn to blush. “I would have asked you for tomorrow,” he admitted. “But I’m not going to have any free time until sometime next week.”
“Oh, no!” Josie exclaimed, “You didn’t get in trouble for yesterday, did you?”
“Not exactly,” Dan told her. “But my uncle sort of decided that this was a good time of the year to get some spring cleaning done around the stables, and then he sort of decided that Jim and I need to help him.” He grinned wryly. “We’re going to be elbow deep in stable muck for a few days.”
“Eww.” Josie wrinkled her nose, making Dan laugh.
“You need to get to class, and I need to catch that bus,” Dan told her. “I wanted you to know that I’m going to stop by the hospital on my way home tonight and see B.J. When I called, his grandmother said that he’d probably be released tomorrow. Would you mind if I showed him your article?”
“Go ahead.” Josie grinned. “But you tell him I expect an apology for his insulting the power of my pen.”
“Huh?” Dan asked, confused.
“Just tell him,” Josie said. “He’ll understand.”
“If you say so.” Dan shook his head. “I’ll see you later.”
“Good luck,” Josie told him again. “I’ll look forward to next week’s game.” She gave him a wink and a mock punch on the arm, watching as he grinned at her and headed back down the hall, her story clutched in his hand.
“Man, I am so hungry.” Mart stretched his long legs out into the aisle. “What a game! That was an awesome double play we turned, wasn’t it?” He cast a glance at Dan, sitting next to him. Dan appeared engrossed in some papers, so Mart tried again. “By the way, I think Coach really liked that handstand you did, rounding third.”
“Hmmm?” Dan looked up from the pages of Josie’s story. “I’m sorry, did you say something?”
“I said a lot of things,” Mart said. “What’s so interesting?”
“The stuff Josie wrote for the paper,” Dan told him. “It’s all about the drugs, and intimidation, and bad company.” He turned his attention back to his reading.
“She’s good, isn’t she?” Mart asked. “It’s hard to admit that a freshman writes better than me, but she does. She’s really good.” He looked over Dan’s shoulder. “Are you going to share?”
Pretending to misunderstand, Dan reached into his gym bag and pulled out a package of oatmeal cookies. “Sure,” he told Mart with a grin. “I got these from the machine. You can have one.”
“I meant the story,” Mart said in an aggravated voice. “But I’ll take the cookie, too.”
“Was there ever any doubt?” Dan snorted, taking a cookie and handing the package to Mart. “Josie wrote this in three parts. You can read the first part. Here. Try to keep the crumbs off of it.”
Mart took a bite out of the cookie, and turned his eyes to the page Dan had handed him, chewing as he read.
I woke up, confused and in pain. I was alone, and I didn’t know where or why. All I knew was that my stomach ached and my throat was on fire. The last thing in my memory was sitting and talking with a boy I had just met. I remembered feeling a little fuzzy, and then, there was nothing. That was the most frightening part; something had happened to me, and I had no idea what it was...
There were only twenty-two minutes left before visiting hours ended when Dan reached B.J. McClendon’s hospital room. B.J. was propped up in bed, flipping channels on the television. A dark haired man, who looked to be in his mid-thirties sat in the chair next to him, reading the paper. B.J looked pretty good for a kid who had gone up against Derek and his goons. He was a little bruised and battered, but all in all, it looked like B.J. had been very lucky. Nervously, Dan cleared his throat.
“Who are you?” The man in the chair asked suspiciously, setting aside his paper.
“It’s Dan, Dad,” B.J. informed him. “Remember, I told you about him?” He looked at Dan. “Dan, this is my Dad, Josh McClendon.”
“Pleased to meet you, sir.” Dan stepped into the room, his hand extended.
Josh McClendon looked at Dan coolly, taking stock, before rising to accept the proffered hand. “Visiting hours are almost over,” he said stiffly, “What do you want?”
“I wanted to come by and see how B.J. was doing,” Dan explained evenly. “I spoke with his grandmother earlier; she told me that B.J. had a really nasty asthma attack, but he was doing better.”
“No thanks to you!” Josh McClendon clenched his fists. “I brought my son here to get him away from thugs like you!
“Dad!” the boy interrupted “We talked about this. Dan isn’t part of the gang, anymore. He got out. He didn’t do anything to me. Remember?”
“Sorry,” Mr. McClendon muttered.
“It’s okay,” Dan said. “I can understand how you feel. I just wanted to stop by and let B.J. know that Trixie and Josie appreciate what he did for them.” He turned to address B.J. directly. “They’re too young to visit, but they told us all how you helped them get out. You came through, Benny. You really did.”
B.J. shrugged, his face turning red. “I didn’t have a choice,” he said.
“Yes, you did.” Dan sat down on the edge of the bed. “When I first came here, my guardian told me that I control my life through the choices that I make; I just have to make the right ones. The same is true for you.”
B.J. was silent, thinking about what Dan had said. Mr. McClendon relaxed a little, watching.
“Here.” Dan rose, handing B.J. the folder containing Josie’s story. “Josie thought you might want to read what she wrote. She also wanted me to tell you that she expects an apology; something about you insulting her pen?”
For a moment, B.J. looked confused. Then, understanding broke across his face, and with it the first smile Dan had seen from him.
“She said she was going to spin me into a hero,” B.J. explained. “I told her that it would be impossible.”
“Ah.” Dan nodded. “Now I get it. She’s right, you owe her an apology.”
“More than one.” B.J. hung his head.
“Just read it, B.J.” Dan turned to shake Josh McClendon’s hand again. “You might want to read it, too, sir,” he said. “It might explain a few things.”
McClendon gave Dan another appraising look. “I will,” he said. As Dan turned to leave, he added, “It was nice to meet you, too, Dan. Thank you for coming by.”
“I’ll see you around,” Dan called out to B.J. He smiled at Mr. McClendon, and made his way out to the car.
Mart was waiting, finishing up an order of fries. As Dan climbed into the car, Mart asked, “Want to come over for dessert? Moms made lemon meringue pie this morning.”
“I’d like that,” Dan replied, backing out of the parking spot. He turned the car toward home, feeling at peace for the first time in a week.
