You are formerly invited

To the Pond Puppy Ball.

Held in the evening on the second of June.

Creatures big and small,

Fur and feathered,

Far and near,

Come one, come all.

Her royal Majesty,

The revered Queen Bitty,

Will host an evening of dancing, games and delectable dining.

RSVP by e-mailing the Blond Duck by May 28.

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To read the previous Twirl, go here.

For my new Invisible Friends, Twirl is the story of a star-crossed ballerina named Vivi and her handsome cowboy named Wade, who have stumbled into a international ballet scandal and a old Texas legend that might possibly lead to riches! To catch up in the archives, go to the Never Ending Stories Tab at the top of the page.

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The man extended his hand.  “Wade, I presume?” he asked, shaking Wade’s hand.  “I spoke to you on the phone earlier.  I’m Mr. Peters.  And this must be Vivi.”  He pressed his small, fleshy hand to Vivi’s for a moment too long.  It made her skin crawl.

“What bad news?” she asked, peering around his shoulder into the window of the Satin Belle Tea Room.

Mr. Peters ran his fingers up and down his suspenders, his brow crinkled.  “Well, the secretary told me you two were interested in reading Dancing Wolf’s historic novel.”

“We’d like to take a look at it, yes,” Wade replied.  “It’s for a project for school.”  Vivi forced herself not to giggle.  Mr. Peter’s raised eyebrows looked like two caterpillars racing to crawl off his balding forehead.

The short museum manager twirled his bowtie, shoving his thick glasses up on his nose.   “That’s the bad news, I’m afraid,” he blurted out.  “It appears our director sent the book out this morning to a university professor.”

Vivi felt her body grow cold.  Her lips felt like stone as her words were forced between them.  “Would you happen to know which professor checked it out?”

Mr. Peters shook his head.  “I’m afraid I can’t reveal that.”

“Are you sure?” Wade asked with a wide smile.  “See, Vivi’s dad is a professor.  She’s just curious to see if she knows them.”  Vivi gave him a brief glance.  He nodded with a small wink in her direction.  Smothering a smile, Vivi smoothed her face into a innocent expression.

An educational snob, Mr. Peters beamed.  “Oh!  Well, certainly then.  I suppose it couldn’t hurt, if her father is an academic scholar like us.”   Scurrying through the door of the Satin Belle Tea Room, Vivi and Wade hurried behind him as the large wooden door shut behind them.  The museum smelled like mothballs and old books.  A dusty organ had been shoved next to a leaning bookshelf filled with ancient texts.

Hurrying after Mr. Peters, Vivi stared at the stiff furniture in the room.  Her dance sneakers creaked across the floorboards, the rubber soles squeaking as she padded across the waxy wood.  Flipping on a light, Mr. Peters ducked into a small room that looked like the scene of a office supply murder.  Digging through stacks of papers and various boxes and containers, he emerged with a clipboard.  A piece of duck tape dangled from his bow tie.

“Ah, here it is!” Mr. Peters crowed.  Peering at the small lettering on the page, he read aloud, “Margaret Clark, history professor at the University of Texas Spring Branch.”

Vivi’s heart plummeted to her toes and her stomach twisted into knots.  She glanced at Wade.  His jaw was tight, but his blue eyes looked worried.

“Do you know her?” Mr. Peters asked, his eyes shining.  “She is a wonderful scholar.  Brilliant in her work on this area.”

“You could say that,” Wade drawled.  His forearms were tensed and his eyes had turned hard.  Taking his hand, Vivi nudged him in the side.  Mr. Peter’s caterpillar eyebrows began to crawl toward the ceiling as he peered at them.   “Why do you say”–

“I’ll ask my dad if he knows her,” Vivi blurted out quickly, smiling at Mr. Peters.  “Thanks so much.”

“Any time,” Mr. Peters replied, placing the clipboard back on the stacks of papers.  “What’s your project on, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“The legend of Bullet Bill,” Vivi replied, ignoring Wade’s hand squeezing hers.  “I’ve only been in town a few years, so it’s new to me.”

Mr. Peters sniffed, twirling his bow tie as his thick glasses slid toward the floor on his greasy nose.  “I can’t imagine why you’d come to a historic gem such as this to research that fairy tale.  It’s been done a million times.”  He flung his arm out and pointed towards the right wall of his office.  “Why, the dance hall next door would have more information.  Legend had it Bullet Bill had a special “office” there.  He was said to leave instructions for his men, though none were ever found.”  The man sneered.  “Trite, isn’t it?  A murderer and a thief gets more attention than a group of reputable women or established old family…You know, I’m simply astounded by the misguided attempts–”

Vivi opened her mouth, but Wade squeezed her fingers. “Well, I appreciate the help, Mr. Peters,” he interrupted, shaking the man’s hand.  “Thanks so much.”

“Yes,” Mr. Peters drawled, pressing his limp hand to his.  “Anytime.  Perhaps you’ll look us up on your next, more substational project.”

Mr. Peters did not seem sorry to see them go as they hurried out the old church and over to the dance hall.  Flinging open the wooden doors of the dance hall,  Wade and Vivi paid the cover and squeezed their way through the crowd of regulars.  The dance hall was small and smelled like old wood and horses.  Women’s bras and garters hung from chandeliers carved of deer horns.  A pool table lay in one corner next to three old pinball machines.  By the bar, a jukebox wailed and a stuffed jackrabbit peered out at the room.  Low wooden tables were scattered across the dining area, with only a doorway separating it from the dancehall.

“What do you think he meant by office?” Vivi yelled over the racket as they pushed their way through toward the dance hall.

“I’m  not sure,” Wade yelled back.  “Do you want anything to eat?”

Vivi shook her head.  “All I want to do is find this clue!” she shouted in his ear.  “It’s driving me nuts!”

Wade nodded, squeezing her hand.  “Let’s talk about it somewhere more private.”  He threaded past the bar with Vivi in tow and pulled her onto the dance floor.

“That’s much better,” he mumbled, pressing his lips to her hair.  “Much better.”

Vivi scowled and poked him in the chest.  “Wade, I want to find the clue!  It’s got to be around here somewhere.  And if Margaret went after the book, you know we’re on the right track.”

“That’s what we’re doing,” Wade replied, lifting his arm so Vivi twirled across the floor.  “We’re finding the clue.”  A giggle burst through her lips automatically.  Wade spun her through the air, swirling across the floor before bending her back in a dip.   His blue eyes gazed into hers and he lowered his head for a kiss.  After a moment that was all too short, he lifted her back up and settled into a slow waltz as the band moved to a new song.  Vivi sighed.

“We’re not thinking about the clue,” she argued, leaning her head against his shoulder.  “We’re dancing.”

“That’s the best kind of thinking,” Wade grinned.

Swaying to the music, Vivi let the sound of the fiddle and steel guitar wash over her.  She wondered if Addi had ever danced with Bullet Bill, if she had ever felt his arms wrapped around her.  It was almost as if she could see Addi in her mind—wide eyes crazed with grief, exhausted from crying and waiting.  She imagined the agony of waiting for days for a single letter, knowing that she might never see the love of her life again.  Tightening her hold around Wade’s waist, Vivi nestled deeper into his shoulder.  He stroked her hair, leaning his cheek against her head.

As they twirled around the dance floor, the neon lights and laughter surrounded them.  Whirling in a daze of contentment, Vivi’s eyes skimmed over room.  Beer posters and old photographs hung from the wooden walls and cowboy hats and spurs hung from the ceiling, dangling in the glow of the neon lights.  On the far left wall next to a folding table stacked with burned CDs for sale lay a glass display case.  Vivi glanced at the old guns and ancient shot glasses before noticing what lay in the center of the third shelf of the case.  Her eyes widened.  Tapping Wade’s shoulder, she leaned up so her lips were centimeters from his ear.

“Wade,” she whispered.  “I think I found it.  I found the clue.  And it’s not a letter.”

To be continued….

Stay tuned, Invisible Friends!  Tomorrow we have a new creative woman, Sasha!  Then next week we have a week full of whimsical fun, including a tale about how the Blond Duck knew she made the right decision marrying Ben; a new Gift, Coconut Queen and Twirl; new recipes and more!  Stay tuned!