Trouble at the Park, Part 1

Jack Barnes’s phone rang at noon.  It was Kurt Morris, one of his best friends and a fellow member of the Detective Club.  Kurt wasn’t calling about a mystery, though.

“Hey, Jack!  I checked the weather, and it’s not supposed to be very windy until three o’clock.  Want to help me try out my new helicopter at the park?”

“Sure!” said Jack.  Kurt had purchased a remote control helicopter a week ago, and he was looking forward to using it.  Unfortunately for him, the last week had been quite windy, and Kurt had been afraid to fly it for fear it would hit a tree or power lines or something of that nature.  He’d been watching the weather like a hawk, and now that the wind had died, he would not miss his chance.

“Call Robbie and tell him,” said Kurt.  “I’ll meet you all there in thirty minutes.”  Robbie Ransom was the third member of the Detective Club, rounding it out unless you counted Emma Barnes, Jack’s younger sister by five years.  No one did except for Emma.

Jack was afraid he would have trouble getting down to the park without noticing.  Emma was notorious for following along, once hiring a taxi to follow the boys when they were on a bus!  Actually, it was a good thing she had, or—but that was “Trouble on the Bus.”  If you missed that last week, catch up on it now.  Jack saw no sign of Emma as he left the house today, and he decided to assume she wasn’t around.

He and Robbie wound up beating Kurt to the park, but it was worth the wait when Kurt showed up with his chopper.  The sun glinted off the large metal case that held the 19.3 inch whirlybird.

“Cool!” said Robbie.  “This will be your first time flying it, right?”

“Right,” said Kurt, “and I will be the first to fly it.  I’m sure neither of you are interested in piloting it, are you?”

“You know we are!” said Jack.

“Oh, you are?”  Kurt acted surprised.  “Well, if you really want to, I’ll give you a chance.  Just be warned.  The battery’s only supposed to last five-to-eight minutes, and it takes two hours to charge, so we won’t be able to fly it that long.”

“Too bad,” said Jack.  “Still, that gives us some time.”  He and Robbie watched admiringly as Kurt opened the case and removed the copter.  He adjusted the propeller, made sure everything was in place, and pulled out the remote control.

“Now, back away!” he ordered.  “This thing’s about to take off!”

The three “pilots” moved out of the way and watched as Kurt fiddled with the controls.  The blades began to spin.  Then, the craft slowly lifted off the ground and moved into the air.

“Let’s take this around the park!” called Kurt.  He moved one of the joysticks, and the copter darted forward.  Kurt followed down below, wanting to make sure it didn’t go out of range.

Robbie and Jack tagged along, watching the shiny copter cut through the air.  They noticed other people watching too.  The copter had lights on it, but they weren’t really visible in the afternoon sun.  However, the sheer size of the copter made it quite eye-catching.

Kurt flew it for three minutes, then handed the controls off to Robbie.  “Don’t crash it into that playground!” he warned.

Robbie was out of breath from running around the park.  “I think I’ll keep it in this general area,” he said.  He experimented with the altitude joystick, raising the copter up and down, up and down, up and down.

Jack didn’t mind the break.  He watched what Robbie was doing for a minute.  Then, he glanced at the playground they stood next to.  It was a large playground, with two sets of equipment, swings, and four slides.  Several kids were on it now, most using the equipment.  One little girl who wasn’t caught Jack’s eye.  She was standing at one edge of the playground, bawling her brains out.

Often, crying kids on playgrounds annoyed Jack.  He’d been on them many times before, and he never cried.  He didn’t cry the time he fell off the swing.  He didn’t cry the time he slipped on the ladder.  He didn’t even cry the time he went down a large slide headfirst!  (Of course, that was because he’d been unconscious at the end of the run, but that doesn’t change the facts.)  As a result, he didn’t tend to look highly on other children who did cry.

For some reason, though, Jack found himself feeling sorry for the girl.  He wondered why.  Two minutes passed, and then, he figured it out.  At the end of two minutes, the girl was still sobbing, and no parent had come over to do anything about it.

That was something else Jack didn’t like.  Inattentive parents.  His own parents, when he was younger, had always made sure he wasn’t hurting himself or getting into trouble on playgrounds.  Such was not always the case with other kids.  Jack had seen too many get in trouble mainly because their parent wasn’t around or wasn’t paying attention.  That seemed to be what was going on here, so Jack decided to step in.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, going over to the girl.  She looked up at him, and he guessed her to be about a year younger than his little sister.  Tears still filling her blue eyes, she sniffed.

“I can’t find my mommy,” she whined.

Now, Jack really felt sorry for her.  “Would you like me to help find her?” he asked.

The girl thought a minute, then nodded.

“Okay.”  Jack thought about asking for a description but decided against it.  The girl’s mother was somewhere around, and she should be able to identify her easily enough.  “Where did you last see your mother?” he asked.

“She was sitting over on that bench,” said the girl, between sniffs.  “When I looked over just now, she wasn’t there.”

“She probably got up to stretch her legs,” said Jack, leading the girl over to the bench.  It was empty, except for—

“Is this your mother’s purse?” he asked.

The girl nodded.

“Well, then she can’t be far away.  Look all around.  Do you see her?”

The girl looked around.  There were three moms (too few for so many kids on the playground, Jack thought) standing around, but the girl didn’t appear to recognize any of them.  “I don’t see her,” she said, before sobbing again.

Jack looked around.  The bench with the purse on it was at the edge of the playground.  Behind it, there was a strip of grass for about twenty feet before a sidewalk next to a busy street.  To Jack’s left, bushes screened a fence which spelled the edge of the park.  That left only two directions to search.

“Your mother must have wandered down that way or that way,” he said, pointing the other two directions.  “Want to go check?” the girl nodded.

“Robbie, land that copter!” called Jack.  “I’ll fly it soon, but right now, I need to help this girl find her mother.”

“What?” called Robbie, still staring at the helicopter.  “I’ll explain,” said Kurt.  “You go ahead.”

Jack and the girl walked down the path the boys had followed to get to the playground.  This path led all the way around the park, and Jack waited for the girl to identify someone as her mother.

But when they got back to the playground, the girl still hadn’t spotted anybody.  Jack looked down at her, trying to keep a worried look from crossing his face.  “So you didn’t see her.  Is she at the playground now?”

“No,” said the girl, looking around.  She started to cry again.

“Wait right here,” said Jack.  He ran back over to the bench and checked.  Yes, the purse was still there.

A mother might forget her purse, thought Jack, but she wouldn’t forget her daughter too.  He rushed over to Kurt and Robbie.

“Keep an eye on that girl,” he instructed them.  “I’m going to go find a phone.  Her mother’s disappeared!”

[Tune in next week for part 2 of “Trouble in the Park”!]