The Mystery of the Memorial Day Fire

“Bob-Whites of the Glen” painted on the side. Her fear had grown in the moments since she had left Main Street. When she finally reached the car, her knees turned to jelly and she sat down abruptly on the curb.
    Di Lynch suddenly burst into tears and stood sobbing softly against Dan Mangan’s shoulder. Honey climbed into the car and sat, her back turned to Main Street and the fire, as if trying to block the whole thing from her mind.
    Soon Jim and the two Beldens arrived at the station wagon. Jim climbed in behind the wheel and started the car. Mart, Brian, Dan, Di, and Trixie got in, and everyone rode to the Beldens’ Crabapple Farm in silence.
    Even after Jim had driven up the long drive and was parked next to the house, no one moved and no one spoke. Mart finally broke the silence when he yanked the door handle viciously and blurted, “Imbecilic pyrophiles!”
    “You can say that again,” Jim responded, shoving the gearshift lever into Park. He thumped the steering wheel with the heel of his hand for good measure. “Why won’t people clear out at times like that?”
    “Clear out?” Brian hooted. “What few people weren’t on Main Street for the parade will turn out now that there’s a fire to watch.”
    Trixie felt as awed by these bursts of temper as she had earlier by the burst of flame. A show of temper from Mart was no rarity, granted. But Brian Belden was almost always cool and calm. Jim Frayne had a temper that went with his red hair, but it took an awful lot to get him to show it.
    She was quickly distracted from the boys’ anger, though, as she crawled out of the station wagon and realized that it was the only vehicle in the driveway. “Moms and Dad and Bobby aren’t home yet!” she exclaimed, a feeling of panic clutching at her stomach. She knew there was nothing to fear, really. Her parents and younger brother would have been standing on Main Street, watching the parade; the explosion had happened somewhere off Main Street. But still “Here they come,” Brian said, pointing at the maroon sedan that was coming down Glen Road. His voice sounded more relieved than reassuring, as though he, too, had felt a moment of fear.
    The younger Beldens went into the comfortable old farmhouse, and their friends followed. There was no formal invitation given or asked for. Everyone realized they’d rather be together for a while.
    Trixie went directly to the kitchen, opened the refrigerator, and took out a carton of milk. “I don’t care if it’s supposed to be spring,” she said. “This whole thing has chilled me to the bone. I’m going to make some hot chocolate and melt about a million marshmallows in it.”
    “Oh, that sounds wonderful,” Honey said gratefully. “Let me help you.”
    “Me, too,” Di said.
    “We’d better go call our parents first,” Jim said. “News of the explosion might already be on the radio. They might be worried.”
    “Speaking of the radio,” said Brian, “I’ll tune in WSTH and see if there’s any news.”
    “I’ll help with the hot chocolate, Trixie,” Dan said. “Honey and Jim will make sure my uncle knows I’m all right, and Mr. Maypenny won’t know about the fire unless it’s written up in next year’s Farmer’s Almanac.”
    In spite of herself, Trixie had to giggle at Dan’s statement. Mr. Maypenny was the gamekeeper for the Wheeler game preserve. Dan lived with and worked for the old man, whose tiny, rustic cabin had no radio or television. Mr. Maypenny thought newspapers and magazines caused people unnecessary worry, so he was unlikely to hear about the fire very soon.
    Before she could reply to Dan, the back door burst open and Bobby Belden charged into the kitchen. “Something exploded, Trixie. Didja hear it, didja?” Not waiting for his sister’s reply, Bobby gave his impression of the noise: “ Ka-boom! That was what it sounded like, Trixie. Ka-boom! And then there was a big red light, way up high in the sky. And I said to Moms, ‘You said this was Memorial Day, but Memorial Day isn’t when they have big lights in the sky. That’s the Fourth of July!’ Isn’t that right, Trixie?”
    Trixie gave Dan a bewildered look over her younger brother’s head. As always, Bobby’s statements had a logic all their own. It was hard to know where to start trying to explain to Bobby what had happened.
    Dan scooped the little boy up into his arms. “You’re right, Bobby. They do have big lights in the sky on the Fourth of July. Those