Ann Martin - The Truth About Stacey

That didn't sound so bad. In fact, I managed to enjoy our day. It even snowed a little. It was late the next day, when Mom and Dad told me the real reason for not going toNewYork, that I got angry at them.

They had taken me to Washington Mall, which is about half an hour away fromSto-neybrook . For some reason, the day after Thanksgiving is the biggest Christmas shopping day of the season. I don't know why. But I love to shop, so I thought the excursion would be fun, and would help take my mind off the Baby-sitters Agency. Kristy had told me all about Washington Mall. It's the biggest one around, with five levels of stores, a zillionrestaurants and food stands, four movietheaters , a videogame arcade, a petting zoo, and an exhibits area.

I had taken some of the money I'd earned baby-sitting out of my savings account, and I

leftMom and Dad to explore the mall on my own. I bought two Christmas presents — a pair of striped leg warmers for Claudia, and a book aboutNew York for Mary Anne — and a dinosaur pin for me. I planned to attach it to my beret.

Atone o'clock I met Mom and Dad and we ate lunch in a sandwich shop. After lunch we went to a movie. Two hours later, as we filed back into the mall, Dad said brightly, "Well, how about one more treat before we head home? We could go to that little French cafe on the top level."

"Ooh, goody," I said.

When we were settled, Dad with a cup of coffee, Mom with a glass of wine, and I with diet ginger ale, Dad glanced at Mom, and said, "Now, honey?"

"What?" I asked, immediately suspicious.

"We have some news for you."

"What is it?"

Mom and Dad kept looking at each other as if they couldn't decide who should tell me the news. I knew it must be pretty important. Furthermore, I had a feeling that whatever it was, I wasn't going to like it one bit.

"We aren't moving again, are we?" I asked.

"Heavens, no," said Mom. "If s not bad news . . . exactly."

"You're pregnant!" I cried. "You found out you can have a baby after all!"

"Shh!" said Dad. "People are turning around."

"Well, what?"

Mom cleared her throat. "It's just that we've scheduled the tests with the new doctor I mentioned to you a couple of weeks ago, remember?"

"How could I forget?"

"Stacey," said Dad warningly, his voice rising on the last syllable.

"Sorry."

"They're going to be a little later in the month than we had thought."

"Near Christmas!"I asked, dismayed.

"We'll leave on Friday, the twelfth, and probably return on Wednesday, the seventeenth."

"But —but that's five days!" I sputtered. "You said it would only be three days."

"Well, you'll still miss just three days of school," said my father. "When we found out the tests would take longer than we realized, we scheduled them over a weekend. That's why we didn't go toNew York for Thanksgiving. Two long weekends there so close together are too many."

"Am I going to be in the hospital for five days?" Being in the hospital when you feel

finehas to be the most boring thing in the world.

"You'll spend a lot of time at this doctor's clinic," replied Mom, "but you'll be an outpatient. . . . Look, in the evenings we can have fun. And we'll have Sunday free. We can visit your cousins and go Christmas shopping— "

"And," said Dad, grinning, "I got tickets to the Sunday performance of Paris Magic."

"ParisMagic!"I cried, momentarily forgetting doctors and clinics. "You're kidding! I can't believe it! Oh, thank you!" Paris Magic was a musical I'd been dying to see.

"And we'll go toRockefellerCenter and look at the Christmas tree," Mom went on. "Think of it, Stacey.Christmas inNew York. You always liked the city best at that season."

"I guess," I replied, returning to earth. Tickets to Paris Magic didn't make up for what Mom and Dad were doing to me. "So what does Dr. Werner think of ... what's the name of the new doctor?"

"Dr. Barnes," said Dad.

"What does Dr. Werner think of Dr. Barnes?"

"She doesn't know about Dr. Barnes yet," replied my mother.

"Mo-ora.I'd like to check with Dr. Werner first."

"Stacey," said Dad. "You are not in charge

here. Your mother and I make the decisions."

"Decisions about me, my body."

"That's what parents are for," he said wryly.

"So what's so special about Dr. Barnes?" I asked. "Why do we have to see him ... or her?"

"Him," said Mom. "He's a holistic doctor."

Holistic.. . holy?"A faith healer?" I squeaked. "You're taking me to a religious person for a miracle?" Mom and Dad had considered some pretty desperate things over the months, but nothing like faith healing.

"Stacey, for pity's sake.No," said Dad. "Calm down. Holistic medicine deals with the whole body, with a person as a whole, made up not just of physical parts, but of mental, emotional, environmental, nutritional— "

"I get it, I get it," I muttered, embarrassed.

Dad drained his coffee, mom sipped her wine, and I stirred my soda with the straw.

"Well," said Dad at last, "we just wanted you to know what to expect. And to keep those days open for our trip."

"What about my school work?" I asked.

"We'll talk to your teachers before we leave. Maybe you can bring some of your homework with you and do it at the clinic," said Mom. "Then you won't be too far behind when we return."

I nodded. "I think this is very unfair," I said softly.

My parents sighed in unison. "Well, we're sorry, honey," replied Mom. "But this is the way things are."

On Saturday afternoon, I baby-sat for CharlotteJohanssen . It was my first job in over a week. I knew that her parents were using the agency in the evenings because then they didn't have to worry about being home early. I hadn't seenCharlotte since the Big Brother Party. I brought the Kid-Kit with me as I had promised, and we began reading The Cricket inTimes Square .

When theJohanssens came home, I waited until Dr.Johansseni had paid me before I finally asked, "Could I talk to you? Please?"

"Of course, Stacey,"Charlotte 's mother replied. "Let's go in the den."

We walked across the hall and Dr.Johanssen closed the door behind us. "What's up? Are you feeling all right?" she asked.

"That's just the trouble. I'm fine. But Mom and Dad want me to see another new doctor inNew York . He's going to do all these tests at his clinic. We have to go away for five days."

Dr.Johanssen shook her head in sympathy.

"He's a holistic doctor. Dad explained what

thatmeans." I giggled. "I thought it meant he was holy — a faith healer."

Charlotte's mother didn't smile, though. She looked at me sharply. "Holistic.A clinic? Do you know the doctor's name?"

"Dr. Barnes."

Dr.Johanssen groaned. "You weren't too far wrong, Stacey. Dr. Barnes calls himself a holistic doctor but he practically is a faith healer. At any rate, I don't think he's much more than a quack. He just happens to be getting a lot of publicity now. He's a fad doctor. And he's giving good holistic doctors a bad reputation. I don't know him personally," she added, "I've just heard about him."

"I knew it, I knew it," I moaned.

"Now don't worry. Dr. Barnes isn't going to harm you, from what I've heard. He won't touch your insulin, and if he changes your diet, it will be only slightly. What he is going to do — I can practically guarantee this — is recommend all sorts of expensive programs and therapies designed to make your life as positive and fulfilling and healthy as possible. He'll tell your parents that this will enable you to rid your body of the disease."

"What kinds of therapies?" I asked.

"Oh, everything.He'll tell your parents to send you to a psychologist or psychiatrist.

He'll give you an exercise program, start you on recreational therapy. He may even recommend that you change schools so you can get individualized instruction."