The following Monday, Molly stopped at the class office on the way to club meeting. Mrs. Young was sitting at her desk and looked up when Molly walked in.
“Hello, Molly,” she said pleasantly. “How are you?”
“I am fine. I just came by to pick up a permission slip for the dance on Friday,” Molly said as she leaned on the counter.
Mrs. Young rose from her chair and walked over to the counter and reached down beneath it. She handed Molly a slip of paper.
“I just volunteered to be a chaperone for the dance,” Mrs. Young said as the door to Miss Marvel’s office opened. Miss Marvel stepped through it and closed the door.
“Hi, Molly,” she smiled at her and then looked at Mrs. Young. “You can lock up when you leave, Mrs. Young. I have my key.” She jangled them in front of them. “I hope your daughter feels better. Have a nice evening and I will see you tomorrow. Are you ready for club meeting, Molly?”
“Yep. Goodbye Mrs. Young,” Molly pulled her backpack to her shoulder and walked out the doorway into the hall.
Miss Marvel walked beside her. Molly looked up at her and smiled. She decided to practice her observation skills and looked closely at Miss Marvel. Her red hair was down with a few strands pulled behind the ear closest to Molly. Her eyes seemed to be a brighter green as they looked down at her. The eyebrows were in perfect brown arches above them. Her mouth softened from a smile to a slight pucker and Miss Marvel stopped walking.
“What are you doing, Molly?”
Molly swallowed before speaking, “I was practicing.”
“Practicing?” Miss Marvel stepped closer to her. “Practicing what?”
“The art of observation.”
Miss Marvel smiled at her and shook her head affirmatively then continued walking to the meeting room. She entered Room 101 and waited for Molly to pass her then closed the door.
“Hello everybody.” Miss Marvel said as she sat in her seat. “I hope you had a great day. Two items. Observations and fund raiser.”
“Ugh,” Carol slouched down in her chair. “I had trouble the second week finding new things to observe.”
“Not me,” Jason volunteered. “I ended up studying the girls on the first Wednesday and the guys on the second.”
“I did something similar,” Molly volunteered. “Since I knew that we had two days, I studied the room on the first Wednesday and the people on the second.”
“Interesting,” Miss Marvel interrupted. “but let’s get organized in our reporting, shall we? Before we go around the team, let’s first say the name of the class, and then name your observations, okay? Bev, you start since you have to make notes of everything.”
“Okay,” Bev said as she unfolded a piece of paper in front of her and smoothed it out. “I simply made a list of things I noticed. On Wednesdays, I have Biology, which by the way, I am becoming more interested in because of Sherlock Holmes.”
Molly listened as Miss Marvel named each member who dutifully reported their observations. She observed that they all reported similar things; the setup of the room, the items around the room, the teacher, and the people sitting around them.
“Molly?” Miss Marvel said, bringing her out of her thoughts.
“You know,” Moly began. “My observations are similar to everyone else’s. Miss Marvel, can we hear yours before I report mine?”
“Why?” Miss Marvel asked.
“Because your observations would have to be different from ours because you had to observe something entirely different than ours. What did you observe on Wednesday morning for third hour?”
Miss Marvel reached into the pocket of her forest green cardigan sweater and pulled out a small stack of index cards. She placed them carefully in front of her and looked around the group.
“The only items I had the opportunity to observe were people so it will be awfully hard for me not to reveal names. I want to be clear about this. Beverly, please close the notebook. What we share in here, stays in here. If I hear of any information that sounds like it came from this group, I will investigate, and that member, or members, will be punished as described in the Student Handbook. Do you understand?”
Molly remained silent and waited. The entire Whodunnit Club remained silent and waited.
Miss Marvel picked up the first card and began to read, “I observe three people every Wednesday during 3rd hour – the same three people. Why do you think that might be?”
“Sounds like a meeting,” Harold said as he sat up in his chair.
“Correct. Hopefully, you understand why names will not be named,” she said. “Holmes could probably deduce who they are, right?”
Molly chuckled and waited for her to continue.
“For each person, I first looked at physical appearance and then I tried to observe who they really are. How and why are they responding the way they do in the meeting.”
“Miss Marvel?” Ted said, raising his hand. “What kind of meeting is it?
“Ted, that is a very good question,” Miss Marvel said to him. “The purpose of the meeting is one in which we discuss how the school is running.”
“Really?” Bev said as she stopped doodling on the page she had pulled in front of her. “The school seems to be run on a programmed set of rules.”
“It is. But we are getting sidetracked,” Miss Marvel interjected. “We are reporting our observations. May I continue? Good. Person 1 is short and quiet, clothing worn is comfortable, shin length dresses, and unusually quiet in this meeting. Their role is to capture the actions of the meeting so always prepared, with steno notebook and two pencils ready to go.”
Miss Marvel set the first card down and picked up a second one, “Person 2. This is the person in charge of the meeting. Average height, always excitable and fidgety, clothing is flashy and bright, always bright, always talking, which makes it difficult to speak in the meeting. And finally,” she said as she set the card down and picked up the last one. “Person 3. This is the real person in charge of running of the school. Tall, quiet, and when they speak, it is in a quiet, confident voice, dresses very professionally, suit, tie, nice smile.
“That is my physical observations of each of them. Now, for the “whys” behind their comments. Person 1 is really a social person but is forced to be quiet because of their role in this meeting; to be seen and not heard. And I think they have something on their mind. Person 2 has an outward appearance that is bright and sunny, but they want their way and uses their sunny outside to try to influence others. Person 3 past was disorderly, and they try to bring order to the chaos around them.”
“Interesting observations,” Molly said, and she looked at Miss Marvel. “How do you fit in?”
“Hmmm,” Miss Marvel said as she set the cards down. “What do you think, Molly?”
“I think, you are too new here, like me, and you are just feeling your way to see how you can make a difference.”
“What is your observation based on?”
“This club,” Molly sat up. “The Whodunnit Club didn’t exist before you and what is our club’s purpose?”
“To be like Holmes,” Harold said.
Molly looked at Miss Marvel. Miss Marvel smiled at her and slightly nodded her head.
“So, what have we learned from our observations?”
“Hmmm.” Carol began. “We all noted the room we were in, except you.”
“Yes, we did. But will a mystery always include a room or a building?” Bev asked the group.
“No, but usually,” Harold said. “The Hound of the Baskervilles is a story about what happens on an estate.”
“What’s an estate?” Ted asked.
“An estate is like a large farm,” Harold said to him. “You should read the story.”
“Let’s call that observation piece, the setting.” Molly said. “And the second part we should label people.”
“Good,” Miss Marvel said to the group. “From now on we will label our observations in two categories, The Setting and The People. Do we all agree?”
Each member of the team shook their head, yes.
“Now, we have fifteen minutes left in our time together. Principal Marty really wants to know what our fund-raiser will be so we can get it on the school calendar. Any ideas?”
The group fell quiet. Molly raised her hand.
“You don’t have to raise your hand here, Molly,” Miss Marvel reminded her.
“Sorry, it’s a habit. Did you say it had to be centered around our club’s purpose?”
“I did,” Miss Marvel said as she folded her hands on top of the desk.
“So a bake sale, wouldn’t work?” Ted asked.
“Unless it’s a mystery bake sale,” Miss Marvel replied.
“That’s it!” Harold almost shouted.
“What? A mystery bake sale?” Carol turned toward him.
“No,” Harold leaned forward. “A Murder Mystery Dinner.”
To be continued…
My First Stories 