The Hudson River Mystery

When they reached the top of the cliff, Brian and Loyola kept on walking toward the station wagon. Trixie, on a sudden impulse, lingered behind for one last look at the river.
    The normally placid Hudson had turned a sickly gray. Ripples sliced through areas of deceptive calm. Trixie stared at it for a long moment, awed by the thought of nature transforming a joy into a threat in such a short time. In a way, though, even a threatening Hudson was beautiful. The gusts of wind hitting her in the face and the rhythm of the waters pounding against the shore were oddly hypnotic.
    Something in the scene before her struck Trixie as being out of place. Nearly everything was in various shades of gray—the sky, the cliffs, the water. Even the trees lining the river were showing their gray sides instead of their autumn-colored sides. The grayness was what made a black triangle, cutting slowly through the murky water, stand out. What was it?... No, it couldn’t be that... it must be... what?
    Trixie squinted and used both hands to hold back her wildly blowing curls from her eyes. Standing as still as she could, she took a good long look and decided that her first impression had indeed been correct.
    ”Yipes!” she whispered. ”It is a fin! What in the world is a shark doing in the Hudson River?”

Disturbed Dreams ● 2

    TRIXIE WAS TOO STARTLED to do more than stare disbelievingly at first. Menaces such as sharks were absolutely unheard of along the Hudson River, as far as she knew. Wait till I tell the Bob-Whites! she thought, retracing her steps toward the river to get a closer look.
    From behind her came the sound of a horn impatiently honking. Trixie recalled her mother’s warning to come right home, and reluctantly she turned toward the car.
    ”What took you so long?” Honey asked as Trixie slid in beside her. ”Don’t you remember what your mother said—”
    Trixie bobbed her head up and down. Sometimes, when she was excited, her words came out garbled. At the moment, she was so agitated that no words were coming out at all. Speechlessly she pointed toward the river. Instead of looking in that direction, the others stared at Trixie.
    ”A shark!” she exclaimed finally. ”I saw a shark in the Hudson! Well, a fin, actually, but fins don’t come without sharks attached—I mean, where there’s a fin there’s a shark. That is—oh, gosh, isn’t this awful?”
    The others continued to gaze at Trixie, Loyola politely, but the rest with a flicker of amusement. Dan turned his eyes back to the road and, it seemed to Trixie, pressed the accelerator a little harder.
    ”Don’t you believe me?” Trixie demanded. ”Should we?” countered Brian. ”Sounds pretty incredible to me. We’ve lived near the Hudson all our lives and never run into any sharks.”
    ”That’s why I’m so upset!” Trixie said. ”Gosh, think of all the swimming and boating.... Well, anyway, if you guys don’t believe me, just turn the car around, Dan, and I’ll prove it to all of you!”
    ”No way,” Dan said tensely. ”Sorry, Trix, but I think getting back safely is more important than the, uh, figments of your imagination.”
    ”The what?” sputtered Trixie.
    Before the fires of Trixie’s temper could be fanned any further, Honey said, ”Maybe what you saw was a wave. The wind was really whipping up the water—we could even see it from the car.”
    ”Then you must have seen the shark, too,” said Trixie.
    ”Stop jumping to conclusions,” Brian scolded. ”Obviously you’re the only one who saw whatever it was you saw.”
    Trixie started to slump down in the seat, then jerked herself upright. ”Loyola—Dan said you were especially interested in the Hudson. You must know more about it than we do. Couldn’t it have been a real shark that I saw?”
    ”For once you’ve reached a right conclusion,” Brian put in. ”Even Mrs. Cowles, our chemistry teacher, can’t believe how much Loyola knows about the river.”
    ”Oh, I’m just beginning to learn about the river,” said Loyola. ”If only the school could get more money from the Sleepyside Conservation Committee to establish a floating laboratory, that would allow me to do some real research.”
    ”Well, what do you think?” Trixie asked. ”About the shark, I mean?”
    Loyola shifted uncomfortably. ”All I can say is that sharks are marine animals—they’re generally found in salt water. And the Hudson along here is fresh water.”
    Trixie slouched down