Twinkle Toes Malone

The clock high above the town square chimed midnight. The courthouse windows emitted a dim, yellow light, giving them the appearance of eyes peering through the darkness. Inspector Tobias Malone moved stealthily across the lawn, stopping under a sycamore tree. He leaned back against the trunk to catch his breath. I’ve got to stop eating so much peanut butter pie, and drag out that Bowflex, he thought to himself. The street lamps, dimmed by dense fog, did little to alleviate the blackness of all Hallows Eve.

In this tiny town, with little else to do on Halloween, the teenage population threw all caution to the wind and morphed into vandals. Their target, the town square in general and the courthouse in particular. Tonight, Inspector Tobias planned to catch them in the act and toss them all in the pokey. The townspeople didn’t seem to mind the children’s antics, turning a blind eye, even enjoying their artwork. Last year, there were even parents out taking pictures of the mass of toilet paper streaming from the trees and the plastic wrap blocking the entrance on a busy court morning. Inspector Tobias, who doubled as maintenance man/groundskeeper, planned to change all that. He was sick of cleaning up toilet paper, and after all, vandalism was a crime. This year, he would be the courthouse hero.

Catching a movement out of the corner of his eye, Inspector Tobias jerked his head left, and then covered his mouth to keep from crying out in pain. However, the crack of his hard head striking an even harder tree seemed to echo around the downtown square. He dragged a handkerchief out of his back pocket and mopped up the warm blood trickling down the side of his face. He expected to wake up tomorrow with yet another black eye. Note to self, try to be less clumsy, he admonished.

A black cat joined him under the tree. He couldn’t see it, so he didn’t know it was old Mrs. Gilbert’s tom. He could only tell some furry creature was busy attacking his leg, and it hurt almost as much as his head. He gave the animal a swift kick. Only as it sailed through the air on its way to the side of the building, did he recognize the cat’s angry yowl. The noise stopped mid-screech. Tobias bent down to rub the scratch marks, only to discover his trouser legs were soaking wet. “Whoever the County is paying to mow this lawn needs fired. The grass is too high and the leaves need raked,” he muttered, and then remembered he was the groundskeeper. He briefly wondered if slamming a black cat against the side of a building was bad luck, shrugged, and turned his attention back to the task at hand.

After searching the dark, nebulous grounds for signs of movement, Inspector Tobias darted from tree to tree until he reached the courthouse doors. He slipped the master key in the lock, turned, and disappeared inside.

Inspector Tobias peeked outside. His eyes darted back and forth, coming to rest on a dark figure standing on the gazebo steps. Tobias jumped backwards. Just as he slammed his back against the wall, the hall lights came on. Certain he was not alone, Tobias dropped to his knees while simultaneously pulling his gun out of its holster. Unfortunately, the safety wasn’t on. The resulting gunshot reverberated throughout the building. The slug ricocheted off Abe Lincoln’s Portrait, curved back around, and made a bee line for Tobias. Fortunately the bullet missed his skull, merely removing a small section of the left ear lobe. Tobias spouted off his entire repertoire of curse words. Realizing he was responsible for tuning on the lights when he bumped into the switch, Tobias cursed again and turned them off.

With the aid of a pin light, Inspector Tobias made his way up to the third floor communications room. From the window, he would be able to keep an eye on the grounds and thwart any attempts at Halloween trickery.

Once inside the room, he propped the door open with a folding chair, and returned the pin light to his pocket. He looked out the window, relieved to see the fog seemed less dense. It was then he saw Brandon Carter slip from the cover of the sycamore tree and crouch down next to a bench. Other shadows separated from trees, moving toward the basement door. Before Tobias could turn to leave, the door behind him slammed shut, and the lock clicked into place.

Tobias tried opening the door, but the knob wouldn’t turn. Unfortunately repairing the broken latch was on his ‘to do’ list and he hadn’t gotten around to doing anything about it.

“Let me out of here, you little bastards,” he called.

A rustling near his feet had him turning the light on. Someone had slipped a note under the door. He muttered a curse word or two under his breath, as his eyes scanned the contents of the note—Put on the costume and we’ll let you out. Tobias turned around, and nearly screamed. At first he thought a woman was standing behind him, but then he realized it was only a frilly pink tutu hanging against the wall, leggings and matching ballet shoes lay on the floor beside him.

Inspector Tobias lost his cool. He kicked the door as hard as he could, and then hopped around on one foot until the pain lessened enough to speak, “Let me out of here you little shits!” Silence greeted his outburst.

Someone slipped another note under the door. Put on the costume, or you’ll be in there the rest of the weekend. It seemed to Tobias, there was nothing to do but comply or be locked up indefinitely. Besides, as soon as he had those vandals in handcuffs, he would put his uniform back on.

With his uniform neatly folded, Tobias wiggled into the pink tights, and then pulled on the tutu. It was a perfect fit. He slid his feet into matching ballet shoes, and resisted the urge to try a pirouette or petit jeté (jump) in such a small room. Still, habit forced him to stand erect in first position. He looked down at his feet and wondered if someone knew his mother had forced him to take ballet lessons, or was the costume a coincidence.

“Okay! I’m ready!” He called.

The door groaned loudly as it swung open. Inspector Tobias decided to give his audience a show. He closed his eyes, flipped on the third floor lights, and began a pas de chat (step of the cat), as he had done while performing Swan Lake so many years ago. He leaped off his left leg, starting from a plié and raised the right leg into retiré. In midair, he raised his left leg into retiré, too, so his legs formed a diamond shape in the air. He landed on his right leg and with his left leg still in retiré, brought it down, landing in a plié. He expected applause, but when he opened his eyes, he was alone.

He heard voices from the second floor courtroom, and made his way toward the railing to see what was going on down there. It was then he saw movement out of the corner of his eye. He glanced to his right in time to see a wheel of cheese, or no, it wasn’t cheese, it was a large wheel of toilet paper, rolling toward him. In order to avoid being struck by the roll of speeding toilet paper, he performed a grand jeté. Unfortunately the jeté (jump) was too grand. Inspector Tobias gracefully slid through the air, over the third floor railing, and descended into the second floor courtroom. As he dropped toward the defendant’s table, he saw Brandon Carter again, and realized he was falling toward a Halloween party in full swing. The costumed attendees called out, “Happy Halloween Inspector Tobias!” Upon impact, the room went black.

When Tobias came to, he lay still, keeping his eyes closed. It was then he heard a distant voice call out, “Yoo whooo Poopsie! You awake? Yoo whoooo Twinkle Toes Malone, wake up. Did you forget you have a special Halloween matinee of Swan Lake?”

His mom knocked loudly on the bedroom door. “I’m up,” Tobias yelled.

Still, his mother continued in an accusatory voice, “Do you have a hangover? You didn’t spike the punch at the Courthouse Halloween party again—did you?”