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 this site.  For the previous edition, go here.

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“It’s important,” the sheriff added, rubbing his forehead and glancing around.  “I need to talk to you.”

“What’s up?” Wade asked, climbing down from the cab of the truck.  He left the door open, leaning against the side of the truck.  “Everything all right?”

The sheriff’s eyes darted around the parking lot.  Leaning forward, he lowered his voice so Vivi could barely hear.  “Ya’ll are looking for Bullet Bill’s treasure, aren’t you?”

“Who told you that?”  Wade’s jaw set and a wall slid down behind his blue eyes.  Vivi bit her lip, her stomach curling with anxiety.  Why would he care?

“Everyone,” the sheriff replied dryly.  “Listen, Wade.  Ya’ll better be careful.  Margaret is on a tear.  A buddy of mine was at the diner the other day on Poppy Street and she rushed in, waving a bunch of papers around and yelling about a picture of the heart.  She demanded a bunch of food to go, saying she’d be on the road for awhile.”

Vivi’s face paled.  Leaning back in her seat, she scrunched down and chewed on her thumbnail.  Wade’s eyes flickered toward her and a shadow of worry fell over his cheerful expression.  The sheriff glanced at her, then turned back to Wade.

“I don’t care what ya’ll do,” the sheriff said, sliding his thumb back and forth over his greasy forehead as he raised and lowered his cowboy hat.  He jammed it back on his head, erasing his eyebrows.  “As far as I’m concerned, you could hunt for magic carpets.  But Margaret is crazy and dangerous.  My buddy’s pretty sure she had a gun in her car.  And that woman is barely fit to be out in public, let alone have a gun.”

Wade shook his head.  “I appreciate it, Sheriff.  I really do.  We’ll be careful.”

The sheriff gripped his hand.  “Call me if you have any problems,” he urged, clapping his hand against Wade’s arm.  “I mean it.  Anything.”

Wade nodded.  “We will,” he promised, patting the sheriff on the back.  “Thanks again.”

Vivi waited to breathe until after Wade had climbed in the truck and pulled out of the parking lot.  The second the tires rolled onto the highway, she exhaled with a flourish.  “This is bad,” she gasped, clutching Wade’s forearm.  “This is really bad.”

“What’s bad?” Wade asked, whirling around to look at her.  “Honey, don’t worry about what he said.  Nothing’s going to happen to us.  Margaret’s just nuts and he’s an old worry wart.  We’ll be just fine.  I won’t let anything happen to you.”

“But that’s not it,” Vivi argued, shaking her head.  Curly tendrils escaped from her tightly woven bun, dangling around her ears.  “Addy wrote a letter to Bill about how her heart belonged to him and him alone, and that she’d picture him always dancing around the Wildhorse Saloon.  That’s where our next clue is.  Your grandmother must have made copies of all the letters.”

Wade’s face crumbled.  “Oh crap.”

“Oh yeah.”  Vivi nodded with a grim smile, the curls bouncing around her face.  “This isn’t good.  We’ve got to get there before her.”

Wade’s boot slammed into the petal, hammering it down to the floor.  “Don’t worry,” he murmured.  “We will.”  His blue eyes narrowed and his hands gripped the steering wheel as the truck roared down the road.

***

They skidded into the parking lot of the Wildhorse Saloon with the gravel flying.  Yanking the brake, the car lurched to a stop.  Vivi slammed into the dashboard.  Peeling herself off the front of the truck, she glared at Wade.  He was pressed against the window, his face twisted in a snarl.

“She’s here,” he growled, tapping his finger toward her black car.  “Evil witch is here.”

“Well, let’s go!” Vivi exclaimed, grabbing the door handle.  “We’ll confront her once and for all.  She can’t just be stealing things.  There’s rules to this sort of thing.”

“Darling, people like Margaret make up their own rules,” Wade pointed out, grabbing her arm.  “She broke into my grandpa’s house.  I don’t think she’d think twice before snatching our clue.  We’ve got to be careful.”

Vivi’s face twisted into a scowl.  “I’m so sick of this old woman,” she hissed, flinging off her seat belt. “When I see her, I’m going to”–

“DUCK!”  Wade grabbed Vivi and shoved her to the floorboard, leaping on top of her.  Pressed against the floor mats, Vivi peeked up towards the windshield.   All she could see was the steering wheel and seats.

“She’s coming out,” Wade answered as if he was reading her thoughts.  “If she sees us, she’ll want to come and gloat.”

“Or she’ll shoot us because she’s a crazy old bat.”  Vivi stuck her tongue at the windshield.  Wade lifted his head, peeking out the window.  A car door slammed.   “She looks mad,” he reported, returning back to the floor.  He laid against Vivi’s back, his scruffy chin tickling her ear.

Pressed together, they listened as an engine started and tires crinkled over the parking lot gravel.  Wade peered out the window and climbed back into the driver’s seat.  “She’s gone,” he announced, pulling Vivi up.  “Sorry if I squished you.  I just didn’t want her to see you.”

“I didn’t mind.”  She gave him a mischievous smile and he laughed.  “Come on, darling.  Let’s see if she found that clue.”

Hand in hand, they pushed through the wooden doors of the saloon.  The dancehall was empty, save for a wailing jukebox and bartender.  A handful of elderly couples shuffled across the floor, pressed against one another under the flickering neon lights.  A drunken cowboy lay sprawled against a table with a beer in his hand and an older lady swayed in the corner, a cigarette dangling from hot pink lips.

It was the most depressing sight Vivi had ever seen.

“Listen, we’re closing,” the bartender shouted, his lips twisted in a pout.  “Either order something to go or get out.”

“Ya’ll are shutting down early, aren’t you?” Wade commented, walking closer to the bartender.  “Barely even nine.”  Vivi hung back, eyeing the arm draped in tattoos and pierced nose.   With his thick bald head and bulldog face, she had no intention of getting any closer to the surly bartender.

The bartender narrowed his eyes.  “Stupid band didn’t show up.  Screwed up my whole night.  I only made $20 in tips.”

“Well, that’s a shame,” Wade drawled.  “Historic place like this ought to be drawing a real crowd, don’t you think?”

The man grunted.  “Of course,” he replied, throwing a white towel on the bar.  “But all those darned yuppies up there have”–

Vivi rolled her eyes.  Her foot tapped against the floor, growing louder as the man rambled on.  Oblivious, the man talked for so long Vivi’s leg cramped, her fingers tapping against her sides as her impatience grew.  Finally, she burst into a exasperated sigh.  Wade shook his head slightly, but she stepped forward and waved her hands to get the man’s attention.

“Listen, we’re looking for something historical,” Vivi interrupted, moving in front of Wade.  She ignored his gentle poke in the back.  “Can you help us?”

“Why should I?”  The bartender leered at her.  “What’s in it for me?”

Vivi yanked a $50 bill out of her leotard and waved it at him.  “A better tip than $20.”

“Where’d you get that?” Wade hissed, his eyes wide.  “And why are you carrying that kind of money in your bra?”

“It’s my dad’s,” Vivi muttered under her breath.   “I’m trying to make a deal here, ok?”  Flashing a smile, Vivi took another step toward the terrifying bartender.  “An old lady was in here–really ugly, black clothes, yellow teeth.”

“Don’t remind me,” the bartender said, shuddering.  “She was meaner than a one eyed snake.  She kept looking under chairs, trying to take my walls apart, the bathrooms–she even tried to go in my office!  Crazy old thing.  I threw her out.”  His eyes narrowed.  “Why?  She a friend of yours?”

“Quite the contrary,” Vivi replied.  “Did she leave with anything?”

The bartender snorted.  “Just her ugly self.  Mean, ugly self.  She was mad too.  Real mad.  Slammed the door and knocked over that chair.”  He pointed towards the entrance.

Vivi stared at the bar counter, her brow furrowed.  “How old is this bar?”

“The original one since the dancehall opened in the 1800s,” the bartender replied, slapping the wooden counter.  “Beautiful, isn’t she?  It’s got bullet holes and everything.  It’s even got a couple of secret compartments, some say.  Legend has it Bullet Bill used this as a hideout for his men, when some of the offices were a”– he cleared his throat, “working ladies’ rooms.”

“Hookers, I got it,” Vivi commented.  Both Wade and the bartender flushed.

“It’s a real shame,” the bartender murmured, lovingly stroking the counter with the white towel.  “All this history and people go to those yuppie bars with drinks that look like crayons and the personality of a rock.  I tell you, there ain’t going to be any history left if folks…”

“Do you mind if I take a look at it?” Vivi interrupted, her fingers fluttering the $50 bill.  She smiled,  letting her dimples show.

“Go ahead,” the bartender said, holding out his hand.  She slapped the bill down on his palm.  Ignoring Wade’s murmurs of protest, she walked slowly around the bar, running her fingers over the wood as she inspected it.  Wade and the bartender commiserated over the development of some local farmland, their words buzzing around her like a room full of mosquitoes trying to get her attention.  Getting down on her knees, she leaned close to the floor.  She fingered the wooden molding around the base.  Tapping her nails against the wooden front, she pressed one ear to the bar.

“Vivi, baby, what are you doing?” Wade asked, crouching down and leaning over.  He glanced down at the bar front, but saw only nicked wood from thousands of boots and spurs.  Vivi continued to creep across the bar, tapping her fingers with every shuffle.  Her eyes lifted up and widened.  Reaching up, she stuck her finger in a small hole underneath the lip of the bar.

“What is that?” Wade asked, peering up under her shoulder.  “Is that a bullet hole?”

“I’ve never seen one under there,” the bartender commented, flopping over the bar.  With his feet dangling in the air, he watched as Vivi probed the hole with her index finger.  He sucked in his breath.  “I’ll be!  It’s really a bullet hole under there!”

Vivi twisted her face in a grimace and yanked her finger in the hole.  There was a hollow click.  As if on cue, a small drawer from the bottom of the bar popped out.  Inside, a tarnished golden locket glittered up at them.

Vivi beamed.  “Margaret doesn’t have anything on me.”

To be continued….

Stay tuned, Invisible Friends!  Tomorrow we have Marjie from Modern Day Ozzie and Harriet as our creative woman of the Pond, and then a Father’s Day tribute!  Stay tuned!!!