“It’s probably just as well,” replied Stacey. But she was afraid Ashley would be bored.
It turned out that she didn’t have to worry. Ashley sat down a safe distance from the bank and assigned herself all sorts of jobs, like minnow-counter and storyteller. Later, she moved to a patch of clover and made clover jewelry for the whole group.
Meanwhile, Mary Anne was walking the babies. The arrangement in the stroller had lasted about two minutes. Then Beth wanted to get out and walk. At first that seemed like a good solution, but Beth wasn’t very steady on her feet yet and toddled along slowly, often losing her balance and sitting down on the sidewalk. After ten minutes, they had traveled about six feet.
Thanks to the wagons, Claudia and I were having somewhat better luck, even though every few seconds one of us would have to turn around and call out, “Keep your hands in the wagon!” or, “Don’t dangle your feet over the side!”
On the way to the library, we stopped at the Newtons’ house.
“Hi-hi!” Jamie shouted when he saw us.
We introduced him to the other kids—and then realized there was no room for him to sit down. Three kids in a wagon was already a tight squeeze.
“Hey,” said Claudia, “you know what we need? We need a wagon watcher. The wagon watcher walks beside the wagons. When he sees anybody sticking their hands and feet outside of the wagon, he gets to trade places with that person, and that person is the new wagon watcher.”
Claudia’s idea was great. None of the kids wanted to be caught by the wagon watcher, yet they all wanted a chance to be the wagon watcher (except for Maura, who was really too little to understand the game). So we rolled cheerfully to the library, stopping eight times to switch kids, and arrived exactly one minute before the start of story hour.
Now, while we were on our way to the library, and Mary Anne was inching along with the pink group, and Stacey was taking Luke, Ashley, and Emma to the brook, Dawn was walking the three bluebirds to the elementary school playground. This might seem like an easy job, and in fact it started out that way, but Karen Brewer always seems to make things more interesting than usual.
Tuesday was no exception.
“You know what?” she said as she, Dawn, David Michael, and Berk reached the end of our street.
“What?” asked David Michael warily. He had heard enough stories about witches and ghosts from Karen to be suspicious whenever she said, “You know what?”
“Yesterday when I got home, this big kid on my street said that at seven o’clock tonight, an army of Martians is going to attack the earth.”
“Martians?” yelped David Michael.
“Tonight?” cried Berk.
“That’s just a story, a joke,” Dawn told them.
“No, it’s true,” Karen insisted. “This was a big kid. He’s in eighth grade. He told me that a lot of people know about this, but they just don’t want to believe it. Only the ones who believe will be safe, because they’ll be able to hide in time.”
“Hide where?” asked Berk.
“Underground,” said Karen.
“In a hole?” said David Michael.
“I’m not sure,” replied Karen slowly. “The kid didn’t say.”
“Karen, you know this is all just silly stuff, don’t you?” asked Dawn.
“No,” said Karen firmly. “No way. This is not silly stuff.”
“There are no such things as Martians,” Dawn told Berk and David Michael.
David Michael looked like he wanted to believe her, but he said, “I’ve seen Martians on TV.”
Dawn noticed then that all three kids kept glancing up at the sky.
“Do you believe everything you see on TV?” asked Dawn. “Do you believe that Bugs Bunny and Mickey Mouse are real?”
“No,” said David Michael, “but there might be Martians.”
“Yeah,” agreed Berk. “There might be Martians.”
“There are no Martians,” Dawn repeated, exasperated.
“Are too,” said David Michael, Karen, and Berk at the same time.
“I wonder what will happen,” my brother went on quietly.
“You wonder what will happen when?” Dawn asked him.
“When they land.”
Dawn threw her hands in the air. There was no point in arguing.
“They’re going to fight us,” Karen said fiercely.
“Martians have ray guns,” Berk added. “Ray guns and spray guns.”
“Spray guns?” repeated David Michael, alarmed.
“Yeah. They spray stuff on you so you can’t move. Then they just pick you up and put you in their flying saucer and speed you away to Mars.”
“Are they coming in flying saucers tonight, Karen?” asked David Michael.
“Hundreds of ‘em,” Karen answered. “All shiny and silvery.”
David Michael searched the sky so long that he tripped and fell on his knees. “I thought I saw one!” he said breathlessly as he stood up. “Now it’s gone.”
They had almost reached the playground. Dawn tried to distract her group. “Hey, look at this!” she said, pointing to a poster that was tacked to the fence surrounding the schoolyard. “‘Arts and crafts today. Puppet-making contest.’ A contest, you guys! Wouldn’t you like to enter? I wonder what the prize is…. You guys?”
“Huh?” The three bluebirds were looking at the sky.
“I wonder if you could hide in your basement,” David Michael whispered. “That’s underground.”
“Can I stay at your house tonight?” Berk asked my brother. “I don’t know if the motel has a basement.”
“Berk!” Dawn cried. “David Michael! Karen! Enough!” She thought about telling them they weren’t allowed to discuss Martians anymore but decided that was too mean.
She led them through the gate and into the playground.
A handful of children were playing on the swings and seesaws and monkey bars. A big group was seated around a table that was covered with paints, scraps of felt, glue, scissors, buttons, and all sorts of trimmings.
“How about making puppets?” Dawn suggested desperately. “Let’s at least find out what the prize is.”
The three kids looked at each other. Karen leaned over and whispered something to David Michael and Berk.
“Hey, no secrets!” said Dawn. Karen finished whispering and the boys nodded their heads.
“We’d rather swing,” said Karen.
“All right,” Dawn agreed uncertainly. “You go ahead. I’m going to see about the contest.”
Dawn found the playground counselor at the arts and crafts table. She asked her about the contest and about what other activities were coming up. She thought Stacey might want to bring Emma, Luke, and Ashley to the playground later in the week.
Their conversation was interrupted by an ear-piercing shriek. Dawn whirled around, afraid one of the bluebirds was hurt. Instead, a little girl came tearing across the playground and threw herself at the counselor.
“Fran! Fran!” she cried.
“Tina, what’s wrong?” The counselor picked Tina up and gave her a hug.
“Martians!” Tina managed to sob. Uh-oh, thought Dawn.
“Martians!” exclaimed Fran. “What do you mean, honey?”
“They’re coming! Tonight! They’re going to take us away!”
That was all Dawn needed to hear. She turned around and marched across the schoolyard. Karen and my brother and cousin were at the swings, all right, but they weren’t swinging. They were surrounded by an awed bunch of kids.
Dawn reached them in time to hear Karen saying, “… hide underground.”
“Like in your basement,” David Michael added.
The other children were looking at them with fear in their eyes. One boy was wiping tears away. Suddenly, he turned and ran.
“Where are you going?” another boy shouted after him.
“Home!”
“I’m coming with you!”
“Me, too!” chorused the others. The
entire group fled toward the gate to the playground. “Karen Brewer …” Dawn warned.
Karen looked up guiltily. “Yeah?”
“I do not want you scaring the other kids with that story.”
“But we have to warn them. They have to be ready for the attack.” Karen was quite serious about that.
“Right,” said Berk and David Michael.
“Wrong,” said Dawn. “Now come over to the arts and crafts table and forget about the Martians.”
Dawn settled her charges with Fran and the other kids. They began to work busily. She was helping Berk put a nose on his puppet when she heard a crashing noise behind her. She looked around and saw a branch falling from a tree nearby.
“Martians!” Karen screamed. “Aughh!” shrieked David Michael and Berk. “I want my mommy!” cried Tina. “Martians?” asked several children. “Coming to get us!” Karen told them. “They’re going to attack! They’re here already! We have to hide!”
Every single child at the art table scrambled out of his or her seat and rushed for cover. Fran turned to Dawn, looking slightly cross. “I’m sorry,” Dawn said quickly. “I don’t know what got into her. I’ll take her home as soon as I help you find the kids.”
“That’s all right,” said Fran. “Another counselor will be here in about ten minutes. He can help me. Please take her home now, okay?”
“Okay.” Dawn paused, then added, “I really am sorry.”
Fran nodded.
“Karen Brewer!” Dawn called. “Berk! David Michael. I want you three to come out right this minute. Do you hear me?”
Nothing.
“There are no Martians,” Dawn added. “Just me. And I’m getting mad.”
The blue group crawled sheepishly out of a storage shed.
“Come on,” said Dawn. “We have to leave.” She wondered if she should tell Karen to apologize to Fran, but Fran looked busy and annoyed. Dawn hustled the three kids away.
As they walked home, she gave them a talk about telling stories and scaring children, and Karen became grave and concerned. She promised not to mention the Martians again. David Michael and Berk promised, too.
The bluebirds were the first group to return to my house that day, even beating Mary Anne and the babies. They were on their best behavior all afternoon, and Tuesday passed quickly.
Late that night, after my lights were out and I was in bed, something occurred to me. Wedding presents were starting to arrive at our house. The wedding was then just about three days away. I would have to get a present for Mom and Watson, but what? What do you get for your mother and a millionaire? They already had everything they needed and could buy anything they wanted.
I lay awake thinking. My present had to be just right.
Wedding Countdown:
Wednesday—three days to go
Wednesday, June 24th
This is a confession, you guys. I know you think I’m so sophisticated, since I’m from New York and my hair is styled and everything, but no kidding, my favorite movie is Mary Poppins. I’ve seen it 65 times. (That’s because we bought the movie so that I could watch it whenever I want, and I watch it at least once a week.) I know it by heart. Anyway, when I saw that it was going to be at the Embassy Theater for a “special engagement,” I decided I had to have another chance to see it on a big screen. That’s one reason I was so determined to take the red group to it. Besides, since it’s my favorite movie, I was sure Luke, Emma, and Ashley would love it, too. Believe me, if I’d had a crystal ball to see into the future, I would never have taken them.
Stacey didn’t mention it in her notebook entry, but one o’clock on Wednesday marked the halfway point of the Baby-sitters Club’s adventure taking care of fourteen children. Two and a half days were behind us. Two and a half days were ahead of us.
Of course, we’d had our share of problems.
There was Dawn’s experience at the playground, for instance. “I keep thinking of all those scared children,” she said. “Especially the ones who ran home. I hope they found mommies or daddies or big brothers or sisters who told them not to worry. And Karen can’t ever show up at that playground again, at least not as long as Fran is the counselor.”
Then there was the problem with bathrooms. We have three: one downstairs and two upstairs. One of the upstairs ones is Mom’s and off-limits, which left two bathrooms for nineteen people, two of whom were in diapers and needed to be changed a lot, and one of whom (Maura) had only recently been potty trained.
It seemed as if somebody always had to use the bathroom. Since the little kids were more urgent about it (“Kristy, Kristy! I have to go now!”), we decided that the yellow group, green group, and pink group would use the downstairs bathroom, which was nearer; and the five baby-sitters, the red group, and the blue group would use the upstairs bathroom. We stuck a yellow sun, a green dinosaur, and a pink heart on the door of the first-floor bathroom, and a red star and a bluebird on the door of the second-floor bathroom as reminders. But there were always mix-ups.
“Kristy, which bathroom do I use?” David Michael asked me as I was rummaging through the refrigerator, getting the lunches out on Wednesday.
“What group are you in?”
“I don’t know.”
“Well, look at your nametag,” I told him. “I lost it.”
“You’re a bluebird. Go upstairs.”
“I was just up there. Somebody’s in it.”
“Then wait.”
“I can’t.”
“Then go downstairs.”
“Someone’s in there, too.”
“David Michael, you’re going to have to wait, or else go across the street and ask Mimi to let you use the Kishis’ bathroom.”
“No way!”
At that moment, Luke and Andrew walked out of the house and into the backyard.
“I think the bathrooms are free,” I said.
“Which one do I use?”
I groaned. “It doesn’t matter. Just go.”
The kids had almost as much trouble keeping their groups straight. The baby-sitters knew who their charges were, but even with the nametags, the kids were never sure. If Stacey, for instance, called for the red group, eight children would run to her.
But none of that mattered much. As long as we could be outside, we were fine. The kids were having fun.
Wednesday afternoon was the special showing of Mary Poppins. Stacey had known about it for several days, and on Tuesday she asked my aunts and uncles for permission to take the red group to the Embassy and for money to buy tickets.
The Embassy was all the way downtown, but Nannie was going to take me shoe shopping that afternoon (while Mary Anne watched the nappers again), so she planned to drop Stacey and the red group at the theater on our way to the mall and pick them up on our way back.
The Pink Clinker was loaded down as Nannie pulled out of the driveway. “I’ll drive very slowly,” she told Ashley, who was sitting next to her in the front seat. “I don’t want to jar your leg.”
“I hope she doesn’t drive too slowly,” Stacey whispered to me. “I don’t want to miss the beginning.”
Nannie did creep along, but we reached the theater in plenty of time for the show.
Luke and Emma hopped out of the car, while Stacey helped Ashley out.
“Good-bye!” Nannie called as the Pink Clinker roared to life. “Have fun! I’ll be back in two hours.”
Stacey led the three kids to the ticket window. “Now, do you all have your money?” she asked.
“Yup,” said Luke. “Yup,” said Ashley. “Nope,” said Emma.
“Nope?” Stacey repeated. “Emma, where is it? I told you three kids to make sure you brought your money.”
“I did bring it,” Emma whined.
“Mine’s in my pocket,” said Luke.
“Mine’s in my knapsack,” said Ashley.
Emma looked blank. “I don’t know where mine is.”
“I’d pay for you,” Stacey told her, “but I’ve on
ly got about a dollar extra. Emma, think. What did you do with your money?”
“I don’t kno-ow.” (She was a good whiner. Very good.)
“Do want me to call Kristy’s house and see if you left it there by mistake? Maybe Claudia’s grandmother could drive it over here,” she said uncertainly.
“All right,” agreed Emma, scuffing the toe of her sneaker along the sidewalk.
“Stacey, I’m going to sit down on that bench,” said Ashley.
“Okay. This’ll only take a sec. I hope.” Stacey fished some change out of the pocket of her overalls and called my house.
Mary Anne answered the phone.
Stacey could hear crying in the background. “What’s going on?” she asked.
“The phone woke the babies.”
“Oops.”
“What’s up? I thought you were at the movies.”
“We’re almost there. Emma can’t find her money. She thinks she might have left it at Kristy’s…. Would you mind looking?”
“Well, no. Let me just quiet Tony and Beth down. Then I’ll look around. Hold on.”
Mary Anne looked so long that Stacey’s money ran out and the pay phone clicked off.
“Darn!” exclaimed Stacey. She didn’t have much change left. She put more coins in the slot and called back.
The line was busy. It was still off the hook.
Stacey was growing impatient. The movie would start in five minutes. She tried again.
“Stacey?” said Mary Anne. “Where were you?”
“We got cut off. Did you find the money?”
“No, and I looked everywhere. Dawn and Claudia looked, too.”
“Oh, brother. This is great, just great.”
Emma was tugging on Stacey’s sleeve.
“Stacey?” she asked.
“Just a minute,” Stacey told her.
“Stacey, it’s important.”
“Not now, Emma.”
“But, Stacey, I found my money.”
Stacey looked at Emma, who was holding her money out triumphantly. “Mary Anne?” she said. “Never mind. We found it.”
Stacey thanked Mary Anne and hung up. “Where was it?” she asked Emma.
“In my shoe.”
Stacey shook her head. “Well, hurry up, you guys. The movie’s starting.”