The Case of a Murdered Teacup

It was evening, a chill breeze had swept through Lockeside, and leaves left their carefully crafted piles for pebbled roads. Fall was well on its way and, though he was reminded time and time again to bundle up, Waltie couldn’t help but find every excuse to play outside. After all, he was four and no weather, no matter how severe, would stop him from finding the next shiny thing. He’d trudge through the hill behind his house or lean close by nearby streams if it meant adding to his assortment of oddities. 

During one of his scavenger hunts, Waltie had discovered a most precious item. An old teacup. It was still in tact and decorated with flowers. He brought it over to his older cousin, who’d been in the middle of hunting squirrels, and presented it. 

“Can I have it?” Waltie had asked. His older cousin lowered his rifle and inspected the teacup. 

“You’ll have to keep in the kitchen or else it’ll break. You’ll need to wash it real good too.” 

Waltie beamed. Yaaaay! It was always a joy when Jaime let him keep his latest discovery. Jaime pulled out a knapsack and wrapped up the teacup. 

“Be careful, little dude. I don’t want you stepping on broken glass, you hear me?” 

Waltie nodded. 

“I’ll be careful!” He promised. 

Later on, he presented the teacup to his six year old brother Billie. Billie had also warned him to hide the teacup least the Mothman take it. Billie often used the Mothman the same way parents would use the Boogeyman; a tale of terror to keep the nearby children well behaved. Either that or he was in the middle of a cryptid phase. Still, Billie often left him spooked with tales of Point Pleasant and constant reminders they only lived two hours away from the town. 

Waltie had gone to the kitchen and put the teacup in a drawer. He hid it underneath a few layers of napkins and hoped no one would discover it. It was his and he was determined to have at least one cup of tea with it. He’d be like the fancy men in the old movies that his momma watched. She’d really love him more than Pops then. 

It’d been about five days since he’d hidden the teacup. Waltie sat on the porch and doodled in his worn out sketchbook. Waltie perked up at every car or footstep that passed by, hoping that Jaime had returned from his errands. He’d promised Waltie that he would get him those teabags and, if Jaime didn’t follow through, Waltie would just about cry. 

Billie checked on him every thirty minutes and even offered him some hot chocolate. Waltie had declined his offer. He wanted to keep his tummy empty for as much tea as possible. Eventually Billie joined his little brother and put a Hunter’s hat on Waltie’s sandy blond curls.

“Is momma still awake?” Waltie asked. Billie shook his head. Waltie frowned. 

“She fell asleep on the couch again. You can always have tea tomorrow when she’s awake.” 

“But I want tea nooowww.” Waltie whined.

Maybe if she smelled the aroma, momma would wake up and catch Waltie sipping his tea in the kitchen. Her eyes would light up and she’d hug him; even compliment him. Oh, he’d love that.

“Sides, Pops ain’t home tonight, but he’ll be home ‘morrow and he’ll make momma sad again.” 

“Jaime won’t let that happen.” Billie consoled Waltie. 

“Jaime can’t make momma happy neither.” Waltie countered. 

“He can sometimes.” 

Waltie huffed and continued to doodle. He wasn’t about to argue with Billie over momma. There was too much at stake tonight. 

An engine’s roar neared the house. Waltie looked up and spotted Jaime in the passenger side of a jeep. He hugged the driver, a girl with dark green hair, and popped open the door. 

“Hi, Waltie!” The girl shouted at him. 

“Thanks again, Alissa.” Jaime hopped out of the Jeep with a baggy in hand. Waltie gasped and stood. 

“Guess what I got, little dude?” Jaime sang. Waltie jumped and danced a little. 

“My tea?! You got my tea?!” 

“Yeah!” 

“Yesssss!” 

Jaime walked up to the porch and pulled the door open. Waltie gathered up his crayons and sketchbook, following Jaime inside. Jaime laid the baggy on the kitchen counter and pulled out a box of chamomile tea. Waltie squeaked, unable to contain his excitement. 

“Why don’t you go get yer teacup?” 

Waltie nodded and ran to the drawer. He pulled it open and removed the napkins…but the teacup wasn’t there. His smile turned upside down as a lump formed in his stomach. 

“It’s—it’s not here!” 

Jaime rose an eyebrow. He zoned in on Billie. 

“Did you move the teacup?” 

“What?!” Billie tensed at the accusation. “No!” 

“Then where’d it go?” 

Billie shrugged and mumbled. 

“What was that?” 

“I said ‘I don’t know’!” Billie shouted. 

“Don’t you shout at me. C’mon, help me find it.”

Jaime grabbed Billie by the arm and the two went upstairs. Waltie decided to join the search. He looked under the couch, tiptoed around his momma, and peeked behind the TV, but it wasn’t there. He opened the closet and scanned outside in the backyard. It wasn’t there either. 

Where was his teacup?! 

“Waltie…!” Billie called from upstairs. Waltie froze as thoughts of the worse case scenario plagued his tiny mind. “Waaaaltieee…!” 

Waltie inhaled and crawled upstairs. He met his brother and older cousin by the restroom. Jaime frowned and kneeled. 

“We found yer teacup, but, uhh…” Jaime moved and presented the shattered remains of his precious find in the bathroom. 

Waltie screamed. His teacup had been murdered! Who on earth would commit such a vile, such an atrocious, such an evil act of betrayal?!

Jaime immediately squinted at Billie. 

“Did you do it?!” 

Billie gasped. 

“I didn’t even know where it was! How do I know YOU didn’t do it?!” 

“Why would I do that to Waltie?!” 

“Sometimes you come home all sleepy and do dumb things!”

“Excuse me?! When I’m tired, I go to my bedroom! I don’t do nothin’ to nobody!” 

Tears welled up in Waltie’s eyes and rolled down his cheeks.

“That’s exactly what a murderer would say!” He cried.

“Murderer?!” Jaime asked incredulously. 

“Yeah,” Billie egged on. “You’s a murderer. You should go to JAIL!” 

Jaime raised his hands and gently grabbed Waltie’s shoulders.

“Listen, little dude, I promise you I didn’t break your teacup.” 

“MURDER! You murderer-ed it!” Waltie shouted. Jaime pulled the four year old close. 

“No, I didn’t do that neither.” 

Waltie pointed at Billie as he wailed. 

“Then you did it!” 

“Nooo!! No, I wouldn’t do that! I promise! I knewed how much you loved the teacup.” 

“Did you do it on accident?” Jaime asked Billie. 

“No! I didn’t even know where it WAS! Waltie never shows me his stuff.” 

Jaime hummed and pondered. 

“Looks like we have an investigation on our hands, boys. Let’s go ask yer momma.” 

Jaime wiped Waltie’s cheeks and helped him blow his nose with some toilet paper. He hugged Waltie again. Waltie whimpered, but leaned into the hug. 

“Don’t you worry. We’ll find the culprit and I promise you we’ll get you a new teacup.” 

Waltie frowned. How long would that take? Even then, would justice truly be served on this now terrible evening? 

Jaime picked up Waltie and held him in a tight embrace. He headed downstairs to the living room where Waltie’s momma slept. 

“Hey, hey Aunt May? Aunt May?” Jaime reached out with his free hand and grabbed momma’s shoulder. He shaked it until momma’s eyes opened and she gasped. 

“What?! What on earth?!” She sat up and moved blonde curls away from her face. “What’s going on?!” 

“Did you happen to see a teacup in a drawer?” 

Momma curled her lip and thought about the question for a good minute. 

“No…? Why?” 

“Waltie had a teacup in a drawer, but somebody moved and broke it in the bathroom.” 

“They MURDERER-ED it!” Waltie corrected. Jaime slowly nodded.

“…We’re tryna find suspects for the crime scene.” 

Momma chortled at that, but Jaime didn’t join her laughter. 

“So, uh, did you do it?” He asked. 

“What? No! I don’t give a rat’s ass about no goddamn teacup.”

“Please don’t swear around Waltie.” 

“I can swear around my kid as much as I damn well want to. How dare you even accuse me of  breakin’ one of Waltie’s toys. You probably did it yourself and now yer tryna put the blame on me. That’s a cruel thing to do, boy.” 

Jaime sighed and rolled his eyes. 

“Did you see Uncle Rob with the teacup then? It could’ve been today or a coupla days ago.” 

“Nope. You know how he hardly comes home these days anyhow. If he had broken that toy—“ 

“Teacup.” Jaime interrupted. 

“Shut yer mouth, smart ass. If I had seen that, not only would I have told Waltie, but I would’ve bought him a much better one.” 

Jaime raised an eyebrow at that. 

“Right,” he said flatly. He adjusted Waltie and looked at the four year old. “Sorry, little dude.” 

Waltie frowned even more. He rested his head on Jaime’s shoulder. Not only was his teacup murdered, but the murderer refused to show their face. Coward! 

Perhaps then…yes! Perhaps it hadn’t been a person at all. 

Waltie raised his head. 

“Can we go to me and Billie’s room?” 

“Sure.” 

Back upstairs, Jaime gently placed Waltie on the carpeted floor. Waltie glared at the pile of toys around his room. He grabbed a Ken doll, a transformer, a squishy octopus, and a toy truck. He lined each of them in front of his cradle. 

He paced back and forth in front of the toys. 

“I know ONE of you murdered my teacup. Now, which one of you did it?!” Waltie leaned in close to Mr. Octopus. His scratched out eyes left one with a feeling of unease; still, the inanimate object wasn’t talking. “Jaime!” 

Jaime walked over to Waltie and sat. 

“Can you talk for Mr. Octopus? He’s not fessin!” 

Jaime chuckled and nodded. 

“Sure, Waltie,” Jaime picked up Mr. Octopus and spoke with a deep voice. “What do ya want, Waltie?!” 

“Did you murder my teacup?” 

“Are you accusing me of murder cause I’m an Octopus?! Is that what this is?!” 

“Yeah! Yeah, it is! Now fess up!” 

“Now listen here, just cause I’m an Octopus doesn’t mean I’m a murderer! I have a family I gotta feed! How can I feed them if I’m in jail?!”

Damn. Mr. Octopus made a good point. 

“Shoot,” Waltie looked at the other toys and pointed at the Ken doll. “Did YOU do it?!” 

Jaime put down Mr. Octopus and picked up the Ken doll. This time he spoke with an effeminate voice. 

“Now why, oh why, would I murder your teacup?” 

“Cause you have FANCY hair! Everybody knows that men with fancy hair like yers are murderers!” 

“Fancy hair?! But I just got my hair fixed up yesterday! I’ve been too busy trying to look nice for Barbie to worry about any old teacup!” 

“I bet Barbie helped you commit the crime!” 

Jaime feigned a gasp. 

“But she’s Barbie! She does just about everything! She would never murder a teacup! And neither would I!” 

Waltie pouted. He grabbed the Ken doll and separated him from the other toys. 

“I’m gonna put him on the maybe list. He’s still too ‘picious.”

He grabbed the transformer next and handed him to Jaime. 

“Yer a pretty strong toy, ain’t ya?” He asked the transformer. Jaime coughed and did his best to mimic the voice actor for the toy. 

“Yeah? What about it?” 

“Normally, I’d think yer pretty neat cause of how strong you are, but I’m startin to wonder if you murdered my teacup.” 

“….Maybe I did, maybe I didn’t. What’s it to you?” 

“It was MY teacup and I wasn’t going to drink tea out of it! Now, did you do it?!” 

Before Jaime could come up with an answer, there was a light knock on the door. Waltie turned to see his older brother standing in the doorway with his hands behind his back. He faced away from Waltie. 

“I gots something to tell you, Waltie…” Billie muttered. He exhaled and made eye contact with Waltie. “It was me. I murdered yer teacup.” 

Waltie gasped. Jaime crossed his arms and gave Billie a look of disapproval.

“I promise I didn’t mean to do it, honest! In fact, I was just tryna wash it for you, but then it slipped out of my hand.” 

Waltie stomped his foot. 

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?!” 

“I felt baaaaad! You were cryin’ and everythin’! I didn’t wanna make you feel worse.” 

“It would’ve been better if you told the truth, Billie.” said Jaime. 

“I know,” Billie groaned. “But I did find something to make it all better!” 

Billie pulled out a super glue gun from behind his back and smiled.

“We can super glue it back together again!” 

Jaime smiled and turned to Waltie. 

“Well, there you go, Waltie! Problem solved!” 

Billie walked up to his little brother. 

“You forgive me?” 

Waltie bit his lip and was silent. 

“…Yeeeeaaaah, I guess so.” 

Billie hugged him. 

“Thanks, lil dude.” 

Waltie leaned back and glared at Billie. 

“But don’t do it again!” 

For the remainder of the night, Jaime swept up the pieces of the teacup and instructed the boys on how to super glue a teacup back together again. He made sure they were careful in picking up the pieces and placing them back together. This was done much in the same way he had once taught them how to complete a puzzle. The once awful evening had become good again and Waltie was grateful that, unlike people, teacups could be reconstructed and brought back to life no matter how viciously murdered. It was nine at night when the job was done and Jaime helped Waltie go to bed. 

All in all, it had been a good day and, for Waltie, that was enough. Yeah, that was enough. 

The End.