PunkRockPrincess

Pompons and Bagels - by merel huijben

Pompons and Bagels
By M.J. Huijben, 1508891, 2635 words.

Laura

I had never liked cheerleaders, with their little dances and gangs gossiping through the

school corridors.

And even though my mom and sister used to be cheerleaders and leading Delta’s in their

days, I never came to appreciate the art of stretching and singing to cheer both public and

players.

I never sought their company at school although they tried to get me with their little gang,

knowing about my mothers and sisters past. By the second semester of freshmen year, they

had invited me for countless dinner parties, dances, slumber parties and of course - football

games. I only attended one party to please my mother, but left after only five minutes when

I discovered they planned on setting me up with the school mascot. A skinny red haired boy

named Timmy with a face so full of freckles that it was like he had blown in the mud. After

that they gave up on me and finally left me alone.

After I had had some of my grandmothers famous blueberry muffins for breakfast that she

had send us the other day, I took my Labrador Teddy for a walk. I always enjoyed taking

him out early in the morning and walk around in our neighborhood when it was still quiet.

Last night it had been far from quiet. The Mayor’s daughter, a true devoted cheerleader and

soon to be Delta new, had been having a slumber party with her girlfriends. Giggling and

girly music had filled the streets and finally stopped after several neighbors had made their

complains.

While crossing the street towards the Johnson’s house, I heard the sharp ringing sound of

glass breaking followed by a knifelike scream coming from Mayor Dobbins’s backyard.

Running through the rose bushes - Mrs. Dobbins took care of as if of her own baby - I

scratched my bare legs on thorns, leaving big red bleeding marks. I could not help noticing a

motorbike hastily leaving Moog Avenue which lays behind the Dobbins’ backyard.

Though Baldwin County had not had a decent shower for at least three months, the air was

humid and the grass seemed to exhale the dew that had fallen a couple of hours before. The

sunlight made the pieces of scattered glass that had found their way in the recently mowed
grass, sparkle like diamonds. They encircled the twisted left leg and the right - bend in a

unusual position. They covered the wide spread arms. And mingled with the bleached strings

of hair.

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Pretty soon the police would come and identify the victim as Chelsea Dobbins, daughter of

Mayor Dobbins, grey eyes, blonde hair, 5 foot 4. A doctor would arrive some minutes later

and fill in the forms concluding that the young woman had died. Cause of death? Severe

spinal cord injuries.

The fact that the Bay Minette Police Department normally did not have more work than

writing bills for speeding, did not mean that they did not have a policy for such situations.

Unfortunately it also did not automatically mean that everything was handled accordingly,

nor handled in the perfect order.

̃

Mel

The scene should have been marked with yellow tape to keep any curious neighbors out who

were bound to ‘stop by’, demand information or even claim to know what happened; but

most importantly, to feed their gossiping tongues. Detective Inspector Mel Hallis sighted.

Since the yellow line had not been drawn, the scene was soon no longer useful to the

detectives and was now everything dependable on stories of what might had happened.

̃

Laura

The girls, still wearing their pink pajamas’ and furry slippers, who had been sleeping at the

time Chelsea died, were all brought to the police office to be questioned. A couple of hours

later I saw Chelsea’s parents, both devastated by the loss of their only child, driving off to

the Police Department themselves. Their grey faces and hollow eyes barely noticeable

through the windshield of their dark blue Cadillac.

I could not focus on my college application essay that afternoon. The police did not ask me

many questions after they had arrived at the scene, neither did I presume to tell them what

I had seen. What I had seen was probably of no importance, it was just another cheerleader

who had gotten into trouble, and sadly, died. They would find out sooner or later what had

happened. It was what cheerleaders did, somehow they seemed to all end up in trouble to

be saved by their rich daddies. But the image of the figure racing off on his motorbike

somehow was permanently imprinted in my memory.

A knock on the door wakened me from my ponderings. My mom entered my room. She was

as dressed up as always, her dyed blonde curls put back in her neck, sealed by a single

pearl necklace. Her make up as natural as possible, to, as she used to say “show off the

features life had given her.” “There are two gentlemen to see you Laura” she said, while

putting back a lock of her hair that had come loose.

̃

Mel

All the way down to the Police Department he had felt like he had forgotten something. But

he could not think of what; he could not even hear himself think because of the sobbing and

wailing of the four girls in the backseat of the van. He wondered if the one responsible for

the girls’ dead had gotten sick of it too, was that why she died?

It was only after he had sent four of his female colleagues to question the girls and read his

notes of that morning that he remembered the girl who had made the phone call. How could

he have forgotten about the prime witness?

Though the scene nor the witness statements were not as helpful as they should have been,

every little detail seemed to indicate that Chelsea’s dead was no accident. Someone must

have had pushed her. According to the forensic expert who examined the girl’s body there

were no bruises indicating a fight or struggle. Even though bruises had not occurred on

Chelsea’s back there had been nail polish on the back of her boyfriend’s football shirt she

was wearing.

On the stairs had been the remaining of a platter with bagels and fresh coffee. The victim

obviously had been wanting to surprise her girlfriends with breakfast in bed. “She must have

been pushed by someone”, he thought. But since she did not seem to have any enemies, he

had no idea where to look for probable suspects.

He had only briefly talked to the girl who had called the police and did not remember her

face. And as he entered the Jannice’s house he expected another copy of the sobbing and

wailing girls he had had in his van that morning. But the girl in stonewashed jeans and a

green colored hoodie calmly walking down the stairs, did not fit his expectations. He

wondered whether she could help them, since there was too little information found on the

scene nor were the statements of the girls and parents of any help.

̃

Laura never liked wearing tight tops, showing off her features. She never cared much for

clothes and only required one thing of them, they ought to be comfy and the right color.

Normally she wore her dark blonde shoulder length hair in a ponytail. She did not have

bangs; she liked her eyebrows and had no intention to hide them. She thought eyebrows

made the expression, complimented the eyes and therefore were way too important to

conceal.

̃

Laura

I sat down at the kitchen table while my mom offered the two police officers coffee and tea,

showing off her perfectly manicured nails, this time covered with a sparkling old pink color.

Inspector Hallis did not like introducing his questions with chitchat about the weather, and

immediately came to business. “Miss Laura” he started. “You heard the girl’s scream and

then found her body, you have told my colleague about this matter.”

I carefully looked to my left. Inspector Morris obviously seemed to be very young still.

Inspector Hallis, whose dark brown hair slightly started to fade to grey, on the other hand

appeared to be much more experienced. I felt comfortable enough and decided to tell him

that while police was investigating the scene I had walked to the other side of the backyard

and jumped over the fifty inch high hedge, to see whether I could discover any traces made

by the motorbike I had seen driving off.

He wanted to know everything I knew about the girl who I went to school with and had been

living in the same street for years. There had to be something I knew that would be helpful

to the investigation. So I told him everything I knew, once in a while my mom would add

something; in my opinion deliberately touching Inspector Hallis’s shoulder every time she

spoke.

I told him about kindergarten, how we always had been totally different and never got

along. But that somehow our lives had always touched each other. I wondered about one

thing though, I did not know what to do, and as the conversation suddenly stopped my

anxiety grew.

̃

Mel

Laura seemed to tremble, her brown eyes narrowed and she started twiddling her hands.

Inspector Hallis wondered if there was something she was keeping from him. Even though

the information she had given him helped him to form a clearer view on the Dobbins’s girl.

Then all of a sudden – and finally in Inspector Hallis’s opinion – young inspector Morris

opened his mouth. “Laura, are you sure you have told us everything?”.

Laura looked like she was about to rise and leave the room, but only for a moment, then she

sighted and seemed to relax. “Actually there is something I have not told you yet, I do not

know if it is of any use to tell you and I certainly do not want to bring those girls nor Paul

into any trouble.” Inspector Morris kept quiet en so did his older companion. “Come on

Laura, you can tell these two gentlemen everything you know. They will not lock up any

harmless children, will you Detective Inspector Hallis?” Though Inspector Hallis had been

terribly annoyed by Mrs. Jannice’s behavior ever since they had entered the house, he now

actually was glad she interfered.

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Laura

“I do not know if any of Chelsea’s friends have told you this. Chelsea has a boyfriend, Paul

Bryant. He is the quarterback in the school’s football team. He and Chelsea have been

dating about four months now.” I saw Inspector Morris raise his eyebrow but I continued. “I

know because I often sit in my window sill, and have seen him bringing Chelsea home. He

drives a black Yamaha motorbike, with red stripes on the sides. But the last couple of weeks

the rumor has been going that he was cheating on her with one of her best friends, Daisy. I

do not know if it is true, but the last time I saw Chelsea and Paul together they were fighting

at her father’s doorstep.”

Inspector Hallis insisted on seeing the place where I had seen the figure on the motorbike

leave. As we walked towards the Mayor Dobbins’ mansion over the pavement that was now

warm and dry because of the blistering sun, I saw something moving in the bushes.

I did not think the men saw it. When we got closer I recognized the figure that seemed to be

carrying a little black package. The moment I opened my mouth, Inspector Morris saw it too

and called out to make the person – whoever it was – stop.

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Paul

How could he have been so blockheaded to just drive off like that? At least nobody had seen

him driving off; except for Daisy no one knew he had dropped by that morning. And she

would never tell, he had made her promise not to. The security camera must have had

recorded everything, if the police would find out they would definitely suspect him and come

for him. Only the thought of asking his dad for help from the inside of a cell in the police

department made him sweat even more than he already did. Not to think of losing his

position in the football team. He had worked so hard to get there. He had to get that

videotape. It was a good thing he had helped Mr. Dobbins to install the camera’s after that

burglary, the only thing he had to do was to sneak in and get the tape..

The tape was still there, no one had thought of removing it. The police probably had not

thought of checking the security camera’s. He let a sigh of relief, there was nothing to be

panicky about. As he closed the backdoor - the one he had helped Mr. Dobbins with painting

firefighter red - behind him and walked across the grass carpet in the backyard he heard a

man call out to him, demanding him to stop. His heart started to beat twice as fast as he

stood still and turned around. The two man both wearing white shirts and black trousers

where definitely police officers. He saw Laura was with them and started to run. “She must

have told them everything,” he thought. He jumped over the hedge where he had parked his

motorbike, just like that morning, and drove off almost bumping into a parked car on the

right side of Moog avenue. It was only when he was driving on Jaycee Road, that he realized

that he had lost the tape..
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Laura

The figure walking across the grass carpet in Dobbins’s backyard stopped and slowly turned

around. I recognized the dark curly hair that laid on his forehead. The muscles in his arms

tightened and stretched the red T-shirt he was wearing. Paul turned around and started

running; both Inspectors followed. It was obvious that Inspector Hallis was too old for

chasing young criminals; he slowed his speed before he had crossed the backyard.

Inspector Morris came back holding something in his hand. It was the little black package

Paul had been carrying when they saw him coming out of the Dobbins’s house.

̃
Mel

Detective Inspector Mel Harris cramped his fingers around the worn off steering wheel of his

van. He could not wait until they got back at the police station and watch the security tape

of the Dobbins’s house. And he could tell from the sniffing of his younger colleague – who

was constantly turning and moving in his seat – that he was also eager to see what was on

the tape. He wondered whether he had done the right thing by not bringing Laura along, she

had been of great help to their investigation.

He looked at Morris’s white astonished face, and pushed the rewind button of his old video

recorder. His secretary had been wanting to replace it with one of those new high-tech

recorders. But somehow he was attached to it, as he was to the rest of his office with its old

musty containing. Together they looked again to the couple making out on the porch on the

left side of the house.

And again the image switched to another camera that had been recording at the same time.

A girl with bleached blonde hair in a football T-shirt climbed the stairs; in her hands a platter

with filled coffee cups and bagels. She wobbled and the platter almost slipped out of her

perfectly manicured hands. Then when she had almost reached the landing, she slipped out

of her slipper and got out of balance; stretching out her hands to break her fall. Seconds

later all the image contained was the broken window, its sharp shards shimmering in the

sunlight.