Wickett Jones and The Pilfered Pan

Chapter 1: Beauty and The Bees

   There were two things Wickett Jones was sure of on this early Tuesday morning: One, that the glass jar in her backpack was undeniably broken. And two, that her backpack was now home to a swarm of angry bees. This item, from here on called the Bee Bag, could certainly be classified as a weapon, and one would think that at any moment the government would come knocking on the door to the Jones residence, requesting a patent on the Bee Bag for a war-time weapon. However, this did not happen. Instead, the moment the crunch of glass was heard, Grace Jones appeared at the bottom of the stairwell. She did not appear happy.

   Grace Jones, the mother of the Jones household, was a strong willed woman, though one may not assume so on appearance alone. Cheerful, round cheekbones upon which sat large, red rimmed spectacles gave her an almost bookish, if not nanny-ish appearance. Her sepia skin flecked with freckles and the frilly apron hugging her wide frame gave one the impression that she had jumped straight from a fairy tale. However, in this moment, it was not words of encouragement for our hero, nor advice that came from her full lips. 

   "Wickett Caroline Jones!" Came that shrill cry, waving a spoon up at the top of the stairs. "That had better not be one of your brother's science projects again! If I find out that was you, I'm taking your-" Thankfully, it was in this moment that the scent of burning soup touched her nostrils, and her sentence was never finished as she rushed to the kitchen to rescue the family's lunch before it would be squarely packed away in each family member's lunch pails.

   And, for the first time in a long time, it had *not,* in fact, been Wickett's fault that something had broken. It was, this time, her brother who had broken something of hers... Which had now resulted in the Bee Bag.

   Corin Jones, with his slender frame and wide, emerald eyes, peered through his spectacles that were much too big for his scrawny face and focused on the buzzing bag that lay at the foot of his sister's bed.

   "A-All I wanted was for you to keep your stuff out of my room!" Corin stammered out, his eyes never leaving the bag that now seemed to swell with rage. "What do you have in there?! A-And why?!" His eyes briefly flashed to his twin, who was at this moment hurriedly opening a window.

   Wickett Jones turned back to face her brother, her button nose scrunched up as she cautiously approached the war zone. The freshman, whose ebony skin and freckled face was very much not unlike her mother's, swiftly picked up the cerulean bag, which now vibrated with a fury that could also be matched with her mother's if it were discovered that she had been host to twenty two stinging housemates.

   "Well," began the girl as she carried the swaying back to the window by one shoulder strap, "I had intended on stopping by the wildflower patch on our way to school today. You know, the one at the edge of Orchard Avenue? It's almost zinnia season, and I wanted to help pollinate." The natural curls wound tightly on her head wobbled a little as she leaned far out of the second story window of the only azure house on Dahlia Street. The early morning sun seemed to gleam off her honey-flavored Too Face lip gloss as Wickett Jones fumbled to release the swarm into the morning sky and hurriedly close the window before any of them returned to seek vengeance upon those who had disturbed them.

   "So your solution was to keep a jar of bees in your backpack?" Corin watched with bewildered eyes as the clan of striped insects dispersed upon the backdrop of a warm, almost-summer morning. "That just sounds like an accident waiting to happen. It's a good thing mom didn't-" 

   "Mom didn't what?" Came the voice of their mother from the doorway, who had given up her soup cleansing to come inspect the suspicious noise. Strands of her voluminous curls had began to drift into her face, either from the heat of the soup or from the effort of walking up the stairs, with every footfall being more angry than the last over knowing something was broken. Grace huffed, blowing a few of these curls out of her face. She raised a suspicious eyebrow at the sight of her daughter holding the window shut. Both of the twins whirled to face their adoptive mother, 'innocent' smiles across their faces... Which usually meant trouble, especially when Wickett was involved.

   "Didn't  find out about the surprise! Way to go, Corin." Wickett gave an over-the-top sigh as she moved to slide by both her family members in an effort to escape the situation. "We were gonna pick some flowers for you on the way home today, but I guess Corin ruined the big surprise again." Wickett gave a glance to her brother, who quickly followed suit as the two attempted to rush their way past Grace and down to the kitchen.

   "Uh, yeah, sorry about that. We'll have to come up with something better, then, won't we, Wickett?" Her twin replied, scuttling off like a puppy with its tail tucked between its legs. At this point, Grace had obviously caught on, as most mothers would have, but decided to let it go at the promise of something 'better.'

   "I know something that could be better." Grace smirked as she followed her children down to the kitchen where another member of their family, Mallory, sat texting at the counter. "You two could clean out the garage this weekend. Your father keeps promising to build me a new bookshelf, and he might actually pull through on it if he had some space to work. You all clean the garage, and I won't ask about whatever I heard break... as long as it wasn't expensive. Deal?"

   Mallory, being the eldest of the three children, and certainly the more 'popular' of the three, though she certainly did not seem to notice, was in her junior year in high school. Just a measly two years ahead of the other two Jones kids. Though her complexion fared lighter than her siblings, her eyes were a much darker amber color, as both twins bore striking emerald eyes. It seemed to be the only thing that really made the twins alike, as both their personalities and their looks differed from one another. Mallory, on the other hand, had much lighter, almost reddish hair. This was the only way in which any of the kids resembled their father at all. The twins, being adopted, had no way of really looking like either parent, but thankfully Mallory's looks took after mainly her mother. Her personality, however, was all her own. The girl snickered and playfully shot a snideful look at Wickett at getting out of having to clean the garage. While not disdainful of her siblings, she took on the role of what most big siblings do: Teasing the younger ones. 

   "Deal." Came the concurrent voices of the disgruntled twins, though every person it that kitchen most likely knew that there would be no garage cleaning this weekend. It was, after all, the beginning of what was known as the Fayflower Festival, a one week 'festival' that lead up to the town's big County Fair. Fayflower Festival was a big deal to both the children, and the adults of the town. Kids got out of school for a week, all local businesses promoted their merchandise, there was even a parade! One could not go ten paces down a street without either seeing a sign promoting something or other, or a sidewalk stall or booth of some kind. This was the main reason kids got out of school for a week, generally to help their parents run a business. Fayflower Festival was a big tourist attraction, after all, and one that culminated in the biggest tourist attraction in Orangeglow County: The County Fair.

   The Fayflower County Fair was huge, spanning a large sectioned off field right outside the town. This was the only reason for this field existing in the first place. Fayflower had been holding this fair for the past century or so, so of course it was also renown to all local towns, as well. Carnival rides, tractor pulls, livestock competitions, 4H competitions, and the biggest part of all: The foods. From vendors, to bake-offs, to even largest tomato tournaments, the Fayflower County Fair had something for everyone to enjoy...and usually to eat, too. And with such prizes as cash prizes or a year's supply of cherry jam from Fayflower's own Grover's Grotto Orchard, it was no wonder that almost every single person in Fayflower and its neighboring towns had something to compete in. Everyone, it would seem, except Wickett Jones.