Molly could hear Miss Marvel coming down the hall toward Room 101 by the clicking of her shoes on the floor.  She was wearing high heels today, Molly thought, because the sound was clearer and more distinct.  When she entered the room to close the door, Molly glanced down and smiled to herself.  She was wearing black, high heeled shoes. 

  “Hello everybody,” Miss Marvel said as she walked to her seat.  Her red hair was down, and she swung it around to get it out of her eyes when she sat down.  In her hands were two boxes.  One is smaller and it is white and thinner than the other one.  The second box is brown and has a handle on top of it.  She separated them as she placed them in front of her.   She placed her right hand on the handle of the brown box.

  “Before we discuss our observations for our case,” Miss Marvel said.  “This box is the money box for the photo booth.  When I left the dance, I asked Mrs. Rogers if I could take it with me.  I was thinking there might be some fingerprints on it.”

  Molly joined the others as they sat up straighter and leaned toward Miss Marvel.

  “Maybe,” Jason said.  “There might be lots of fingerprints.  How would we find out who’s fingerprints are who’s?”

  “I guess we would have to try to find that out,” Bev said.

  “We don’t even know how many fingerprints there might be on it,” Molly said to them.  “Maybe we should find that out first.”

  Miss Marvel then placed her left hand on the second box and said, “This is our fingerprint kit.  I would like two of you to go to another spot in the room and try to get prints off of the box.  Jason and Carol, would you like to try?”

  “What if we mess up?” Carol asked Miss Marvel.

  Miss Marvel shrugged her shoulders and said, “You mess up.  We would have to look for other ways to figure out who done it.”

  “Let’s do it,” Jason said standing up.  Miss Marvel handed the two boxes to Carol.  The two students walked to two desks nearby.  They turned them to face each other and sat down.

  “Now, Bev, have you been recording what we are doing so far?” Miss Marvel asked her.

  “Yes.  I have called the case, Booth, to keep it simple for us,” Bev said.

  “I like it,” Miss Marvel smiled at her and stood up.  She walked around the teacher’s desk to the bookshelf behind it.  On the highest shelf, she reached for another box and brought it back to her seat.  She sat down.

  “We have two crimes in one night,” she said.  “Jason and Carol, before you get too far, you will want to hear about this, too.”

  Molly was in disbelief as she waited for the two students to return to their places in the circle.

  “This box is the money box of the Cooking Club.  Miss Heinz approached me this morning.  She had confessed the crime to Mrs. Rogers who told her that we were working on her case.”

  “Okay,” Molly interjected.  “Shouldn’t we go to the police now?”

  “I thought we could gather as much information as we could and then go to the police with what we have learned,” Miss Marvel explained.

  “How?” Bev asked. 

  “Let’s talk about what we know or don’t know,” Harold leaned forward in his chair.  “Miss Marvel, how much money was stolen from the Cooking Club?”

  “$488.00 and they left $8.00,” Miss Marvel answered him.

  “The admission charge for one couple and one single person,” Ted said. “That’s weird.”

  “Do we know how much was stolen from the photo booth yet?” Carol asked.

  “Yes,” Bev said.  “Harold and I interviewed Mr. and Mrs. Rogers who told us that they took 115 photos.  They threw away 11 of them because they were mistakes. So at $2.00 a photo…”

  “$191.00 because they left $11,” Jason interjected.  “That’s a total of $679 missing from the dance.”

  “How did you come up with that so fast?” Carol asked him.

  “What?  I am good with numbers,” Jason shrugged.

  “That is very good, Jason,”  Miss Marvel  said as she handed him the third box.  “Shall we try to get prints off of this, too?”

  Carol took the box from Jason and stood up.  Jason swiveled out of his chair and the two of them walked to their other seats.  Molly watched them sit down and returned her attention to Miss Marvel.

  “Okay, team,” Miss Marvel leaned toward the remaining members of the group.  “What would Holmes do?”

  “Get organized,” Molly said immediately.  “Let’s attack by using the 5 Ws.”

  “What?” Ted asked.  “What is the 5 Ws?”

  “Who, what, where, when and why,” Harold explained to him.

  “Good idea, Molly,” Miss Marvel smiled at her.  “What do we know?”

  “Let’s explore what we don’t know first,” Molly said.  “We do not know who and why.  We do know what – the money, where – the dance at school and when – we sort of know, it was between 6:30 and?”

  “Let’s talk about those three knowns a bit farther,” Jason said from the other side of the room.

  “Good idea,” Harold agreed.  “Let’s start with where?  We were all at the dance.  What did we observe?”

  “It was fun,” Bev said.  The place was rocking.”

  “What about the space itself?”  Harold asked as he stood up and walked to the chalkboard.  He drew a large rectangle on the it.  At the bottom, he drew a second, smaller rectangle and labeled it Lobby.  He drew a third rectangle along the left side of the largest one and labelled it Hall.

  “I get it,” Ted said. “That’s the gym!”

  “Bev don’t replicate this until we are done,” Miss Marvel told her and then she looked at Jason and Carol.  “Can you please join us again?  Sorry.  Okay, I just thought we work best when we are all together.  What does Harold need to add to the drawing?”

  “The obvious things,” Molly stated. “The stage, the location of the refreshment stand, the photo booth, and the games.”

  The group sat silently as Harold completed the drawing.  When he stepped back, they all remained silent until Miss Marvel asked,  “What’s missing?”

  “The people we know about,” Molly said.  “Where were Mr. and Mrs. Rogers?”

  “They said they were dancing when they were told the money was missing,” Bev said.

  Harold drew two Xs in the middle of the dance floor.

  “Where were the kids when they found the money missing?”  Miss Marvel asked.

  “They said since no one was at the photo booth, so they went to the refreshment table,” Harold said as he drew tow more Xs near the refreshment table.

  “Where were you guys,” Molly asked the group.

  “When?” Jason asked.  “When the money was stolen?  We don’t know that?”

  “I think I know that by asking one question,” Carol said.  “Did Mr. and Mrs. Rogers say when they were dancing?”

  Bev straightened up in her seat and said, “Yes they did!  They only danced the first dance to Twist and Shout!”

  “So, where were you guys?”  Molly asked the group again.  “Bev, Harold and I were on the dance floor.”

  “So was I,” Ted said.

  “Me, too!’ Jason and Carol almost said it together.

  All eyes turned to Miss Marvel, who smiled at them and said, “So was I.  I am surprised not one of you noticed me,”

  “You were dancing with Mr. Charles,” Molly said.  “So was Principal Marty.”

  Mis Marvel smiled at her and nodded her head.

  Harold stepped back from the map he was drawing on the board.  The dance floor was now filled with Xs.

  “What’s missing?” Miss Marvel asked again.

  “The band,” Carol said.  “Don’t forgot the record-player man.”

  “His name is Mr. Fox and he is a teacher here,” Miss Marvel said to everyone.  “He teaches Missouri History and is the History club sponsor.”

    Harold stepped back and placed his hands on his hips and asked, “What’s missing?”

  “Exits,” Molly said.

  “Good observation,” Miss Marvel said as Harold drew lines on the map where the front door and lobby doors are located.

  “There are other exits from the gym,” Jason said.  “The two on either side of the stage and the one into the hallway by the photo booth,”

  Harold added them.

  “What about the two into the locker rooms near the photo booth?”  Molly added.

  Harold added them and stepped back again and asked, “What’s missing?”

  The group quietly surveyed the drawing on the chalkboard.

  “Did we get everything that we know?’  Molly asked.

  “No,” Miss Marvel said.  “The second crime.  Miss Heinz told me the money box was inside the gym on the bleachers behind the refreshment table.”

  “Where was she?”

  “She said she remained at the refreshment stand,” Miss Marvel said.

  “So we don’t know when that theft happened, do we?”  Carol asked her.

  “No, Miss Heinz noticed the money missing when she was leaving for the night,” Miss Marvel explained.  “But she was alone.”

  “Let’s not think of that yet.  Let’s finish this map first,” Molly said.  “Harold add Miss Heinz behind the refreshment stand.  Okay, now what else is missing?”

  Molly suddenly had a realization and asked, “Where was Mrs. Young?”

  “When the music started, we asked her to join us, but she declined so we left her close to the stage,” Miss Marvel said.  “No, a little closer to the locker room, Harold.  There.”

  “Anything else?” Harold asked looking at his drawing.

  No one said anything.

  “Okay,”  Miss Marvel said.  “Bev, redraw that and give the notebook to me and I will make copies for all of us, but we have to keep this to ourselves, okay?”

  The group got quiet again as they watched Bev look up at the chalkboard and to her paper.  When she finished, she turned it toward Miss Marvel who took it from her and looked at the board and then the paper.  She stood up and said, “Bev, good job.  Harold, good idea.  Erase the board and I will be right back.” 

  Harold erased the drawing and returned to his seat.  They waited in silence.  The only sound was the soft swishing of a brush on a box.

To be continued…

Molly, Bev, and Harold stood near the punch bowl table and sipped from their cups.

  “I thought the punch might be spiked,” Harold said as he looked into the cup he held in his hands.

  Molly shook her head and Bev laughed.  She watched a few students dancing in the middle of the dance floor.  Molly shook her head again and smiled when she saw that they were dancing in their socks.  She wondered what did they do with their shoes? Looking around, she spotted pairs of shoes were on the floor.  They were lined up and bordering the perimeter of the dance floor.  She put her cup on the table and stepped forward, leaving her two friends watching her.  When she reached the edge of the dance floor, she placed her right foot behind her left, pulled it up, and removed its shoe.  She then switched her feet and removed the other shoe.  Harold and Bev stepped next to her and removed their shoes.  Molly laughed and skipped toward the middle of the dance floor but suddenly stopped when the speakers squealed with feedback.  The music stopped and a voice replaced it.

  “Welcome to the 1950s!” Mr. Eichenberger said into one of the two standing microphones.  “Are you ready to dance!”

  A slow drumbeat began then a bass note from a bass guitar joined it.  The kids started gathering closer to the stage.  A simple, constant guitar note harmonized with the drumbeat.  Mr. Eichenberger, and two women behind him started to sway with the sound.  Molly found herself swaying to the beat, too.  She recognized some of the band members and she laughed out loud when she saw the drummer.

  “But first,” Mr. Eichenberger continued. “I want you to meet the band.  You may know some of them as teachers here at SLMS so don’t be surprised!  We do have lives, too!”

  A cheer rose from the dance floor and Mr. Eisenberger stepped back to let it die down before he continued.  “Yes, that’s Mr. Dalton on the drums!  Mr. Quitman is on lead guitar!  My friend, Mr. Twillman is on bass guitar!  My other friend, Miss Orlando is on brass and vocals!  I’m Mr. Eichenberger and I add a little bit of what we need.  Finally, our lead vocalist, Mrs. Irondale and, believe it or not, she sounds a little bit like Mama Cass!  Together, we call ourselves, Out for Fun!  Enough talk – let’s Twist and Shout!”

  The gym erupted with cheers as Mr. Eichelberger escorted Miss Orlando to the chairs beside the drums and they each picked up a trumpet.  Mrs. Ironside stepped up to a microphone and started to sing, “Well!!!!”  She held the note what seemed to Molly to go on forever.  Molly laughed.  Mrs. Ironside did sound like Mama  Cass.  The music of the band began to swell, and the kids began to jump and clap. “Well, shake it up baby, now…” Mrs. Ironside’s voice filled the room.  “Twist and shout!”  Molly started to twist and shout.  Beside her, she saw Bev and Harold gyrating with the sound of the music, and she laughed out loud.  The school dance had officially begun.

  Molly and Bev were watching a blind-folded Harold trying to pin the tail on the poodle in the corner of the gym.  Several marks were on the portrait of a poodle taped to a bulletin board.  Those marks identified where others had placed their tail on the poodle.  The closest to the where a tail should go would win a door prize.  Molly could see that Harold had aligned himself in a fairly good line to get really close.  He reached out feeling for the board with two hands.  He stopped when he felt the board and, with his right hand, pinned his tail to the poodle.  He instantly removed his blindfold to see what he had done.

  “That is really close,” one of the Cooking Club girls said to him.  “What are your initials?”

  “HJ for Harold Jones,” he said and turned toward the two waiting girls.

  “I thought it would be funnier,” Bev said when they turned toward the refreshment tables.

  “Congratulations, Harold,” Molly said to him.  “I was impressed.”

  A tall figure approached them from behind and tapped Molly on her shoulder.

  “I need to talk to you in the lobby,” Miss Marvel said to the three of them.  “I will get the others and meet you there.”

  Molly led Harold and Bev through the gym doors to the lobby atrium then turned to face them.

  “What did we do?” Molly asked her two friends as they stopped near the door.

  “I don’t know,” Bev whispered as she looked around the room.  A few students were milling around it.  Several were holding punch cups.  A few girls were fanning themselves and laughing during their conversations.

  “We didn’t do anything,” Harold said.  “I wonder what she meant by the others?”

  “Oh,” Molly replied.  “I think that will become clear in a few seconds.  Look.”

  Bev and Harold turned to follow Molly’s gaze into the gym.  Through the windows of the doors, they could see Miss Marvel, along with Mrs. Rogers, leading a trio of students, Ted, Carol, and Jason, toward them.

  “The Whodunnit Club?” Bev asked.  “For what?”

  “I guess we will soon find out,” Molly said to them as the door opened.
  Miss Marvel paused in front of them and looked around the room.  She glanced at them and nodded her head for everyone to follow her.  The small cluster of teens followed the two adults around the corner onto a hallway that ran beside the gym.  Miss Marvel stopped about halfway down and looked up and down the corridor.

  “You guys,” she said to a couple of students peering around the corner from the lobby.  “Go back to the dance.  This is not your concern.”

  After the two figures disappeared, she bent down, and everyone huddled around her.

  “There has been a robbery.  Mrs. Rogers has just told me the money from the photo booth is missing.”

  “I didn’t do it,” Jason said.

  “No one said you did,” Mrs. Rogers quickly added.  “None of you are being accused.  It’s a simple request.  I need your help.”

  “Why not call the police?”  Carol asked the obvious question.

  “Someone here, at the dance, stole the money.  The only people here are students and teachers.  I believe it is a school matter,”  Mrs. Rogers explained to them.

  “But why us?”  Harold asked.

  “Aren’t you the Whodunnit Club?  I figured that you might figure out Whodunnit,” the physical education instructor explained.

  “I have some questions,” Ted said.  “Can I ask them?”

  “Sure,” Mrs. Rogers said.

  “How much money is missing?” he asked her.

  “We don’t know yet.  Mr. Rogers is trying to figure that out now.  All I can tell you is that $11.00 is all that was left.”

  “$11.00?” Carol said quietly.

  “Yes, one $5.00 bill and six $1.00 bills,”  Mrs. Rogers told them.

  “Who found the money missing?”  Ted asked another question.

  “Jim Hairston.  He is an eighth grader and plays baseball,”  Mrs. Rogers explained.

  “Was he alone when he found the money missing?”  Harold asked.

  “No. Pearl Adams was with him.  She is a softball player,” Mrs. Rogers explained.

  “Where were they before they noticed money missing?” Harold asked.

  “I don’t know,”  Mrs. Rogers answered.

  “Where were you and Mr. Rogers?” Harold asked.

  “We were ,” Mrs. Rogers hesitated for an instant. “Dancing.”

  “Miss Marvel?” Molly turned toward her club sponsor.  “Are you sure about this?”

  The assistant principal looked at her and said, “For now.  Mrs. Rogers, will you please excuse us?  We will see you shortly.”

  Mrs. Rogers stood upright, looked around the group, smiled, and walked away.

  “Okay, I agree, it is not the best reason not to go to the police,“  Miss Marvel calmly said to her club members.  “But let’s try to figure it out anyway.  Let’s do it quietly.  Harold and Bev, go interview the photo booth members including Mr. and Mrs. Rogers.  The rest of us will start talking to others and making observations as we go.  Write down your observation as soon as you can.  At our meeting on Monday, we will discuss what we found out and decide what to do next.  Okay?”

  Molly and her friends re-entered the gym.  In the middle of the dance floor, a long line of people had formed on one side of two Cooking Club girls holding a bamboo pole at shoulder height.  Mr. Eicheberger’s voice was coming from the speakers,  “All right, all right!  That was rather good first attempt but now we have to start eliminating people.  Lower the Limbo pole to waist high!”

  The two students did as they were told.  “Okay, let’s step up the music!”  The band did as they were told.  “Remember, who knocks the pole or falls down is out!  Let’s Limbo!”  The line of students began to push forward.

  Bev ran to the end of the line practically pulling Harold along with her.  Molly laughed at the two of them and started to look around the room.  Most students were in the limbo line.  A few were behind the refreshment table watching the others.  Mr. and Mrs. Rogers stood alone at the photo booth, both of them were looking grim.  Principal Marty was standing near the same spot Molly first saw her that night.  She was holding a red cup.  Mrs. Young was standing next to her, talking, her yellow dress making her stand out among the rest.  Molly thought it looked like she was trying to be noticed.  She also held a red cup in her hands.  Molly looked around for Mr. Charles but didn’t see him anywhere.  She looked on stage.  All the band members and the guy who had been playing records were all there, playing music, and watching the action on the gym floor.  She glanced back toward the photo booth.  Miss Marvel had rejoined the Rogers and was watching the limbo contestants.  Mrs. Young approached them and stood next to Miss Marvel, said something to all of them, and they all started to laugh.  Molly noticed something about Mrs. Young.  Something was missing from her earlier ensemble, but she couldn’t quite place what it was.  What would Holmes do?  She decided that she would think harder on that topic.  A roar of laughter erupted from the crowd causing Molly to look toward it.  She started to join the others in laughter as she saw Harold sprawled out on the dance floor with the limbo pole on top of him.

To be continued…

“What’s a Sock Hop Dance?’ Billy asked when Molly brought it up during dinner.

  “I don’t really know,“ Molly said.  “I just know it’s a dance.”

  “Sock hop dances were a big thing in the 50s.  The girls wore poodle skirts and white blouses,” Mom said to them.  “And saddle shoes with white socks!”

  “It is called a sock hop because everyone took off their shoes and danced in their socks,” Dad added to the discussion.

  “What?” Molly said to her.  “What is a poodle skirt?  And do I have to wear one?”

  “It sounds like you need more information,” Dad said.

  The next day, Molly stood at the counter of her class office, leaning her elbows on it.

  “Good morning, Molly,” Mrs. Young said from her desk.  “How can I help you?”

  “I am looking for more information about this dance on Friday.  Is there a brochure or a sheet describing a dress code for the dance or anything?”

  “Molly, there is a sheet posted on all of the bulletin boards.  They have been there for the last two weeks,” Mrs. Young said.

  “Really?” Molly asked.  “Have I been that unobservant?  Sherlock would be so disappointed in me.”

  “Sherlock?”

  “Never mind about that.  Is there a copy of that posting I could have?”  Molly asked the secretary.

  Mrs. Young opened a drawer in her desk, extracted a piece of paper from it and brought it to the counter.

  “Here you go, honey,”  Mrs. Young said, handing her the sheet and giggled.  “You will see at the bottom that it says to ask your class office for more information.”

  Molly smiled at her and left the office with the page in her hand.  She walked to her English class.  She sat in her seat, set her backpack on the ground, and began to read aloud, in a whisper, from the page.

  “Sock-Hop Dance Friday night.  Doors open at 6:30 and close at 10:30. Come dressed in the 50s style. Girls let’s see your ponytails, poodle skirts, saddle shoes and white socks.  Guys come in white shirts, letter sweaters, and blue jeans.  There will be Hoola-hoop and Limbo contests.  Hop-scotch, jump rope, and Pin the Tail on the Poodle on the side.  The Lettermen/Letterwomen Clubs will be sponsoring a Photo Booth for $2 a photo.  The Sock-Hop Dance is the Fund – Raiser of the Cooking Club.  Snacks and Punch will be provided.  Admission at the door – $3.00 per person or $5.00 per couple.” 

  Molly leaned back, slouched in her chair, and groaned.

  “Molly, are you okay?” Mrs. Chesterfield asked.

  “Yes, ma’am,” Molly sat up.  “I was just wondering if I have any socks.”

  Mrs. Chesterfield gave her a funny look and turned toward the chalkboard.  Molly put her head in her hands.

  Later, Molly entered her lunch hour class, American History.  As she walked through the doorway, she smiled.  Instead of stopping at her assigned seat, she went directly to Mr. Dalton’s desk.  The teacher had his feet on his desk and was leaning back in his chair with his hands clasped behind his head and his eyes closed.

  “Yes, Molly?” he asked her not opening them.

  Surprised, Molly asked, “How did you know it was me?”

  “I heard you,”  he said remaining in his relaxed position.  “What can I do for you?”

  “I never thought of that,” Molly said to herself.  “Using your senses to observe things.”

  “What?”  Mr. Dalton suddenly sat straight up causing Molly to step back.

  “Sorry, Mr. Dalton,” Molly recovered from her surprise.  “I wanted to ask if there is anything you could tell me about Sock-Hop Dances from an American History point of view?”

  Mr. Dalton placed his elbows on his desk and his head in his hands.  He slowly smiled at Molly.  He stood up and crossed his arms in front of him,  He walked back and forth behind his desk and when the bell rang.  He slowly turned to face Molly who had remained standing in front of him.

  “Class!” he announced to the students in the room.  “Let’s thank Molly for this marvelous class assignment.  Molly, you may go to your seat.”

  Molly trudged to her chair and dropped her backpack to the floor.

  “You have a, required, extra credit report due on Friday on the subject of the history behind Sock-hop dances.  Questions?”

  Several hands were flung into the air at once and Mr. Dalton carefully surveyed the people holding them.  He slowly smiled and said, “Beverly?”

  “Why?”  Bev asked.

  “Molly asked about it,”  Mr. Dalton smiled at her.

  Molly slouched lower in her chair.

  “Now, here is our plan for today,”  Mr. Dalton walked from his desk and began to write on the board.

  Molly and Bev carried their lunch trays to a table in the corner of the cafeteria.  Harold was already there, crunching an apple.  Bev dropped her tray on the table and Molly silently sat beside her.

  “What’s up guys?”  Harold asked.

  “Oh, Molly got us a required, required, extra credit assignment in History today,” Bev complained.

  “I’m sorry.  How many times do I have to say it?!  I just wanted to know, and I asked him for information.  He turned it into an assignment,”  Molly tried to explain to Bev.

  “You asked about what?” Harold asked before taking another bite of his apple.

  “Sock-hop Dances,” Molly answered.

  Harold started to cough, and he leaned forward. Molly started to pat him on his back.  He looked at her with tears in his eyes and started to laugh.

  “I am okay, Molly,” he said. “But Sock Hop Dances?”

  “Who cares about the history of dances?” Bev almost yelled at them.

  “Did you see this?” Molly had taken the dance notice out of her backpack and placed it on the table in front of them.

  Bev snapped it off of the table, read it to herself, and passed it on to Harold.  After he read it, he joined Bev in looking at Molly with a questioning look.

  “Don’t you wonder why?  Why poodle skirts and saddle shoes?  Why hoola-hoops and limbo?  Why socks?”

  “I guess,” Harold said.  “Are you going to it?”

  “I was,” Molly said.  “I thought the three of us could go together.”

  “Of course, we’re going,” Bev said.  “It is our first school dance.  My mom is even going to get me saddle shoes.”

  “Well, I wasn’t planning on going,” Harold said to them.

  “Why not?” Molly asked.

  “I can’t dance.”

  Molly’s Dad dropped them off at the front door and as the three teenagers emptied from the car, he called Molly back to the vehicle.

  “Yes, Dad?” Molly leaned into the window.

  “Have fun and be careful,” he said to her.  “I will be back here around 10:30 but if you need me sooner, just call me, okay?”

  Molly looked at her Dad for a few moments.  “What is it really, Dad?”

  “You are just growing up too soon.  Have fun!”

  Molly watched the car exit the school parking lot.  She turned to join Bev and Harold.  They were dressed for the evening.  Harold had his hair slicked back, black leather jacket, blue jeans, and black loafers.

  “Where did you get the shoes?” Molly asked him.

  “Goodwill.  It was my sister’s idea,” he said.  “You two look like twins.”

  Molly smiled at him because that is what they were going for, to be twins.  They both wore poodle skirts that her Mom put together for them.  The difference was the color.  Molly’s is pink and Bev’s is dark blue.   They wore white blouses with sweaters over them.  Molly’s sweater is dark blue, and Bev’s is pink.  Their hair was pulled back into ponytails and they wore frilly trimmed white socks and saddle shoes.

  “Where did you get your shoes?” Harold asked.

  “Goodwill.  Your sister told us to go there,” Bev laughed.

  Harold opened the outside door and they entered the atrium of the school’s gymnasium.  Molly silently reminded herself that she was going to practice observation while she was at the dance.  The sound of “Rock Around the Clock” instantly filled the room.  They got in line to enter the gym.  Most of the people in front of them and, those wandering around them, were dressed in similar costumes, clearly following the party theme.  A table was set up next to one of the two doors into the gym itself and two girls are sitting there.  An aluminum lock box sat on the table between them and she could see dollar bills.  Taped on the front of the table was a poster announcing the event, The Sock – Hop Dance presented by the Cooking Club with the admission prices.  The first girl was taking the door admission money from those entering the room and the second was pressing a marker into the top of their right hands with a red dot.  Harold gave the first girl $5.00 for himself and Bev.  Molly handed over $3.00 for herself.  They held out their hands and were marked with the red dot. 

  “Have fun!” the girl said after marking Molly.

  “Thanks!”  Molly said and the three of them entered the gym.

  Inside, the room was bright and loud.  Streamers attached to helium balloons hung from the ceiling.  Molly saw on the stage, located to their right, a man was there behind a record player with huge speakers mounted on either side of it.  He had headphones on, and he was dressed like Harold in a black, leather jacket and dark sunglasses.  He was dancing to the current song.  Behind him, and to his left, a small band was setting up.  The drum set was front and center, a pair of chairs stood to its left and two microphone stands stood tall to the drum’s right.  Molly was excited to see there would be live music.  A group of six people were scrambling around the drums.  She noticed Mr. Eichenberger was one of them.  Molly was excited to see that there would be a live band playing music.  There is nothing like live music.  In front of the stage, a group of kids was laughing as some guys were trying to do their best using hoola-hoops. 

  Molly looked to her left and saw the refreshment tables lined up in front of the bleachers.  The end tables held punch bowls and red, plastic cups.  Next to them, a girl was stationed to fill the cups with the punch for each guest.  The longer table in between is adorned with two tiered towers of cookies, and several empty trays.  Behind these tables were more tables where another group of girls and one adult were hustling and bustling around.  Molly recognized the adult as Miss Heinz, the Cooking Club sponsor.

  In the far corner of the room, Molly noticed some students were lining up in front of another table.  Behind the table was a large drawing approximately seven feet tall and six feet wide.  It said, Sock – Hop Dance, SLMS,  above an arch of musical notes and records streaming down serving as the legs of the arch.  As she watched, a couple stepped in front of it, and boy in a letter sweater raised a camera in front of them and snapped a picture.  She realized it was the photo booth.  Wo adults stood nearby watching the kids on the dance floor. They were Mr. and Mrs. Rogers, the two coaches who sponsored the Lettermen and Letterwomen clubs.  They, too, were dressed for the evening. She was swaying her poodle skirt and he was nodding his slicked back hair to the beat of the music.

  In the center of the gym, students had gathered, and some were dancing but most were watching those who danced.  Molly noticed directly across from them stood the three principals.  Principal Marty was in the center and she is dressed in a blue ankle length skirt with a matching blue sweater.  Miss Marvel was standing to her left and her red hair was pulled back into a ponytail and she wore a pink poodle skirt like Molly, but she wore a blue, polka dot blouse.  Mr. Charles stood to Principal Marty’s right and he is dressed in a gray, three-piece suit.  It was clear to Molly that he did not want to be there.  As she watched, she saw Mrs. Young walk up to them.  She was dressed in a bright yellow dress and saddle shoes.  Over her shoulder, she hoisted a large brown purse.  She said something to the three principals, and they laughed.  Mrs.  Young left them smiling and walked toward the photo booth.

  “What shall we do first?” Bev asked.

  “Let’s get the picture over with because I promised my sister,” Harold suggested looking at the two of them.

  Molly laughed and grabbed his left hand and Bev took the other.  Harold smiled and led them toward the photo booth.

To be continued…

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 3^rd 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…

Monday morning arrived early, or at least it seemed early to Molly.  The weekend was slow as she spent her time reading.  She and Bev were planning to go to Jamestown Mall but that fell through because Bev had to go with her family to visit her grandparents.  Besides reading Holmes, she read ahead in American History.  She liked history and currently they were studying the American Revolution, making the reading fun.  She made notes as she went along, and her dad happened to see them.  He asked her if she wanted to see how he took notes during work meetings.  She really didn’t want to, but she told him yes.  He went into his bedroom and returned with his briefcase.  He took out a notebook and handed it to her.  She opened the cover and on the first page, she saw strings of words on lines.  She looked up at him confused and he told her it is called fishbone.  She looked at it closer and it became clear what he meant.  There was a long flatline with a few words on it which could be the fish’s spine.  Springing up from the main line there were many lines, above and below, with words on them.  They could be the ribs of the fish.  He explained that the spine line was a topic and the offspring lines were items related to the topic.  He thought it was a freer way to take notes.  She smiled at him and told him it was clever, and he went away happy.

  She stretched in her bed, turned, and stared at her desk.  Hanging from the back of the chair were the clothes she had put out last night.  It was a dark brown sweatshirt, blue jeans, and her cowboy boots stood next to it.  She needed something brighter.  She threw the cover off and stood up.  She knew she had a bright yellow blouse but couldn’t remember if she had it hanging in her closet or folded in her dresser.  She threw her closet door open and the blouse jumped out at her immediately.  She smiled and practically danced back to her bed, hugging it all the way.

  It was windy outside, and Molly pulled her hood over her head as she waited at the bus stop.  She was the first one there and she swayed from one foot to the other in an effort to stay warm.  Bev was the first to join her.

  “How is grandma and grandpa?”  Molly asked her when she stepped up beside her.

  “Fine,” Bev sighed.  “I don’t know what they all talk about, but it always seems endless.”

  “I get it.  Thank goodness my brother comes along to entertain us.” Molly said.  “Hi Harold.  Good weekend?”

  “I had a soccer game so yeah,”  Harold answered her.

  The conversation stopped and it continued to be silent as they rode along to school.  The three of them simply waved to each other and went their separate ways when they entered the building.  Molly stopped at her locker to leave her hoodie and then continued on to Homeroom.  She stepped inside the room and nodded at Mr. Branson who was sitting at his desk with his hands folded on it.  He nodded back.  Molly wondered if the man ever smiled.  She sat in her assigned seat and placed her backpack on the floor beside her.  The bell rang and those students that were still standing, sat, and Mr. Branson stood up.  He read through roll call and the speaker crackled with the drum roll of the national anthem.  They all stood with their right hands over their hearts.  They sat when it was over and waited.  The speaker crackled again.

  “Good morning S, L, M, S.  I hope you had a nice weekend and are ready for a great week,”  Principal Marty began her Monday morning announcements.

  Molly’s mind turned to Sherlock Holmes and wondered what he did during Monday morning announcements.  Did he read a newspaper?  Try to create cryptographs to confuse his friends?  Hey, she thought, what a great idea!  She reached down to her backpack and grabbed a notebook and placed it on the desk.  She pulled a pencil from the backpack, too, and set it next to the notebook.

  “And finally,”  Principal Marty continued.  “Our first school event is coming up.  It is a school dance, a sock-hop, and it will be a week from Friday so pay attention to the bulletin boards.  More information will be made available to you, if you are interested, at your class offices.  Thank you and go SLMS!”

  When the crackle of the speaker sounding off ended, several hands went up in the air.  Mr. Branson sighed and pointed to a girl in the front row.

  “Tell us about the Sock-Hop, Mr. Branson.

  At the end of the school day, Molly, Bev, and Harold walked into club meeting and found Miss Marvel already there.  With her was a short, average looking man.  They were quietly talking to each other behind the desk.  Molly noticed a stack of white cards and a small black bag beside it.  When they sat down, Carol had entered the room and sat with them.  Bev had quietly retrieved the red spiral notebook from her backpack and already had it open to a blank page.  She wrote the date on it.  When Jason and Ted entered the room, Miss Marvel closed the door behind them.

  “Good afternoon,” she greeted them in her quiet voice.  “As you may have remembered, I told you last week that I was bringing a friend to our next club meeting.  This is Detective Tracy,  Detective Tracy, this is The Whodunnit Club.”

  “Hello,” Detective Tracy began as Miss Marvel sat in a seat near the door.  “I am glad to be here and I understand that you want to learn about fingerprints.  I cannot stay long but just long enough to make you dangerous,” he smiled at his joke, but the group didn’t, so he continued.  “A fingerprint is an impression left by the friction ridges of a finger, or foot, or palms.  There are two types, Exemplar, which is what we are going to do today and Latent, which I will demonstrate one of the techniques we use in forensic science. You are studying Sherlock Holmes so I will demonstrate the dusting method which is what was used in his timeframe.

  “Before you ask me, let me describe the difference between Exemplar and Latent.  Exemplar prints are those that are intentionally made, like when someone is arrested for a crime and we get their fingerprints.  Latent are those prints that are found at crime scenes that may not be seen to the naked eye.  Wait, that is not exactly true.  There are some prints that are seen, and we call those Patent prints and we have to do something to them to be able to collect them.”

  “What do you mean?” Carol asked.

  “Well, in order to be able to maintain a copy of the prints something has to be done to it, usually chemically, and then picked up with something adhesive.”

  “Like tape?” Harold chimed in.

  “Like tape,” the detective nodded back at him.

  Detective Tracy handed each of them a white card including Miss Marvel.  The white card had two rows of squares with five squares in each row.  He then asked each of them to bring their cards to the teacher’s desk where he was sitting, one at a time.  When it was Molly’s turn, he took her card from her and set it in front of him and held out his hand.

  “Right hand,” he said as he rolled a small roller on a black ink pad.

  She held her hand out to him.  He took it and spread the roller across all of her fingertips including her thumb.  He then rocked each digit in one square of the lower row.  He wrote the word, right, beneath the first imprint.  He reversed the card so that, what was the top row, was now the bottom one.

  “Left hand,” he said, and they repeated the process.

  When everyone had returned to their seat with their white card.  Detective Tracy began to speak again as he repacked the black bag with the items he used in the process.

  “Take a look at your prints.  How many of you have prints that appear to be loops?”

  Bev, Carol, Ted, and Jason raised their hands.

  “How many of you have prints that look like whorls, more circular looking?”

  Molly and Harold raised their hands.

  “Finally, does anyone have a print that looks like an arch?”

  Miss Marvel raised her hand.  Detective Tracy smiled at her.  “Those three types are used by a classification system called the Henry Classification System and statistically, 60 – 65% of people are loops, 30 – 35% are whorls, and 5% are arches.”

  “I thought fingerprints are unique to an individual.  Why does that matter?” Jason asked him.

  “That’s true, fingerprints are unique but if we were to reprint you right now, your own prints might be slightly different.  The reason for that could be the amount of ink on your finger, or the pressure used to roll your finger on the card, for example.  The classification system is used by an expert to determine whether two prints are the same.”

  “Could I compare two prints to see if they are the same or not?” Molly asked him.

  “With some magnification, you might be close enough in your assessment to get an expert involved,”  Detective Tracy answered her and then added, “It was great meeting you, but I have to run.” 

  He stood up from the desk and turned to Miss Marvel.  He moved to toward her, but she hastily reached out her hand.  He paused, shook it, and walked out of the room.  She closed the door behind him and walked to her place in the club’s circle of chairs and sat down.

  “That was interesting, wasn’t it?” she stated.

  “Yes,” Molly said.  “We learned that you, Miss Marvel, are unique.  Your prints are part of the smallest percentage of prints.”

  “That was interesting,” Miss Marvel agreed with her.  “I had no idea.”

To be continued…

Instead of Choir, Molly’s last class of the day on Tuesdays and Thursdays, is Resources.  Resources is a free period where students get time to complete homework or work on school projects.  Her father called it Study Hall.  The Resources class is held in the cafeteria and Mrs. Irondale is her teacher.  Mrs. Irondale is a tall black woman, thin, and wore dark clothes.  Her snow-white hair is cut short, almost a crew cut but not quite. She is pacing around the perimeter of the cafeteria slowly, her eyes glancing at the students spread out among the tables.  Some students were in small groups of two or three, but most of them were like Molly, sitting alone.

  Molly reached into her backpack and pulled out a spiral notebook, leaving her Math and History books inside it.  She had been thinking about her problem overnight and throughout the day.  She decided to deal with it and get it out of her mind.  She smiled to herself at that thought, removing the clutter from her brain.  She is just like Sherlock Holmes.  She tore a page from the notebook, and she wrote across the top of it – My Detective Skillset.  She paused and looked across the room. 

  Mrs. Irondale was standing over a group of three girls who were huddled together, listening.  Her arms were folded in front of her as she made a comment and then pointed to one of the books in the midst of them.  The girls were listening to her and one of them, a blond with curly hair, looked up and smiled.  Mrs. Irondale re-crossed her arms and smiled back. 

  Molly returned to her page and wrote – 1. OBSERVANT.  She decided then and there to focus on her soft skills not physical ones.  She quickly wrote down – 2. LISTENING and 3. NOT AFRAID TO ASK QUESTIONS. 

  “What else?” Molly whispered to herself as she reached into her backpack and retrieved her copy of ‘A Study and Scarlet’.  She opened the cover, removed another notebook page she had placed there and spread it out in front of her.  She reviewed the notes she had made of Dr. Watson’s list of the knowledge of Sherlock Holmes:  She didn’t like the sciences at all, and he knew of many of them;  Astronomy, Botany, Geology, and especially Chemistry.  Her eyes stayed on Anatomy for a second.  She was interested in that one, although she didn’t know anything about it.  She added to her list – 4. ANATOMY?  She returned to the list and frowned.  She didn’t have much similar with Sherlock Holmes.

  “Excuse me,” a voice interrupted Molly.  “Penny for your thoughts?”

  Molly looked up to see Mrs. Irondale smiling down at her.  Molly smiled back.

  “You looked troubled.  Maybe I can help you,” Mrs. Irondale offered again.

  “What do you do when you just realized you don’t know much of anything?” Molly asked.

  “That is a good question.  I am sorry, I don’t know your name yet,” Mrs. Irondale replied.

  “Oh, I’m Molly.”

  “Okay, Molly, that is a big question.  Let’s see if I can give you a good answer,” the older woman raised a hand to her hair and patted her head. “I believe what I have done when I realize that I don’t know much about something is to try to learn more about it. I am impressed that you asked yourself the question.  That is the first step to wanting to know more than what you know now.  Does that make sense?”

  Molly thought about it for a moment before responding, “I think so, but my next question would be how?”

  Mrs. Irondale had crossed her arms in front of herself again.  “I don’t think I can help you with that.”

  “Why not?” Molly asked.  “You helped me with the big question.”

  “People get to know things differently.  You have to figure that one out for yourself.”  Mrs. Irondale smiled down at her.  “Good luck, Molly.”

  Molly watched the teacher walk away from her and then returned to her list.  She began to think about the conversation she just had with Mrs. Irondale.  She added one more item to her list – 5. READING.  She reviewed her list again:

1. OBSERVANT
2. LISTENING
3. NOT AFRAID TO ASK QUESTIONS
4. ANATOMY?
5. READING

  She drew a line through Anatomy, renumbered 5 to 4, and circled the entire list and wrote next to it – Do more!

  The following Monday, Molly left her choir class and headed for her locker.  As she approached it, Harold and Bev were there waiting for her.  Over the weekend, and again at lunch, they had been talking about their detective skillsets.  Between the three of them, their skills were weak to none at all. 

  “Did you guys come up with any new skills since we talked at lunch?” Molly asked as she dialed her locker combination.

  “Nope,” Harold said leaning against the locker next to Molly’s.  Bev just laughed.

  Molly sighed, removed her English book from a shelf, added it to her backpack and closed the door.  They started to walk to the club room when Mrs. Young rushed out of the class office.  She headed straight for the front door and left the building.  Behind her, Miss Marvel appeared in the doorway, looking in the direction of Mrs. Young.  Noticing the three students standing still in the hall, she smiled.

  “That was weird, wasn’t it?” Miss Marvel said to them.  “Shall we go to our meeting?”

  Molly followed the others as they continued to the classroom where their club met.  She was wondering what upset Mrs. Young.  She glanced at Miss Marvel who was shaking her head to herself.  She wondered why she was doing that.  They entered the room and found that it was already rearranged, with their seats waiting for them.  They joined the other three members.

  “Well,” Miss Marvel said as she sat.  “I don’t have many detective skills, do you?”

  “Not really,” Bev replied as she turned the page in the club’s journal and wrote the date at the top of it.

  “I am rather good at Chemistry or so it seems.  I am taking a class this semester,” Jason volunteered.

  “My big skill is reading” Molly sighed.

  “A lot of what Holmes did was read,” Carol said.  “I read a lot, too.”

  “A lot of what Holmes is that he has learned by trial and error,” Harold added quietly.

  “What else does he do?” Miss Marvel asked.  “In one of my stories he would go undercover, and even Dr. Watson didn’t even recognize him.  He was able to blend in to obtain information about a crime.”

  “Even then,” Jason started to add. “He had an idea where he could find that information.”

  “Yeah,” Bev agreed.  “He deduced the direction of how the crime happened and who might have done it.”

  “Yes, he was good at his art,” Molly said.  “How do we do that?”

  “Practice,” Miss Marvel volunteered to them.  “But before we can make a deduction, we must practice being observant.  Let’s pick a school hour and make a list of what we observe during that hour.  At our next meeting, we will talk about what we observed.”

  “Okay,” Harold said for them as he sat up in his chair.  “But he also had experience in what to look for?”

  “What do you mean?” Carol asked him.

  “He would get on the ground to look for footprints because he knew about footprints.  He even knew the weight of someone by their footprint!  How?” Harold explained in a hurry.

  “Trial and error.  He would test what a print would look like if it were made by people of different weights,” Ted said.  “We could do some tests like that.”

  “Great idea!”  Miss Marvel agreed with him.  “I almost forgot.  Next Monday, I have friend who is a county police officer who will be attending our meeting.  He is going to bring a lab technician to talk  about fingerprinting.  We can ask them about some of this.  But we haven’t decided on the hour to be observant.”

  “How about Wednesday third hour?” Bev volunteered.

  “Okay,” Miss Marvel leaned forward.  “Wednesday third hour it is.  So what do we have to do for Monday?  No, let’s observe for two weeks since we are having a guest speaker next week.  Is that okay with all of you?”

  “Observe, Wednesday third hour and trial and error tests,” Bev said as she tapped the red notebook.  “I have it, right here.”

  “And we have to work on our skillsets,” Jason added.

  “Finally,” Miss Marvel added.  “Any ideas for a fund-raiser?”

  “When do we have to do it?” Ted asked.

  “We have to do it before the end of the school year, but I have to tell Principal Marti what we are going to do.  I am learning that she does not like duplication.”

  “Good,” Ted replied.  “Because I have a different idea.”

To be continued…

Molly set the dining room table for dinner in a thoughtful mood.  On the Activity bus ride home, she had an interesting conversation with her two friends.

  “Well, what did you think of the first meeting of The Whodunnit Club?” Harold had asked as they sat in their bus seats.

  “I don’t know yet,” Bev admitted as she slid across toward the window, allowing Molly to sit down.

  Harold stretched his legs across the seat he was sitting on in front of the two girls.  He leaned his head on the window and said, “I think it is just another class.”

  “What?” Molly said and quickly added, “Why?”

  “We have to read,” Harold said as he closed his eyes.

  Molly shook her head before asking them, “What book did you guys get anyway?”

  “The thinnest one possible,” Harold responded.  “I think it is called ‘His Last Bow’.”

  “I grabbed an anthology, too,” Bev spoke up as she reached inside her backpack.  “Unlike Harold, I like to read.  Here it is…’The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes’.  So what did you get, Molly?”

  “’A Study in Scarlet’,” Molly leaned back to rest her head on the back of her seat.  “Apparently, it is the first story about Sherlock Holmes.”

  “I still don’t like to read,” Harold closed his eyes.

  After dinner and the disclosing of her day to her family, Molly retreated to her upstairs bedroom.  Her room was average size holding a full-size bed, a dresser, and a desk.  Her bed flowed out from beneath the window, her dresser is next to her closet on the bed’s left, and her desk is in the corner to the right of the bed.  The walls were painted light purple, blank, except for the bulletin board above her desk. Posted on the bulletin board, Molly placed the things that made her happy.  A family photo is pinned on the lower right corner, a drawing her brother had made for her of a sunflower is at the top left, and beneath it, the strip of three photos from one of those photo booths at the mall of her and her new friends, Harold and Bev.  She smiled when she looked at it as she remembered that day, her first trip to Jamestown Mall.

  Molly sat at the chair to her desk and turned her desk lamp on.  She reached down to recover her backpack that she had thrown on the floor and placed it on her lap. She withdrew the three books she had placed in there when she left school earlier in the day and returned the backpack to the floor.  She spread the three books in front of her.  Inside her Math book, she had placed a math worksheet there she had to finish.  She also had two chapters to read in American History.  The third book was “A Study in Scarlet” by Arthur Conan Doyle. 

  She looked at its cover for a few moments trying to decide what to do.  The title was scripted in bright red letters with long twirls coming from the overlarge letter S in Study and Scarlet.  The best way she could describe it was, fancy.  She was curious.  She opened the book and turned the two pages that are a second title page and a dedication, to the table of contents.  The novel was written in two parts.  Part I. had no title, but Part II did, The Country of the Saints.  Each part had seven chapters but two of them jumped out at her, Chapter I.  Mr. Sherlock Holmes and Chapter II.  The Science of Deduction. She pushed her Math and History book to the side and placed the mystery novel in front of her.  She opened the desk drawer and pulled a notebook from within it, opened it, and at the top of the page, she wrote with a pencil, “Mr. Sherlock Holmes”.  She then turned the page of the book to ‘PART I, Chapter I. Mr. Sherlock Holmes’.  She held the pencil in her hand, ready to take notes, and began to read.

  Time flew, writing feverishly as she read the first two chapters.  She cried out joyfully in the midst of Chapter II, that Dr. Watson had listed “Sherlock Holmes – His Limits” and she happily recopied them on her paper.  She reviewed her list and was so excited by what she had learned that she began to read her notes out loud.

“Obviously, this story is told by Dr. Watson, an army doctor injured in the line of duty.  He met Sherlock Holmes through an old friend when he was looking to share an apartment.  Sherlock Holmes knows: Anatomy, Chemistry, can verify how far bruises can be produced after death, and uncovered an infallible test for blood stains.  He has shortcomings, gets down in the dumps at times and doesn’t speak for days and simply asks to be left alone and he will be all right, but no medical or science degree or anything that would give him portal into the real world.  Dr. Watson is so confused.  Why did I write that?” Molly paused in her reading and scratched that last sentence. Picked up the notebook again and began to read out loud again.  “He was ignorant of the Copernican Theory that the earth revolves around the sun, explaining that he didn’t like to fill up his brain with clutter.  He called his brain an attic to be filled with things a person needs to do their thing.  Ah, Watson’s List is next.  I will skip that and finish what I found.  Holmes revealed that – the Science of deduction and analysis is an art only acquired by long and patient study, but a person is never able to attain the highest possible perfection in it because life is short.  He also knows the history of crime.  Wow, this is a fairly good list and I have only read the first two chapters,” Molly concluded her reading, pretty proud of herself. 

The following Monday, The Whodunnit Club had resumed their circle of desks.  Miss Marvel is sitting at a student desk on one end and the others sat in clockwise order, in what would become their seating chart, to her left, Bev, Molly, Ted, Carol, Harold and Jason.  On the top of the desk she sat at, Miss Marvel had a book and a red spiral notebook.

  “First,” Miss Marvel leaned in as she spoke to them.  “We need a scribe.”

  “What’s a scribe?” Carol asked. Leaning forward, too.

  “A secretary,” Ted looked at Carol.  “Someone to take notes.”

  “Exactly,” Miss Marvel agreed.

  “I’ll do it,” Bev raised her hand.  “I can do it.”

  “Thank you, Bev,” Miss Marvel handed her the red spiraled notebook and then folded her hands on top of the book.  “Okay, tell us when you are ready.”

  “Ready,” Bev turned the page in the notebook.  She wrote the date on the first line.

  “Let’s go around our circle and simply state the book we read, or are reading, about Sherlock Holmes.  It is okay that we may be reading the same book because we may have made different lists.  I am reading ‘The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes.”

  “Me, too!” Bev added excitedly and then wrote it down.

  It turned out that Ted and Carol were reading ‘The Memoirs of Sherlock Holmes’, Jason was reading ‘The Return of Sherlock Holmes’ and Harold was reading ‘The Last Bow’.  All of them were reading anthologies except Molly who was the only one reading one of his novels.

  “Now,” Miss Marvel said.  “What are his skills?”

  Bev finished writing the long list as they went around the circle and shared what they learned about Sherlock Holmes.  There were many duplications, and, in the end, the group agreed on a short list of skills.

  “Please re-read the list to us, Bev,” Carol told their scribe.

  “Okay,” Bev raised the notebook slightly toward her.  “He understood the sciences, chemistry, botany, biology, geology, psychology, and the study of the brain.  He was observant and a detail analysis of physical evidence.  He asked questions and listened then made deductions based on known facts.”

  “A lot of science,” Harold stated.

  “Yes, well,” Miss Marvel leaned in to stop any more conversation.  “For our next meeting, come with a list of your detective skillset.  Now, before we go, I was informed today that every club has to have a fund-raiser for the school.  Please have some ideas at our next meeting, too.”  She looked around the circle, smiled at them, and stood up before continuing, “I hope you keep reading about Sherlock Holmes.  I know I will.  See you in school.”

  The chairs squealed as they all stood up and followed her out of the door.

To be continued…

Molly, Bev, and Harold assembled at her locker when the final bell released them from their sixth hour classes.  Molly collected the books she needed to complete homework that night and pushed them into her backpack.

  “So the Whodunnit Club, what do you think this club is all about?” Harold asked as he hoisted his backpack higher on his back.

  “I don’t know,” Bev had already unwrapped a Tootsie Roll Pop and waved it at him.

  “I guess we are going to find out,” Molly said as she closed her locker door and spun its combination lock.

  The three friends started to walk toward Hall 01. Molly draped her backpack over her right shoulder, wondering about the club and, most of all, who is Miss Marvel.  She had decided to dress up for the day and was actually wearing a dress.  Her favorite.  Powder blue and it reached for but not quite met her knees.  She wore a white, long cardigan sweater over it.  The only item she always wore were her bright red high-top tennis shoes.  She wasn’t going to get that dressed up. 

  “What room do we meet in?” Bev asked as they neared the hallway.

  “Room 101,” Molly answered looking down at her hand where she had written the room number.  “My homeroom.” 

  They turned left into the hallway and a quick turn into the first room on the right.  They paused at the door and saw three students already there.  The three of them, two boys and a girl, looked up at Molly, Bev, and Harold.  Molly smiled and walked toward them as Bev and Harold followed her.

  “Hi,” Molly said as she half waved again to the people in the chairs.  “I’m Molly.  This is Bev and Harold.  To get it over with, we are all in sixth grade.  You?”

  “I’m Jason and I am in eighth grade,” the boy with dark, almost black, hair that hung over his left eye spoke first.

  “I’m Carol, “ the black girl with a brilliant, bright smile spoke next.  “I am in sixth grade and I am in your Choir class, Molly.  I sing soprano.”

  “That’s right,” Molly said to her.  “I thought I recognized you.”

  “I’m Ted.  Seventh,” the final boy half waved to them.  He was blond with dark eyebrows.  “We were just talking.”

  “About?”  Harold asked as he slid into a desk that was next to Ted.

  “We were wondering about this club,”  Carol answered.  “The Whodunnit Club.”

  “Sounds mysterious,” Bev stated as she sat next to Harold leaving Molly as the only one still standing.

  “It must be a mystery club,” Molly said as she sat down completing the circle of six.

  “Like Scooby-Doo,”  Jason laughed.  “I’m Fred.”

  They became silent, waiting in their seats when Molly heard footsteps approaching in a quiet cadence.  She turned her head toward the door when Miss Marvel walked through it.  The assistant principal smiled at her.  She was dressed today in a long, pink dress that fell to her ankles.  There was a floral pattern on it, and she wore a light pink sweater with sleeves stopping mid-length on her arms.  Her red hair was pulled up into a high ponytail and when she smiled, her green eyes sparkled.  She continued to walk toward them, pulled a desk around to face them and quietly sat on its chair.

  “Hi, I’m Miss Marvel.  I have met Molly and Beverly but who are the rest of you?”

  The group went around the circle introducing themselves to her.  With each introduction, Miss Marvel reached out her hand and shook each person’s hand.

  “This is it, The Whodunnit Club,” she said.  “We seven, a perfect number, are The Whodunnit Club.  What do you think we are about?”

  “A mystery club,” Jason replied to her as he sat up in his chair.

  “A mystery club, yes!” Miss Marvel exclaimed.  “But not just a mystery club but a mystery solving club!”

  “What mysteries are there to solve at SLMS?” Bev asked skeptically.

  “I can think of one,” Molly volunteered.

  “You can?” Harold turned and looked at her.  “What?”

  “Miss Marvel,” Molly turned from Harold to look at Miss Marvel.

  Miss Marvel looked at Molly, smiled at her and then she admitted.  “I don’t know yet, but we are going to get prepared.”

  “How?” Carol asked sitting up in her chair.

  “Well, I think we need to study the best detective ever known,” Miss Marvel leaned forward.  “Sherlock Holmes.”

  “Who is Sherlock Holmes?” Jason asked, leaning back in his chair.

  “He’s a detective,” Carol answered him.  “A fictional detective.”

  All eyes turned toward her with wondering looks on their faces.

  “What? I read a lot,”  Carol explained.

  “So,” Miss Marvel interjected saving Carol from the questioning looks. “How many of you, besides Carol, heard of Sherlock Holmes.”

  No one responded.

  “As Carol said, he is a fictional detective written by a doctor, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.  Holmes has a skillset that is a good toolkit for any detective.  It seems we need a trip to the library.”  Miss Marvel stood and smiled at them.  “You may leave your backpacks here.”

  With that, she turned and walked to the door, turned around and waited for them.  Molly stood up and walked toward the door.  The remaining five students rose as Miss Marvel turned to the right and walked out of the room.

  “Last one out, please close the door,” she called behind her as the rest of the club scurried into the hallway.  Harold shut the door and hurried to catch up with the bewildered teenagers as they followed their sponsor down the hall to the last room on the right.  As they entered the library, Miss Marvel led them to the wrap around ledge that surrounded the working area of the school’s librarian.  She turned to face them as they surrounded her.

  “We need to do some research.  I guess this is our first mystery to solve, who is Sherlock Holmes?  I must admit that I know a little bit about him but, truthfully, not a lot.  I know he was written by Doyle.  I think to start we need to find these Sherlock Holmes books.”

  “Most of them are short stories,” Carol informed the group.  “There are anthologies of them.”

  “Good, let’s look for those,” Miss Marvel said and turned to the desk and reached over the counter.  She blindly felt around, stretching onto her tiptoes, and when she finally found what she was looking for, she stood up holding a huge index card box in her hands.  She placed it on the shelf and opened it.  Her fingers began to rifle through the cards and pulled one out.

  “Sir Arthur Conan Doyle,” she read to them. “Section 813, English Literature, fiction.”

  “Let’s go,” Ted said as he led them to the far corner of the library.

  The Dewey Decimal markings were on the front of each bookshelf with bright yellow labels with bold, black letters.  They found 813 mid-way down the aisle of shelves.  They scampered down the aisle looking for Arthur Conan Doyle in the alphabetical setting of books.  Bev found them first ad the others nudged next to her.  There were several titles containing Sherlock Holmes with several copies of each, The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes, The Memoirs of Sherlock Holmes, The Return of Sherlock Holmes, His Last Bow – Some Reminiscences of Sherlock Holmes, among them.  There were a few other Arthur Conan Doyle titles, too.

  “I know the first Sherlock Holmes book was A Study in Scarlet,” Carol remarked as they continued to stare at the many books in front of them.

  “Everyone, select a book.  Fill out the card for the book and leave it on the desk,”  Miss Marvel said as she reached for one and pulled it from the others.  “Bring it back to our room and we will talk.”

  Each student reached for a book and followed her.  Molly took a minute looking for a specific title, reached up when she found it, and pulled A Study in Scarlet from its resting place on the shelf.

  Back in Room 101, the group had returned to their circle.  When they had all settled into place with their book selections in front of them on their desks, Miss Marvel began to speak.

  “Here is our task for next week.  We are to read our books, keep track of what methods Sherlock Holmes uses to solve the mystery, and we will make a list of those skills next Monday.  Agreed?”

  The Whodunnit Club nodded their heads in agreement.

  Molly spread her hands over the cover of the book she selected, “A Study in Scarlet”. She wondered what she would learn about Mr. Holmes.

To be continued…

“Molly how was your first day of middle school?” her father asked as they sat down for supper.

  “It was different,” she answered him as she reached across the table for the bowl of mashed potatoes.

  “Oh young lady,” her mother’s voice stopped her.  “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

  “Oh, yeah,” Molly reached her left hand toward her Dad and her right toward her Mom.  She looked across the table at her nine-year-old brother, Billy, who was doing the same thing, grinning back at her.  The family had formed a circle around the table and began to say grace together.  When they were finished, they dropped their hands.

  “We also ask for items to be passed to them.  We don’t reach across the table,” Mom continued to remind them how to behave at the table.  “So, Molly, how was your day?’

  “As I was saying, please pass the mashed potatoes,” she interrupted her story looking at her Mom.  “It was different but what I expected.  It was a little nerve wracking going from class to class every hour.  Tomorrow I have different classes to do it all over again.”

  “Different classes? And please pass me those potatoes when you are done,” Dad asked her.

  “Please pass the green beans, Mom?” Molly asked as she handed the bowl of mashed potatoes to her father.  “Yeah, Dad, on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, I have Choir and Home Economics along with the required classes but on Tuesday and Thursday instead of Home Economics and Choir, I have Resources and P. E.”

  “Resources? What’s that?” Billy asked her he stuffed a piece of pork chop into his mouth.

  “I don’t know.  I guess I will find out tomorrow,” Molly answered him.  “Mom, can you pass me the pork chops, please?”

  The dining table remained quiet except for the sounds of people eating.  The forks clinked on plates, spoons plopped potatoes on them, too, and the slurping of Billy drinking his milk.

  “My day,” Billy suddenly stated.  “Was interesting, too.  You know, I am fourth grade now and in my reading group we are using computers to read books.”

  “Really?” Mom said.  “Books on computers?  How does that work?”

  “There are about twenty kids in our class…”

  “How do you know that?” Dad interrupted him.

  “I counted,” Billy paused in his story. He was a numbers freak.  “We are divided into groups of four and during the day we rotate around the room for our various topics and, for reading, we use the corner of the room that has the four computers.”

  “You don’t have a desk?” Dad asked.

  “We do have desks, but they are spread out along the outside of the room.  It is weird.  Mrs. Weatherby is a little weird.  We start the day by dragging our chairs into the center of the room and then divide into groups in each corner of the room.”

  “This is new to me,” Dad said.

  “To me, too.“ Billy agreed with him.

  “How do you keep things straight?” Molly asked him as she reached for her glass of milk.

  “I don’t know,”  Billy looked across the table at her.  “It is only the first day of school.”

  “Oh, that reminds me,” Molly put her milk glass back down on the table.  “They have after-school clubs and if I want to participate, I have to have you sign a permission slip.”

  “Why me?” Billy asked her.

  “Not you! Mom or Dad,”  Molly shook her head at him.

  “But I was talking,” Billy argued.

  “He’s right, Molly,”  Mom said to her and then looked at her son.  “Go on, honey,”

  “I don’t have anything else.  I am done,” Billy spooned some potatoes and stuffed them into his mouth.  He opened his mouth wide and looked at Molly.

  Molly shook her head at him, looked at her Mom and then her dad.

  “What club are you interested in?” Dad asked her.

  “It meets on Mondays and apparently it is a new club.  It’s called The Whodunnit Club.”

  The next morning, Molly, Harold and Bev entered Spanish Lake Middle School through the main door.  They were silent on the bus.

  “Well, see you guys later,” Harold said to the two girls and headed toward Hall 03.

  Molly and Bev turned toward Hall 02 and English class.  Molly paused at the doorway to the Sixth Grade Office.

  “I have to leave my permission slip here,” she said to Bev.

  “I’ll come with you,” Bev said to her and walked into the room.

  Molly followed her inside.  At the desk, a group of students were lined up listening to Mrs. Young on the other side of it.

  “If you want to change a class, you have to talk to your Guidance Counselor.  If your name begins with A to N, visit Mr.  Quitman in Hall B, Office 01.  If your name begins with O to Z, your counselor is Mrs. Rea in Hall B, Office 02.  Before you ask, people, Hall B is the hall where the cafeteria is.  This Hall is A.  Hurry along.”

  The group turned and scampered past Molly and Bev out into the hall.  Mrs. Young shook her head and noticed the two girls standing before her.

  “Well, hello Molly,” she said to Molly and leaned on the top of the desk.  “Who is this?”

  “Mrs. Young, this is my friend Bev, Beverly Matthews,” Molly introduced her friend.

  “How do you do, Bev,” Mrs. Young stretched her hand toward Bev.

  As Bev reached to shake it, the door inside the office opened and out stepped Miss Marvel.

  “Well, hello again Molly,” she paused in front of the sixth grader.  “How are you today?”

  “Fine, Miss Marvel,” Molly grinned at her.  “I came in to leave my parent permission slip to join a club.”

  “Really? Which one?” Miss Marvel asked her.

  “The Whodunnit Club.”

  “Ahh, I see,” Miss Marvel replied, smiled at her, looked at Bev and turned to Mrs. Young.  “When the first bell rings, Mrs. Young, will you come see me in my office?”

  “Sure will, Mis Marvel,” Mrs. Young confirmed the request.  “At first bell.”

  “Thank you,” Miss Marvel looked back at the two girls.  “Now, girls, don’t be late to class.”  She turned and went back into her office.

  Molly could see into the office and spied the corner of a desk that had one of those “In” and “Out” baskets on the corner of it.  In the corner of the room that she could see, behind the desk, was a file cabinet with a plant with long vines reaching down from the top of it.  Miss Marvel turned in the doorway and quietly closed the door.

  “Is she our class principal, Mrs. Young?”  Bev asked the older woman at the desk.

  “Yes,” Mrs. Young answered.  “And I like her.  She is right about class and you don’t want to be late.  Molly, hand me your slip and show Bev where she can get her own parent permission form to take home.”

  “How did you know?”  Molly asked the secretary as she handed her the slip.

  “You just told Miss Marvel, silly,” Mrs. Young laughed.  “And I know Bev is your friend and she just got interested in clubs.”

To be continued…

Molly left fifth hour which was in Hall 01.  She was surprised that all of her teachers, so far, have included the zero when they announced halls.  For example, saying ‘Hall Oh-One” instead of simply ‘Hall one’.  She stopped at the bulletin board located on the wall on the corner of the Main Hall and Hall 03.  There were several notices posted on it, but she was looking for the information related to the clubs.  She found it posted on the right side at the bottom of the board.  Again, it listed all of the clubs like the Student Handbook but his time it included the day of the week they would meet after school.   Most of them met on Wednesday or Thursday, except for the sport activities.  She quickly read down the list to the bottom to The Whodunnit Club.  It was the only club that met on Monday at 2:15 p.m.  The notice also said they had to have a signed parent permission slip and those could be picked up at their class office.  Molly headed for her class office.  She had learned earlier in the day that her class office was the first one on the Main Hall in between Hall 01 and Hall 02.  She went directly there and found the door open.  She walked up to the half-wall that served as a desk directly inside the room.  A heavy-set woman was seated at a desk just on the other side of the wall.  She looked up as Molly walked into the room.

  “May I help you?” she asked Molly.

  “Yes, please.  I would like a club parent permission form,” Molly said in reply.

  The woman pushed her chair back, stood up, walked around her desk, and approached Molly.  She reached beneath the wall and pulled a piece of paper to the top of it.

  “Here you go Miss…” she dragged out the Miss, waiting for Molly.

  “My name is Molly, Molly Bennett,” Molly stated complying with the hint.

  “Nice to meet you Molly,” the woman offered her hand which Molly took with a quick shake.  “My name is Mrs. Young and I am happy to be your secretary.  Here you go.  You are the first one to request a permission form.  But, dearie, you need to hurry to your next class because the bell is about to ring.  We can chat another time.”

  Molly smiled at her, turned, and left the office.  Mrs. Young looked like she could be quite a character, she thought to herself.  Her last class of the day, at least on Wednesday, was music.  She chose that as one of her elective classes, and she was glad it was at the end of the day.  It was in Hall 03, Room 312, which she had remembered was the last room of that hallway.  She decided to walk a little faster when the bell rang.  She decided to jog to her class.  As she turned onto Hall 03, she almost ran into a teacher but luckily the teacher heard her coming and was flat against the wall.

  “Slow down,” the soft female voice called out to her.  “The classroom isn’t going anywhere.”

  Molly turned to face the teacher to apologize.  She found herself looking at a tall, red haired woman that had it pulled back into a ponytail.  She was wearing a pale green suit complete with a bright red tie.  She was smiling at Molly with her hands folded in front of her.

  “I am sorry, ma’am,” Molly said quickly avoiding her eyes which were green.

  “You are forgiven,” the teacher responded. “Hello, my name is Miss Marvel and you are?”

  “Molly Bennett,” Molly offered her hand.  “How do you do?”

  Miss Marvel shook her hand and held it for a second forcing Molly to look at her.  “Nice to meet you, Molly.  Just slow down.  Well, see you around.” 

  Molly stepped back and started down the hall.  She carefully walked away from Miss Marvel listening for the teacher to retreat down the hall but heard nothing.  She stopped and turned to look to see if she was still there.  The hallway was empty.  She shrugged and went to Room 312.

  When she entered the room, she heard the teacher call out her name, “Molly Bennett.”

  “Here,” she said raising her hand.

  The teacher turned toward her and smiled, “Welcome to Choir.  My name is Mr. Eichelberger but you may call me Ike.  For now, Miss Bennett, sit in the second row of chairs in the second seat.”

  Molly turned to see the room had a set of risers with three rows of chairs plus a row on the floor in front of them.  Students were standing around the room waiting for their names to be called to find their seats.  A boy on the second row at the far right padded the seat beside him signaling to Molly that this was her seat.  She certainly hoped it is a temporary seating chart.  She walked to the chair and yanked her backpack to the floor in between her chair and his chair.

  “Hello,” he whispered.  “I’m Derrick and I am in seventh grade and you are?”

  “Molly, sixth grade,” Molly replied as she folded her arms in front of her.

  After roll call, “Ike” walked over to the piano and played a series of notes on it and began to sing, “Fa-la-la-la-laaa.”

  He paused and played the same notes a step higher and began to sing again, “Fa-la-la-la-laaa.” 

  He stopped again and said, “Okay, this time sing with me.  Fa-la…”

  The class followed his instructions and began to sing with him as he led them through the notes to the next octave.

  “Now, this time I am going to ask each of you to sing the scale solo with the piano only.  Don’t be shy.  I am simply trying to get you assigned to the different singing parts we will learn this year.“

  The choir was finally set, and Molly found herself sitting just a few seats to the right from where she started in the same row.  She was placed with the Altos and was sitting between two eighth graders who had tried to sit next to each other, but Ike insisted on having Molly split them.  He had said to them when he did so, “And you know why?”

  The bell rang releasing them into the hallways who were scampering with people heading for the exits as the school day ended.  Molly stopped at her locker and dumped the books she had received after lunch into it and turned to go to her bus.  She pushed open the door and a small group rushed by her.  Harold stood just outside of the door with hands pulling at the straps to his backpack.  He is smiling at her.

  “Hi,” Molly said to him as she stepped toward him.

  “Hi,” Harold turned as they walked side by side.  “How was your first day of SLMS?”

  “SLMS?” Molly asked him as they slowly approached their bus.

  “Spanish Lake Middle School – SLMS,” Harold stopped at the door to the bus allowing her to ascend into it first.  He followed her to the first available seat for two and sat beside her.

  “it was interesting,” Molly finally answered him.  “Most of the teachers seemed okay.  I literally ran into Miss Marvel in the hall.”

  “What’s up?”  Bev flopped into the seat behind them.

  “Molly was just telling me that she knocked Miss Marvel down in the hallway,” Harold said watching Molly squint her eyes at him.

  “Not true,” Molly turned to face Bev.  “I ran into her.”

  Bev laughed and sat back in her seat as the bus moved forward.

  “I didn’t actually hit her.  She dodged me but I met her.”

  “So what do you think of her?” Harold asked as he sat back and closed his eyes.

  Molly sat back before she answered him.  She thought about how she turned to look behind herself and Miss Marvel was gone. 

  “I think,” Molly said sitting back and closing her eyes. “Mysterious.”

To be continued…