The Halloween Mystery: Mystery Template

Section 1: Suspects

1. Ava
2. Rusty and Randy
3. Christian
4. Ricky, teenage girlfriend and daughter

Section 2: The Silence of the Silver Mask

"My coffee and sugar have disappeared again! I just bought those yesterday; this cannot be happening!" I said to myself. Checking further, I realized that other groceries and cleaning items were missing too. "So are all my new tea towels."

As I took a mental inventory, the doorbell rang.

"Halloween treats please!"

"You sure are a sweetie!" I said to the tiny girl wearing a pink, bunny costume with long ears, who was waiting outside my front door. I was furious, but not with her. She was just a child!

Suddenly, I felt very cold! I cringed, as I felt the hair on the back of my neck stand on end.

To her left, stood a tall, thin, young man wearing a black hoodie, brand new blue jeans, shiny black boots and an expressionless, cold-looking silver mask. I had no idea who he was at that moment. To her right, there stood another young man. I was relieved, as I recognized him immediately.

Ricky, my neighbor, smiled apologetically and said, "My mom does not like my girlfriend." He beckoned towards the young teenager standing on the sidewalk, partly hidden in the darkness. I could not see her face. Obviously, she was waiting for them.

I realized that she was the child's mother and decided that it was more than likely Christian, Ricky's brother, who remained silent behind that eerie silver mask. The two brothers seemed like total opposites. Christian, the younger of the two, always had a job of some kind; Ricky had never worked anywhere to my knowledge. Christian also had a car; Ricky never could afford to buy one. Christian was very quiet and shy, a non-smoker and non-drinker, even though he was into hard rock music. He seemed to be forever fixing his car. Ricky was a drinker and a smoker, and he knew that I did not approve.

"You might as well all have some treats," I said, smiling, as I nodded my head at Ricky.

Ricky knew that I understood.

I was aware that his mother had refused to accept the young child as her granddaughter, even though he had taken over the role of father, after her real father disappeared. "She's not my grandchild," Ricky's mother had explained to me and then simply walked away.

I had also found a note in my mailbox when I first moved in. It asked the question, "Should a fifteen year old girl have to raise a child alone?" No one ever offered an explanation of that letter to me. Suddenly, a light began to dawn.

"These are really quite good." I said, smiling at the little girl. She was quite cute in her Halloween costume. "You are a beautiful bunny," I said, as I put a couple of chocolate bars into her pillowcase, tossed a few to Christian, some to Ricky and then gave him a few extras for his girlfriend.

"Thank you, ever so much!" Ricky said. The others all remained silent, as they disappeared down the street. 

"See you, Mom," he called to me. Again, I understood.

"Who on earth is that?" I wondered the next morning, as I awakened to a loud ruckus, on the other side of my condominium. I could hear drawers being opened and closed, cupboard doors banging and what sounded like children running up and down the stairs. Suddenly, the outside door slammed shut.

I quickly ran outside and saw a set of thirteen-year old twins, named Randy and Rusty, running down the street. They were both carrying backpacks. I shook my head, as this was not the first time that I had heard them, or seen them in our area. In fact, at one time, I was almost certain that they were the ones who were stealing food from my cupboards, as well as from some of the other nearby homes.

As I went back into my condominium, I looked toward the back door and saw my elderly neighbor, Ava, heading across my back yard. I opened the door and hollered at her, but she did not hear me.

On my deck, I found a tomato plant that she had left for me. Ava always seemed to be a good friend, but it was almost as if she was too friendly sometimes. She was a very religious person and very generous with the produce from her garden and other gifts. I had started to wonder about her when I found a cross, carved into one wall in my home. Every time I looked at it, it appeared to be getting deeper and deeper.

Ava loved plants and was forever cutting them back, including my plants too, when she thought that I was not looking. Sure enough, one of my other plants had been cut, too. I always graciously gave her the benefit of the doubt and attributed it to the squirrels.

I decided to head out to the store, thinking maybe I should invite her over later. I knew that I had no choice but to buy some more coffee and sugar first, as she never drank her coffee without a lot of sugar in it.

When I returned, there seemed to be the vague smell of cigar smoke in the condominium.

"That is weird! Maybe I imagined that?" I asked myself and began tidying up the living room.

"I left a tomato plant for you," Ava said, as we chatted later on. "Did you find it?"

"Yes, I did, thank you." I did not tell her that I had found another plant that had been cut. I just gave her a hug. I knew that she was lonely and needed attention.

I had wondered if she was the one who was helping herself to food and other household items, as things seemed to disappear every time I went out. I knew that she did not really need to steal anything though, as she was relatively well off.

Later on, I watched another, elderly neighbor walk by carrying a grocery bag.

"That must be his doggie bag," I decided. Harley was a sweetheart and one could not help but love him, too. He had a couple of dogs that he walked all the time. Somehow, their leashes were always tangled and he would get very. He complained a lot about kids ringing his front door bell and then running away even though he knew that there was no way that I could stop them from doing that. As he walked down the street untangling his dogs’ leashes again, I continued my housecleaning.

"Finger prints?"

I was stunned to find a small child's fingerprints on my full-length mirror in the front hallway.

"I don't think I have had any children visiting here," I said to myself, as I wiped the mirror. "That child cannot be any more than three or four years old." I didn't think much more about it at the time, but later on I suddenly realized what was happening. "Halloween! Now I understand the silence of the silver mask." I said.

Section 3:

Clues:
1. The note asking "Why should a teenager have to raise a child alone?"
2. An ongoing pattern of missing food and other items.
3. The cigar smell in the condominium.
4. The child's fingerprints on my full length mirror.

The Thanksgiving Mystery: Mystery Template

Section 1: Suspects

1. Betty

2. Peter
3. Hazel
4. Beverly

Section 2: Who's The Turkey?

"Hey, what's going on here?" Aunt Ivory hollered from the bedroom. She was starting to get ready for Thanksgiving dinner, just as a loud crash resounded throughout the whole house. She ran to the dining room, took one look and turned pale. "My God! Who on earth would have done this?"

Crystal, her niece, poked her head through the doorway and held back her tears. "Oh, no! I cannot believe this!"

Gramps, who was getting old and arthritic, limped into the dining room and asked, "What's all the noise?"

Spot, their lab retriever, headed out the open door, chasing after who ever it was that had just taken off. 

Aunt Ivory and Crystal could see someone racing down the street on a bicycle. It appeared to be teenager wearing a baseball cap, blue jeans, white runners and a t-shirt.

"Aunt Ivory, I will find out who did this!" Crystal said, running out the door and down the street. "Hey you," she hollered. "Come back here!"

It was too late as the culprit had already disappeared. As the bike turned the corner, Crystal glimpsed a flicker of light. "That was a reflection from the mirror on the bike's handlebars."

"I hope that was not, Peter," she thought to herself.

Peter was a disabled, but smart young man, who had just started to attend Crystal's school. "It couldn't possibly be him."

She spotted him sitting in the window of his home across the street and waved at him. He did not wave back and quickly disappeared.

Hazel, another neighbor, saw her, as she quickly walked back home.

"Hey!" Crystal hollered. She did not want to upset Hazel and decided not to say anything to her.

"Happy Thanksgiving!" Crystal heard Betty, a young mother, call out to her, as she walked across the street towards Hazel.

"Thanks!" Crystal called back. "If you only knew," she said silently.

"Who could have done this on Thanksgiving Day?" Crystal wondered, as she headed back into the house. "I will find the turkey. This makes me so angry!" She had just set the table for dinner. Everything had been perfect.

Now the dining room was in complete chaos. Whoever it was that had done this, had pulled the tablecloth off the table. Broken dishes, glassware and silverware were strewn all over the floor. A beautiful Thanksgiving centerpiece stood upright on the floor, right in the middle of all the mess.

"Who did this?" Gramps asked, staring at the disaster in amazement. "What is that in your mouth, Spot? Hey, give me that! Don't eat it!" The dog had just picked up something from under the dining room table.

"That's a scrunchie, Gramps. All the girls wear them to tie back their pony tails," said Crystal. "But I don't have any polka dot ones," she said to herself. "May I have that Gramps, please?" She quickly stuffed it into her pocket. She knew that none of best friends ever wore polka dots. That was too girlish! She bent down to pick up the centerpiece. The flowers were still perfect, as if nothing had happened. "At least it did not break."

Together, Aunt Ivory, Gramps and Crystal began cleaning up the mess and re-setting the table.

"We are still having our Thanksgiving dinner," Crystal told them. She loved both of them so much. This was supposed to have been such a special day. She was determined that it should still be a happy Thanksgiving.

"Smart thief," Crystal said to herself, later. 

On the floor by the back door of the kitchen, she found the pumpkin pie that Aunt Ivory had just made. It appeared that Spot had licked off all the whipping cream. "That is why Spot did not bark," she said to herself.

"The thief stole a drumstick and the wishbone?" Aunt Ivory said. She was stunned as she looked at the mutilated Thanksgiving turkey, on the kitchen counter. "Nothing else?"

"My silver mustache cup is missing, too!" hollered Grandpa, from the dining room. "That thief is not going to sell that in this town! It has my great-grandfather's initials carved into the bottom of it!"

"Aunt Ivory, that was a wonderful turkey dinner, in spite of everything," said Crystal, as they were finishing their Thanksgiving dinner.

Gramps nodded in agreement. "Now young lady, you need to get ready for school tomorrow."

"We are having an antique show at two o'clock. Gramps and Aunt Ivory, would you be able to come?" Crystal asked. She was going to show the bracelet that Gramps had given Grandma, for their 50th anniversary. It was supposed to be a surprise for him. Crystal decided not to say anything, but she realized that whoever this thief was might be setting up a display too, maybe even showing her Gramp's mustache cup?

The next morning, as she walked across the school parking lot, she saw two bicycles with mirrors on them. One was an older, dark green mountain bike; the other was a brand new, girl's ten-speed.

In her classroom, on the display tables, there were all kinds of antiques. Crystal did not say anything about the missing mustache cup, but checked every display from a distance. "I wonder if I should leave my 

Grandma's bracelet on my table," Crystal thought to herself. "Maybe I should stay close by and keep an eye on it?"

"Beverly, I love your polka dots." said Crystal, a moment later, as one of her school mates appeared at her side and began to examine the bracelet. "That was my Grandma's."

Beverly was a thin girl, who did not seem to have any friends. She was wearing her hair tied in a ponytail. Normally, she wore pigtails.

"That scrunchie looks just like the one Spot found under the table," Crystal thought to herself, as she looked at Beverly's hair. She pulled it out of her pocket and held it tightly in her hand.

"Oh, look at that old silver mustache cup!"

One of the parents had spotted it right away and went over to it.

"This display is wonderful!"

Gramps jumped up from where he was sitting and limped over there, too. He waited for a moment, while they examined at it. Then, Crystal watched him pick it up and look at the bottom. She saw him nod to Aunt Ivory, who was sitting by the window and then to her. "That's it," he seemed to say silently.

"Guess what, I got a brand new bike for Thanksgiving," said Beverly.

"That is great!" replied Crystal. "How was your day otherwise?"

"It was quiet, as my mom is sick; I got the wishbone from the turkey," replied Beverly. "I am going to wish that my mom gets better."

"I am so sorry your mom is ill. Where is your antique, Beverly?" asked Crystal, looking around the room.

"Over there by your Gramps. I sure wish I had a grandpa." Beverly replied, wistfully.

"Now I know who the turkey is," thought Crystal smiling. "I will take a look at it later, Beverly. Let's go look at your new bike. Hey, did you lose this?" Crystal handed her the polka dot scrunchie that she was holding.

"You found it!" Beverly replied. "Oh, thank you so much!" 

Section 3: The Clues

1. Spot found a polka dot scrunchie under the dining room table.
2. Crystal saw a light flicker in the mirror, as the biker turned the corner.
3. A new girl's bike with a mirror is in the school parking lot. 
4. Beverly has a turkey wishbone and a matching polka dot scrunchie.

The Labor Day Mystery: Mystery Template

Section 1: Suspects

1. The new egg delivery man
2. A transient 
3. The dog catcher
4. Benny

Section 2: The Case of the Black Bouvier

A door slammed, a truck backfired and tires squealed in the distance. 

Jenny’s dog did not bark so she knew something was amiss.

"Woofer!" she hollered, racing towards his kennel. The door was open. "Oh no, my dog is gone!"

She saw Terry's, Uncle Joe on his garage roof next door, shaking his fist at his housekeeper.

"Woman, I've been shingling roofs for sixty years. I know how to be careful. Go make cookies and get out of my hair!" he yelled. "That woman never stops talking. It is so nice to be on the roof where it is quiet," he thought to himself.

"Uncle Joe, Mrs. Chattery, have you seen Woofer?" Jenny asked them, a moment later.

"No dear," replied Mrs. Chattery. "Your mom just left for work. I am making peanut butter cookies."

Jenny shook her head.

"I have to find Woofer."

"Good riddance, if you ask me," said Uncle Joe. "That dog drives me nuts with his infernal barking!"

"Uncle Joe!" scolded Mrs. Chattery. "This child is upset. See if you can spot him from up there. Maybe I should look?" She started to climb the ladder. "Maybe that new egg delivery man picked him up?" she wondered.

"Stay down there!" he ordered. "You might fall! Then, who is going to make cookies? You'll find him, sweetie."

Just then, Domingo, their Mexican newspaper carrier, walked up to them. "Hey, where's Terry? No paper today, Uncle Joe, it’s Labor Day and a holiday!"

"Nobody's supposed to work on Labor Day!" replied Uncle Joe. "Not even me." He was cranky. "I don't see him," he said.

"Si," said Domingo.

"I have to get up on the roof to get away from that woman, even on a holiday," he thought to himself. "Thank God I don't have two broken legs and I can still climb that ladder." He began putting shingles in place and nailed them down.

Jenny was about to burst into tears. "I can't find Woofer!"

"Oh no!" said Domingo, touching her hand gently. "I'm not going to miss that black bouvier," he decided, silently. "He's chases me when I deliver my papers, but I hate to see girls cry."

"Woofer's gone?" Terry asked, as he came around the corner just then. "Come on, guys, let's find him!"

"I'm making cookies," said Mrs. Chattery, heading into the house. "That man will be the death of me yet! That dog is such a messy critter. I will be happy if they don't find him," she thought to herself.

"I heard a door slam and truck backfire!" Terry said. "It squealed its tires. It may have been Benny's Meat Market truck!"

"Benny, Si," said Domingo, knowingly. He always spoke Spanish, when he was upset. "I know that 

Benny does not like Woofer! He caught him stealing ribs from the front stall. He said that he would kill that dog if he catches him again!"

"Oh no!" said Jenny. "Maybe he ran over Woofer with his truck?"

Running down the street, the three children looked for tire tracks, hoping that they were not going to find Jenny's bouvier lying on the street, or in a ditch. They found some tire tracks but no sign of Woofer.

Benny told them that he had not seen him. "That dog is always getting into trouble," he commented.

"Why are you working on Labor Day, Benny?" Terry asked.

"People have to eat, even on a holiday," replied Benny, returning to his meat grinder.

"Let's check his truck," said Terry, "Just in case."

"Si," said Domingo. "Jenny, stay here and keep him busy for a moment."

"There is no damage on the truck, but we couldn't get into the back. If Woofer was in there, he would have barked," Terry told her, a couple of minutes later.

"Benny said that I could come by tomorrow for some bones. Look, I found a piece of frayed rope. It has been chewed and it is still wet," Jenny started to cry. "Somebody kidnapped him."

"Maybe Woofer got away!" said Domingo, putting his arm around her shoulder. "I know what to do. Let's report this to the dog pound. They always work on Labor Day."

"Maybe it was their truck?" Domingo thought to himself. "Please stop crying! It makes me want to cry too."

"Let's tell the nurse in the hospital Emergency," suggested Terry. "The ambulance attendants are working today; the policemen and the firemen will watch for him, too. We'll report him missing everywhere and I'll leave my e-mail address, just in case. Lots of people work on Labor Day, especially those who offer essential services."

Two young children told them that they had seen an old transient down by the railway tracks. "He had a dog," one of them said.

By late afternoon, it was plain that no one else had seen the huge bouvier. There was no sign of the transient either, as he must have hopped on a train. Jenny was beginning to wonder if she would ever find Woofer.

"Let's go e-mail some of our friends too," suggested Terry.

"Uncle Joe, we can't find him," Jenny called out, when she saw him in the front yard with Mrs. Chattery, drinking tea and eating cookies.

"Come children. Have some juice and peanut butter cookies," Mrs. Chattery said.

"After we send out some e-mails," replied Terry. "No, I'll do that. You two go and have a snack. We'll rest and we’ll start looking again later."

"Who would want a dog that big?" asked Uncle Joe. "He would eat them out of house and home."

"He slobbers too," said Domingo.

Everybody laughed, as it was true. Woofer loved people and would come right up and lick their faces. 

"Somebody has him and we are going to find him."

"I got an e-mail from the pound!" hollered Terry from his bedroom window. "They just found him with a piece of rope around his neck."

"Thank you God," Jenny said. "Uncle Joe, can you take us to get him, please?" Mrs. Chattery wiped a tear from her eye. Domingo almost started to cry, too.

Uncle Joe, being softhearted by nature, could not say no to Jenny.

Later, as they put Woofer on the back of his pickup truck, the attendant handed him a frayed rope about four feet in length.

"I am pretty certain I know who stole your bouvier," Uncle Joe told Jenny, later. "I saw someone buy a rope, when I picked up my shingles. This looks like the same rope. He ought to have his hide tanned for trying to steal your dog."

"Was it like this, Uncle Joe?" asked Terry, handing him the other piece of rope that Jenny had found earlier. It matched perfectly.

"You are a very lucky young lady," said Uncle Joe. "And you have a smart dog."

"I know," replied Jenny as Woofer licked her face. "He got away! Let's celebrate Labor Day!"

Section 3: The Clues

1. A truck door slammed, tires squealed and there were tire tracks.
2. The children found a piece of frayed rope.
3. A transient, with a dog, was seen by some younger children.
4. Uncle Joe saw someone buy a rope when he bought his shingles.

The Fourth of July Mystery: Mystery Template

Section 1: The Suspects

1. Grundy
2. Marissa and Larissa
3. Three teenagers
4. Someone else who was in the store

Section 2: The Case of the Missing Sparklers

"Gottlieb, get out my bag!" Grundy yelled at the goat that was following her around, shooing him away. "Happy birthday to me! I was born to be free," she started to sing. Her birthday was on the fourth of July. "Happy birthday, happy birthday, happy birthday to me."

"Hey Grundy!" hollered Marissa and Larissa, from across the street. They were thirteen-year old identical twins.

Larissa said, "I hope that you have a Happy Birthday tomorrow. We are going to buy some firecrackers for the Fourth of July celebration."

"Firecrackers! Firecrackers!" echoed Peachy, a red and blue parrot, sitting on his perch in front of Mr. Bugsworthy's general store. "Firecrackers!"

"Be quiet," yelled Benjamin, his one-legged owner, sitting on the bench by the door.

"Now, now!" said Mr Bugsworthy, who had heard all of the ruckus. "Hey Grundy, you buying anything today? I didn't think so. Get out of here with that goat!"

Gazing at the twins sternly, he said, "You two should know that you cannot purchase any fireworks without an adult."

"Aw, give the kids a break," said Benjamin. "At least one sparkler for each of them." He was a rough man, but he loved children.

"One, anyhow," echoed Grundy.

She was known to everyone in the town as the local bag lady. No one knew where she came from, but she was always wandering the streets looking for treasures. Often she found a few things that were real treasures to her and put them in her shopping cart. Gottlieb, a neighborhood goat, followed her around because he knew that she would feed him every day, from the bag she usually carried over her shoulder.

"How much are the sparklers?" asked the Marissa.

"Yes, how much, please, Mr. Bugsworthy?" repeated Larissa, very politely. "We do have some money."

"Too much for you to afford!" said Mr. Bugsworthy. He knew that the girls did not have a father and that their mother did not make a lot of money working as a waitress in the local restaurant. He figured that most of the time, she survived on tips, but with two mouths to feed, she was probably having a hard time making ends meet.

"Will I do? I am an adult," said Benjamin. "Let them each have one and I will pay the difference."

"All right," agreed Mr. Bugsworthy cautiously, after he pondered for a moment. "That solves the problem," he thought silently, but when he went to get the sparklers for them, he was stunned to find that there was only one sparkler left in the box.

"My sparklers are gone!" he said to Benjamin, with his mouth hanging open. "I only have one left. I just bought a whole box, day before yesterday. Who on earth stole my firecrackers?"

"Firecrackers!" said Peachy again. That was the one word he always seemed to remember. Most of what Benjamin had taught him, he did not remember.

By that time, Grundy was disappearing out of sight and Gottlieb was right behind her.

"Don't look at me," said Benjamin. "I warned you about those kids."

"We didn't take them," said the twins, at the same moment.

"I don't mean you two," replied Benjamin. He had always liked these girls, but he had a hard time telling them apart and called them Cutsie and Tootsie, when he could not remember their real names. They both had freckles and wore ponytails.

"Now what do I do?" replied Mr. Bugsworthy. "Here it is almost the Fourth of July, and I have no sparklers. I cannot get any more by tomorrow!"

Marissa pulled Larissa's arm and said, "Come here for a minute." They stepped away from the doorway where the men were now standing. "I think I know who those boys might be."

"Who?" asked Larissa. "I mean, you do?"

"I saw three teenage boys down by the beach, the other day, setting up some kind of a club house. They were just putting up a sign that said, "No girls allowed and no trespassers."

"Maybe we had better tell Mr. Bugsworthy? Or Benjamin?" said Larissa, quietly. "Do you think we should?"

"Let's wait," replied Marissa. "No, on second thought, let's tell them now. If they are the ones who stole the sparklers, maybe they can get them back."

"All right, let's go tell them."

"Mr. Bugsworthy, Benjamin," started Marissa. She was always the serious one who took the lead in everything. "We have something important to tell you."

"I sure hope that you are not going to tell me you two girls stole the sparklers, but then, that is not what you are going to say, is it? You came to buy firecrackers, with money," said Mr. Bugsworthy.

"Firecrackers," said Peachy. "Firecrackers."

"Sh, you silly old bird," said Benjamin. "Don't you know any other words?"

"We think that we might know where the sparklers are," said Larissa very quietly, as she did not want to upset Mr. Bugsworthy any further.

“We are not sure though."

"Maybe it was Grundy," said Benjamin. "She is always picking up stuff all over the place."

"No, let the girls talk."

After the twins explained where they thought the sparklers might be hidden, Mr. Bugsworthy and Benjamin looked at them in astonishment.

"Girls, you just might be right," Mr. Bugsworthy said. "If you are, you are both in for a nice reward. I will see to that!"

"If it is Grundy," said Benjamin, "Gottlieb will try to eat them."

"Who else could it be?" Marissa asked Larissa. "I know who didn't do it. We can be certain of that."

"Peachy," said Larissa, laughing aloud. "He can say firecrackers, but he cannot steal sparklers."

"It could be anyone else who was in my store, too," said Mr. Bugsworthy "But my guess is that if we
investigate that clubhouse, we just might have the culprits. Let's go talk to the sergeant. He will know how to handle this."

"Thieves always boast after they steal something," said Benjamin. "Girls, take a walk around and see if there is anyone boasting out there. Let me know if you hear any talk about sparklers."

"Maybe Mr. Bugsworthy put them somewhere else and forgot?" suggested Marissa, later.

"I don't think so," said Larissa. "He's forgetful all right, but not that forgetful. Hey, this looks like the wrapping paper from a sparkler! Maybe it was Grundy and Gottlieb chewed it the paper off?"

"Could be. Maybe we will never know?"

Just then they heard a sizzling sound coming from the beach and in the distance, someone was singing
"Happy Birthday."

"Oh, oh," said Marissa excitedly. "We've got the thief now!" She started running towards the beach. "We are going to get that reward!"

"Let's go catch whoever this is!" said Larissa, chasing after her sister. "Happy Fourth of July!"

Section 3: The Clues

1. Three teenage boys building a clubhouse
2. The twins found a piece of wrapping from a sparkler
3. Sizzling sound heard by the girls
4. Singing

The Veteran's Day Mystery: Mystery Template

Section 1: The Suspects

1. Dennis
2. An old man
3. An angry war veteran
4. Older children

Section 2: The Case of the Floating Wreath

"I think I'm in love," said a little, blonde ten-year old girl named Jaci, to her older brothers, Griswold and Grisham. "Dennis is so wonderful!"

"You don't mean that Dennis, I hope," asked Griswold, pointing to the young boy standing on the beach.

"Not him, please, Jaci," said Grisham. "Sometimes I don't know whether he's really dumb, or terribly smart. I know that he's always in trouble. Come on, Jaci, grab George's leash! We're going home. You'd better forget about that kid. He's no good!"

"He is good!" argued Jaci, defending her friend. "I know him better than you do!" He was upset and had been crying when she found him.

"Hey, look over there! What is that white thing floating in the water? See if you can grab it, Grisham," said Griswold. "What on earth?"

"It's the wreath from the Veteran's Day service held at the cenotaph today," said Grisham. They waded in, and together, pulled it towards the beach. "This is so wet! It is totally waterlogged! It's so heavy now, that we can barely lift it. How on earth did it get down here?"

"Maybe it was put in there by some angry, war veteran? Perhaps it was that old man at the service, the one who lost his son?" suggested Griswold looking at Jaci. He did not want to argue with her about Dennis, as he knew that he was wasting his time. She obviously adored him.

"I don't know," said Jaci, who was about to run and tell Dennis, but when she turned around he was already gone.

"We had better report it," said Griswold. "Let's leave it on the beach! It's so full of water that it is way too heavy to carry."

"Barney, people on drugs can lose their kids; so can people in a tragedy like hurricane Katrina, or folks who are involved in the war." 

The boys could hear the local police officer, Riley, arguing with Barney, their postmaster.  Riley and Barney stared at Griswold, Grisham, Jaci and George, as they approached the police station entrance. "Hey, how did you kids get so wet? What kind of mischief have you been up to?"

Griswold answered, "We came to tell you that we found a big, white wreath from the cenotaph down at the beach in the water. We waded in and pulled it out. It was too heavy to carry, so we left it there."

"You mean that brand new wreath that we just placed at the foot of the cenotaph this morning? Who on earth would be so disrespectful of the war dead?" asked Riley. He was stunned and angry.

"We paid a lot of good dollars to put that wreath there," said Barney. "I personally went to a lot of trouble to collect the money for it. But that was the least that we could do for our guys and gals overseas."

"We think it might be Dennis," said Griswold, cautiously. He did not want to upset Jaci.

"Why do you say that?" asked Riley, looking at them suspiciously.

"He was down by the water when we got there," replied Griswold.

"Well, you know, I heard him hollering at the service, earlier today. He seemed upset and rightly so. First, he went through hurricane Katrina with his mom, and then he lost his dad in Iraq, at just about the same time. I would be upset too." Riley was a very compassionate man at heart.

"Life hands out some rough stuff at times," suggested Barney, a bit more gently.

"I hate speeches, I hate air planes and I hate Veteran's Day!" Griswold said. "That is what I heard."

"I heard Dennis yell that at his mother too," said Riley. "Maybe we had better have a talk with her. This kind of behavior cannot continue."

"It is really tragic how he experienced both the Persian Gulf tragedy and a Gulf of Mexico tragedy, so close together," Barney agreed. "Disasters in the east and the west at almost the same time, that was so hard to believe and now this!"

"Can anyone control uncontrollable kids?" Riley asked quietly, looking at Jaci. He knew that she loved Dennis and that she was his best friend.

"Maybe it was not Dennis?" Jaci said in his defense, turning her attention to the dog. "Right, George?"

The dog barked, as if in agreement.

"Aw, come on home, Jaci," said Griswold. "Riley can handle it. We did our civic duty and reported it."

"Thanks kids," said Riley. "We will look into this."

"Dennis may not be a bad kid," Griswold said. "He might be just acting out."

"But, he was also caught shooting pellets at someone's house last week!" argued Grisham, as they walked along with Jaci and George. "Remember what he screamed at Riley?"

"I am going to kill those guys who killed my dad!" they said simultaneously.

When confronted by his mother later, Dennis hollered at her. "I just want my dad! I could not get it! It was too far out! I don't care if it floats all the way to the Gulf!"

"I don't think he did it," his mother told Riley, on the phone later. "I know my son. It has to be someone else."

The next morning, as Griswold, Grisham, Jaci and George explored the beach for clues, George suddenly barked. Jaci ran over to where he was had found a partly hidden piece of driftwood, while he was digging in the sand. 

"A wallet!" she hollered. Jaci grabbed it quickly, before George could run off with the evidence.

"Let us see that wallet, Jaci," said Grisham, taking it from her hands. Inside the wallet, he found a picture of a soldier, but there was nothing else. It held no identification of any kind. "That is not his father," said Griswold. "I bet if we find out who this soldier is, we will know who the culprit is also."

"Hey, here is a green wheelbarrow too. It looks like the one from behind the market," yelled Griswold. "I think I know who did this. He should have taken his wheelbarrow back home."

"There is no way Dennis would have been able to push that. He is too small. He is also too young to have lost his dad," commented Grisham sadly. "You know Jaci, I bet that kid is actually innocent!"

"I knew it! And I think I'm in love with him!" said Jaci, joyfully. George barked again, as Jaci hugged him.

"Who set him up?" asked Grisham. "It was possibly bigger kids; maybe their father is the soldier in that picture?"

"Maybe, we are about to find out," said Griswold. "Let's get this wallet and the wheelbarrow to Riley."

"George, I love you too." said Jaci, giving him another hug. "Thank you for finding that wallet. Now let's go and find Dennis."

Section 3: The Clues

1. Dennis was in the area where the wreath was floating in the water.
2. Jaci and George, her dog, found a wallet that contained a picture of a soldier.
3. A large, green wheelbarrow was located on the beach.
4. There was an old man at the service, who had lost his son.
5. The wheelbarrow was too large for Dennis to push.

An Entire Story Using Only One Syllable Words: Word

From the next room, Beth heard James, her six year old son, sing at the top of his lungs, “At the first was the Word; the Word was with God and the Word was God.” Then, she heard him sing some more words to the same tune. Beth knew that he must have made them up. "At the last will be the Word; the Word will be with God, and the Word will be God." 

Next, she heard him pray. 

"Dear God, I hate school and I hate words! Jay says that I am bad. I write my words wrong. The kids at school all laugh at me when I try to write. Please help me to learn how to write my words right so that Jay does not get so mad at me, all of the time."

Beth went in the room and handed James a piece of white chalk and a chalk board.

"Hi there, son," she said, as she kissed him on his cheek, and hugged him tight. 

"Let him write just one word right, please God?" she said. "James, can you write the word god for me?"

"I cannot write the word god right yet," said James. "I know that I write god wrong all of the time."

"Sure you can," said Beth. She saw his sad face and put her hand on his hand. "Write dog then."

"I can not write dog right," said James. "If I can not write words right, then I am bad, right? Jay says that I am bad."

"Wrong! You are not bad! Just write one word for me, right now," his mom said. She saw tears well up in his eyes. "Write the word dog."

"Bad dog?" said James. "All right, I will write dog. I cannot write the word bad right yet. I know that I write that word wrong, too."

"Try hard for me and I will help you." Beth gave him a smile. "Just write dog, not bad." She saw her son write the word god for dog. She saw what he had just done. "Some day you will write and you will write well," she told James. "You will, I know."

"I cannot write right, but I can draw," James said. He saw the word that he had just put on the chalk board. He was not sure if he it was right or not.

Beth had an idea. Now she knew how to help her son learn to spell and write words the right way. "Draw a dog." She saw him draw a stick dog. "Good! That is a dog."

"Now write god," she said. She saw him write the word dog, by the stick dog.

"I can not draw god," said James. "I can write the word god, but did I write it right?"

"No," his mom said. "You wrote the word dog for god."

"I can not do it right," said James, with tears in his eyes. "I get those words wrong."

"Try to draw God," said Beth. She did not want to see her son give up. She saw James put a big heart on the chalk board. "Good, now write god." Once more, James wrote the word dog for god.

"I can not write, but I can draw. Is it right now?" His mom she shook her head. "I give up," he said.

"You wrote the word god for dog and the word dog for god," Beth said. "They are both wrong, but hey, do not give up yet."

"I am so bad. For god, I write dog and for dog, I write god?" James thought. "That is not right, is it?" He saw his mom frown. "Please do not yell at me like Jay does, all the time."

"I will not yell at you, James. Just trust me, please. I am your mom," she said. "God loves you and I love you, too.You are not bad. You just need to learn how to spell and write."

"I know. My dog does too," said James. "Hey, I like pop. May I please have a can of pop, mom?"

"Yes, but can you draw a can of pop for me, first?" Beth said. She did not know if he could draw that or not.

"I like that word," said James. "I know that I can write the word pop right."

Beth saw him write the word pop on the chalk board, by the can of pop that he had just drawn. "Good boy!"

"I did it! I can write right! That is a can of pop. This is a straw." He saw the smile on her face. "The word pop is right when I write it, Right?"

"Yes, it is right. Now draw a man," Beth said. She knew that he could draw a stick man. "Good, now write dad."

She saw her son draw a stick man and write the word dad, the right way.

"I can draw you too, mom, but with a skirt." By the smile on her face, he could tell that what he had just done was just fine.

"Sure, why not? Write mom too."

James did just that and wrote the word mom. The word mom was right too.

"Mom, why is pop p-o-p, dad is d-a-d, mom is m-o-m and dog is d-o-g and god is g-o-d? That can not be right."

"But it is right. Words are not the same when you write."

"So if I draw a dog, I put d-o-g, right? That is right, right? I guess I just have to learn that one. And god is g-o-d."

"Right, some words, you just have to learn to write right."

"I can not draw God. Can you draw God for me, mom?"

Beth did not speak.

"I can draw a heart. That means love. God loves me," James said. "I know that." 

"Write this word," said Beth, as she wrote the word love, right next to the heart. "Love."

"That is a new word for me. It is not a hard word to write," said James. "I can do that."

"Now write this word." Beth wrote the word boy for him.

"I know what that word is. That is boy. I can draw a boy," Beth saw him draw a stick boy.

"That is me!" James saw Beth's smile. "Dad, mom, me and my dog and God, that is love."

"At the first was the Word; the Word was with God and the Word was God. At the last will be the Word; the Word will be with God and the Word will be God. Mom, I like words." James said, as he sang. "I think I like school too."

Beth knew that it would be hard for James to learn to how to spell all of his words right, but she knew that he could learn to write and would do so in time. In her heart, she sang his song for joy, as James drew one more dog. By it, he wrote the word dog. It was right for the first time.

"I have two dogs now," he said. "Thanks mom and thank you God!" Then, he wrote the word god right too.