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There is a First Time for Everything
I'll never forget the first mystery that I solved.
I was twelve years old and in the sixth grade. It was a bright, sunny April afternoon. I had gotten all ready to go home when I noticed that my backpack was missing.
"Mrs. Larson, my backpack is gone."
"Come on, let's see if we can find it. Maybe you overlooked it."
For ten minutes my teacher and I looked around where my backpack normally sat, below my jacket.
The only thing we saw were a couple of partially finished worksheets. They weren't mine, and they didn't have any names on them. Mrs. Larson didn't even recognize the hand writing. She knew the kids who's bags were normally next to mine, and the hand writing on the worksheets didn't match theirs.
Mrs. Larson said that I could use the phone in the teacher's lounge to call my mom.
My bus pass was in my backpack and mom had told me not to ride home with anyone else.
"Mahahahahmmmmm! Come get me, somebody took my backpack," I whined into the phone.
As I was working on my assignments, I couldn't help but think that it was too bad that my homework wasn't already in my backpack before it disappeared.
When I finished my work, I thought about what had happened to my backpack.
Where did it go? Who took it? Who hated me that much to kidnap my dearly beloved keeper-of-stuff?
What kind of person was that callous, that cruel, that evil, to do something like that?
As I was trying to fall asleep, I mentally tried to compile a list of suspects. But I really couldn't think of anyone that I had upset that much, or that didn't like me.
I was going to have to wait until I got to school in the morning to start to figure this out.
After Dad dropped me off at school in the morning, I began my investigation.
I watched everyone get off the bus, while I wrote notes in my small note pad about the kids.
Later that morning, during art class, I watched carefully to see if anyone was using my new colored pencils, that had been in my backpack.
I wasn't getting anywhere.
Maybe I needed a "Dr. Watson" to help me. Then it hit me, I knew who could help me out. I always ate lunch with Jenny Zimmer, my best friend. I would tell her that my backpack had disappeared, maybe she could help me figure it out.
After I explained my predicament to her, I asked her if she would be willing to give me a hand.
She happily agreed to help me find my backpack.
After talking about it for ten minutes, we came up with a list of five possible suspects, and their motives for wanting my bag.
Jeff Davis, in my mind, was the most likely suspect. He was the sixth grade bully, and he would have probably done something like that just to be mean. He took one of my gloves the previous winter, and we found it in his desk.
Then there was Abby Fitzgerald. She was a pretty girl, but she didn't seem too bright. She was jealous that I got perfect grades and she didn't. She was always staring at my bag when we rode home on the bus.
Third on the list was Pete Nichols, a kid who lived in the trailer park. His family was poor and he was always asking people for money.
Beth Richards and I were what you could call "rivals". She even went so far as to trip me during a soccer game in P.E. class. Anything I had, she wanted.
And finally, there was Mike Harris. I don't know much about him, his Dad worked for UPS and they had just moved to town. He seemed okay, but he acted a little weird sometimes.
The afternoon crept at a snail's pace. It was relatively uneventful. In Reading class, we had silent reading the whole time. It was boring!
In Science, we watched our bean sprouts grow. Boring!
In Health, we watched a movie about human reproduction. Ewwwww! Boring, boring, boring!!!
The "Jeopardy" song kept creeping into my head. I questioned whether the day would ever end.
We had some free time at the end of the day, just before the dismissal bell rang. I was going to see if Mrs. Larson would let me look at those worksheets that had been by my jacket the previous day. But then Jenny and I got to talking and before I knew it, the bell was ringing.
I rushed up to Mrs. Larson to remind her to ask if anyone had seen my backpack since the day before. But before I reached her, she said, "One minute, Lauren. Mike, would you please come here?"
"Sure Mrs. Larson."
"I want you to show Lauren what you found in the library, when you were in there during "free time" a few minutes ago."
With a big, shy smile, Mike pulled my backpack from behind his back.
"I wasn't sure whether this was yours or not", he said as he handed me my bag. "then I saw that your name was on the inside."
I couldn't believe that I had forgotten it in the library during "research" time the day before. No one had actually taken my backpack after all.
I was happy that I had my backpack back. I should have felt guilty for suspecting my classmates, but instead this incident only fueled my interest in mysteries.
In case you're curious, my friend, Jenny, is now a prosecuting attorney. Her fascination with this mystery lead her down that career path.
Jeff Davis has turned into a world-class heavy weight boxing champion. It seems that all of aggression has paid off for him.
Ann Fitzgerald, the girl that had been so jealous about my grades, is now, ironically, a college professor, some thirty-plus years later. She trains special education teachers. Next, we have Pete Nichols, he hasn't really changed much. He still comes around asking for money, but now it is harder to turn him down, as head of the local Salvation Army.
Beth Richards is the same Beth Richards that I knew in elementary school. The only difference is that she is Lieutenant Richards, over at the Police Department.
Lastly, Mike Harris. He moved away in seventh grade. The constant relocating could have scarred him for life, but he used it to his advantage. He is now a U.S. Secret Service agent. He follows the President wherever he goes.
...And I, Lauren McCarthy, have yet to end my love affair with mysteries.
