To read the previous Twirl, go here.

For my new Invisible Friends, Twirl is the story of a feisty, sassy ballerina named Vivi and her handsome cowboy named Wade. After falling in love swaying on the dance floor to the sound of a fiddle and steel guitar, the couple have stumbled onto a old Texas legend that might possibly lead to riches! On top of everything, Vivi is fighting her controlling father and over involved dance teacher, who are trying to trap her into a life she may not want. Add in a mysterious secret with her mother, a scheming evil boy in her dance class and regular teen angst and you’ve got DRAMA!

To catch up in the archives, go here and here. Or e-mail me and I’ll send you the word document of what I’ve posted.
—————————————————————————————————————————————————–

As the sun began to lower behind the trees, Wade gathered Vivi in his arms as they swayed side to side.  Vivi smiled, leaning up to brush a smear of dirt from his cheek.  As Wade lowered his head, a discreet cough made them both jump.  Whirling around, Vivi saw a wiry old cowboy grinning at them with a cigar clenched between his teeth.

“Miss Vivi, I presume?” he asked in a voice that sounded like a bag of gravel.

“And you must be Wade’s grandfather,” Vivi said with a smile, holding out her hand.  In a moment of panic, she realized she’d forgotten Wade’s last name.  Had she ever known it?  It hadn’t seen important at the time.

“Just call me Red,” he said.  His blue eyes twinkled as the creases around his eyes deepened, like lines etched in leather.  Clasping his rough, calloused hand around Vivi’s, he peered closely at her.  Vivi stared back, unsure of what she was supposed to do or say.  With a smile, the man nodded.

“Wade, you gonna feed this girl or let her starve all night?” he demanded, turning to his grandson.  “I had to fix the brisket myself.  You were too busy out here doing God knows what.”

“Dancing, Grandpa,” Wade answered in a weary tone.  He winked at Vivi and took her hand.  “You and Grandma used to dance all the time, so don’t be giving me any lip.”  He turned to Vivi and confided, “He and my grandma used to compete at dancehalls all over Texas.  They were really good.”

Red snorted, his whiskered cheeks brightening with a pink tinge.  “Liar.”

“You’re the one with the medals,” Wade said mildly.  Red snorted again and gnawed on his cigar.  Hobbling to a small brick house, he spat in the dirt. Vivi and Wade followed him, stepping over rocks and around patches of wayward cactus.  In the falling dusk, no one saw the dark figure that scurried behind them.

“Excuse me, Miss Vivi,” Red drawled as he spat again.  Wiping his mouth, he hid his eyes under his hat brim and rubbed his hand on his worn Wranglers.  “We’re not used to having ladies around these parts.  We tend to act pretty rough.”  Wade nodded in agreement, his boots treading easily over the smooth cement porch.  Red held the thick front pine door open and Wade gestured for her to enter.

The moment Vivi stepped into the house, she had no problem believing them.  While clean and neat, the walls were bare except for a collection of arrowheads and some framed pencil drawings.  Worn leather couches and chairs were scattered around tables that looked like they’d been dragged on one too many trail rides.  A jumbo television took up most of the room and a guitar leaned in the corner.  The kitchen looked like it hadn’t been touched in years and a single lamp burned.  It was most definatley a bachelor pad.

“Food’s in here,” Red said gruffly, hobbling to the corner of the kitchen with a old pine table.  Brisket, potato salad, beans and cornbread were steaming from thick earthenware bowls.  Grabbing a bundle of chipped and mismatched plates and a couple of soft drinks, Wade pulled out Vivi’s chair.  Handing her a plate and a bottle of coke, he plopped down at the table.

“Did you get that stuff out of the truck?” his grandfather demanded.

“What?” Wade asked.

“Picnic stuff from yesterday,” Red reminded him.  “That you and Vivi went at at Morsi’s place when you rode the horses.”

Wade shook his head.  “Forgot.”

“You best get it,” his grandfather warned.  “You’ll get ants in your truck.”

Wade sawed off a chunk of brisket and poured barbecue sauce over it.  “Well, that’s when I found that paper about Bullet Bill and the whole dancehall mystery.  I just forgot.”

“Dancehall mystery?” Red set down his forkful of potato salad.  “Bullet Bill?  What are you talking about?”

Wade told him the whole story.  Shaking his head, Red let out a long whistle.

“Well, hell,” he said, staring at his plate.  Rubbing his wrinkled forehead, he pushed away from the table and disappeared in the back of the house.

“Where’s he going?” Vivi asked.

“Don’t know,” Wade said with a shrug.  “He’ll be back.”

Although curiosity burned inside of her, Vivi pretended to focus on cutting her brisket into tiny pieces.  As she took bite after bite, she listened for the sound of footsteps on wood floors.  A few moments later, she heard Red’s boots shuffling across the floor.  He appeared holding a black wooden box.

“I guess it’s time to tell you this,” he said.

And from the other side of the kitchen window, a pair of watching eyes grew wide….

To be continued…

Stay tuned, Invisible Friends! Tomorrow we have a delicious recipe and Friday, the Rubber Chicken and his search for the Fuzzy Duck!  And this weekend, you’ll get a peek at Valentine’s Day at the Pond!  Stay tuned!

More