Pun Detectives and the Gift of the Magi (Part 2)

“Good things come in threes,” they said.

Whoever “they” were, they were dead wrong.

Three strikes and you’re out.

Three’s a crowd.

Three fries short of a happy meal.

And the list went on. And on. And on.

Threes weren’t all they were cracked up to be.

And then there was that ever-enduring trifecta, a trio that not even thousands upon thousands of years of history could repress. Gold, frankincense, and myrrh. That trio of legend, bestowed by three wise men, each one bearing a single third of the trinity, upon… upon… uh… wait a second. Who the heck did they bestow their gifts upon again? Jesus Christ, how could I have forgotten? Oh well. I was sure I’d remember soon enough. Besides, did anybody even know what frankincense and myrrh even were? Cause I sure didn’t. Myrrh sounded like some kind of STD. And frankincense? Hell if I knew. Could’ve been anything.

Point was: the saying “Good things come in threes” needed a little massaging. Cause it wasn’t exactly right.

Still, maybe there was some truth to it. When I went back to school on Monday, three good things happened all at once, for once. I was as shocked as you probably are. More shocked than you probably are. For once, a whole lot of stuff happened to me that was awesome and stayed that way instead of corkscrewing out of control instantly. But hey, like they said: when it rains, it pours. If there was one thing this last week had taught me, it was that.

Huh.

Maybe “they” weren’t always wrong after all.

Go figure.

(Good thing )#(1)

The first good thing that happened was that I wrapped up the case. The rain finally cleared up over the weekend, and the forecast on my phone was a ribbon of sunshine for the rest of the week. My spirits were high, which was good because my energy reserves were about as low as ever. Staying up until 5 a.m. playing video games with Evan wasn’t the wisest decision I had ever made. Funny thing, morning alarms: on an hour and a half of sleep, they kind of sound like an air raid siren. How Evan did this just about every other night I would never understand. Regardless, I got out of bed instantly for once. I had a job to finish after all.

When I showed up at the music practice room before school, bright and early, Mr. Treble was leaning into his podium and snorting blast after blast of sickly looking snot into the soggy remains of a tissue. He looked genuinely annoyed when I showed him I had recovered the goods. I wasn’t surprised. His violin section was now back in business — minus the one guy who could actually play worth a nickel. Vance was nowhere in sight. I never found out what happened to him, whether he ever came back to marching band, or if the other violin players ever learned about his betrayal.

Speaking of the nine other players, though, they couldn’t have been happier to get their instruments back, and I guessed that was all that mattered in the end. Just before I left, they all sat down to play their part of one of the pieces the band had been practicing, and I caught a little bit of it.

Rumors of their tone deafness had been greatly exaggerated. Of course, I wasn’t exactly the best of judges, but I thought they were pretty good.

Oh, right. Guess who decided to show up on time for once? From halfway across the room, I saw a familiar red 🔴. It popped to reveal a carefree smile nestled snug into a chin rest, cupping the curve of the instrument. Striking Eyes’ bow bounced off the freshly tuned violin and her fingers danced over its neck, pressing strings into sound, stupidly long nails be damned.

She wasn't half bad at all.

The end of Pun Detectives and the Gift of the Magi (Part 2)!
To be continued in Part 3!