Ann Martin - The Truth About Stacey

After supper that night, I got the Kid-Kit and a flashlight and took the shortcut through ourneighbors ' back yards to theJohanssens '. Dr.Johanssen met me at the front door.

"Hi, Stacey," she said. "I'm glad you could come." She closed the door behind me and took my coat. Then she glanced over her shoulder at Charlotte who was doing her homework at the kitchen table. Dr.Johanssen lowered her voice. "Charlottehas been in a funny mood lately," she told me. "Veryquiet, and slightly listless. She says she feels fine, so something's going on that she's not talking about. I have a feeling it's school-related, and I've arranged a conference with her teacher. I just wanted you to know so that you won't worry if she seems out of sorts tonight."

"Okay," I replied.

"Mr.Johanssen is working late tonight,"

Charlotte's mother continued, "andI have a PTA meeting. We'll both be back before nine."

"All right.... Dr.Johanssen , when you come home, could I talk to you? We're leaving forNew York on Saturday, and I have an idea."

"Certainly, hon.There's something I wanted to tell you, anyway." Dr.Johanssen headed into the kitchen. "Well, sweetie," she said toCharlotte , "I won't be late. Finish your homework, and then you can have fun with Stacey until Daddy and I get home. . . . Okay?"

Charlottenodded.

" 'Bye, honey."

" 'Bye."Charlotte barely looked up.

I sat down next to her as her mother left the house."Gosh, homework in second grade. That's pretty important. I didn't have homework in second grade."

"It's just two dumb worksheets," saidCharlotte .

"Do you need any help with them?"

She shook her head. "They're easy. It's dumb, dumb homework."

"Well, if it's easy, it won't take you long to finish, right?"

"What do you care?"

"Charlotte!" I exclaimed. "Why are youtalk-

ingto me like that? If you're mad, you better tell me what I did wrong, because I'm not amindreader ."

Charlotteslouched over her worksheets. "I'm not mad."

"Well, you sound mad." I felt as if I were having a fight withLaine Cummings. "I only wanted to know, because when you finish, we can read some of The Cricket inTimes Square ."

"Oh, sure," she said sarcastically.

"Charlotte, what is the matter with you? Your mother said you wanted me to sit for you."

"I wanted you to come over. I didn't want you to baby-sit."

"I don't think I understand."

"Stacey, how come you baby-sit for me?"

"Because I like to," I replied. "You're one of myfavorite kids."

Charlottesmiled vaguely. Then she asked, "Why do you really sit?"

"Because I like kids.And when I moved here, I wanted to meet people."

"What about the money?"

Money?What had madeCharlotte think about that? "Well, of course the money's nice. I like to earn money."

"I thought so."

"But I like you, too. I wouldn't baby-sit for

justanybody. And I'll tell you something. If your mom and dad called me and said, 'We need you to sit forCharlotte tonight, but we're broke and we can't pay you/ I'd come anyway."

"You would?"

"Yes. I told you I like you."

"Some baby-sitters only sit because they want money. They don't care about the kids."

"Which baby-sitters?"I asked.

"Mmnns," mumbledCharlotte .

"What?"

"My new ones," she said quietly.

"Who are your new ones?"

"Michelle Patterson, Leslie somebody, and Cathy Morris."

"They all told you that?"

"No. Ellie Morris told me."

"Who's Ellie Morris?"

"Cathy's sister. She's in my class. She hates me."

Aha, I thought.

Charlottelooked at me sadly. "Ellie said, 'Oh,Charlotte , you are the teacher's pet, teacher's pet,' and I said, 'I am not,' and she said, 'Are, too, and you don't have any friends/ And I said, 1 have baby-sitters. They're my friends/And she said, They are not. My sister Cathy doesn't like you.' And I said, 'Then how

comeshe sits for me?' And she said, 'Because your parents pay her a lot of money, stupid.' "

I was beginning to put the pieces together.Charlotte didn't have friends her own age; that much I knew. Apparently, she thought her baby-sitters were her friends, though. Then Ellie had burst her bubble. YetCharlotte had been asking for me. If I had come over just to visit (not to baby-sit), it would have proved I truly was a friend. No wonder she was upset.

"Hey, Char," I said, "rememberwhen we gave Jamie Newton the Big Brother Party? I invited you. I wasn't baby-sitting for you then."

"Yeah . . ." saidCharlotte slowly.

"Also, what do Michelle and Leslie and Cathy do when they baby-sit for you?"

"Watch TV. Talk on the phone.Once Leslie brought her boyfriend over." I raised my eyebrows. "Cathy always does her homework, but she won't help me with mine. She says, Tm busy now.' "

"What do I do when I baby-sit?"

"Well, you bring the Kid-Kit. We read stories and take walks and play games."

"That's being a friend, isn't it?" I asked.

SuddenlyCharlotte gave me a fierce hug. "Yes," she said, "I'm sorry I was cross."

"That's all right." I made a mental note to helpCharlotte make some friends — some seven-

year-oldfriends — in theneighborhood . One of the Pikes was seven, I thought. Then I told her what I had told Jamie that afternoon — that if she didn't like her new sitters, she should talk to her parents. In particular, she should mention that Leslie had invited her boyfriend over.

By the time Dr.Johanssen returned,Charlotte seemed like her old self.

AndCharlotte 's mother was very helpful. "It's funny," she said when I asked about a doctor. "You know what I was going to tell you? I was going to tell you about this very sensible doctor inNew York . I guess we were thinking along the same lines."

I asked about the doctor's office and whether he had a lot of diplomas. He seemed to fit the bill. "Do you think I could get an appointment with him on Saturday afternoon?" I asked. "That's just three days away."

"I'll pull a few strings," said Dr.Johanssen . "And I better explain things to your parents."

"Oh, no.Please don't!" I cried. "It has to be a surprise. Otherwise it'll never work."

"Well, how about if I write a note to your parents? You can give it to them over the weekend — before you see the doctor."

"All right," I said at last. That wasn't quite what I had planned on, but I was willing to

compromise. I didn't want Dr.Johanssen to get in any trouble. "That's great," I said, and thanked her.

I ran home feeling excited.

My plan was underway.

Chapter 12.

I read what Mary Anne wrote in our notebook about battles and wars, and I think she was being overly dramatic. However, she was

right— it was good that we held that meeting. It started us thinking about some important things.

Finding a place to hold the meeting turned out to be a problem. Kristy acted as if the school were bugged or something.

"How about at a separate table in the cafeteria?"Claudia suggested.

"Are you kidding? Never!" said Kristy. "Someone's sure to overhear us."

"Is there an empty classroom we could sit in?" asked Mary Anne.

Kristy rejected the idea. "It's too easy for someone to stand outside the door and eavesdrop."

"I guess the girls' room would— "

"No way.You just hide in one of the stalls and stand on the toilet. No one knows you're there. You could hear everything."

"Well, what about the playground?" I said. "We'll go off by ourselves, but we'll stand out in the open. That way no one can sneak up on us, and we can move away if anyone comes too close."

That was what we decided to do. We ate lunch quickly and gathered on the playground. Since no one was using the baseball diamond, we stood in the middle of it. It had snowed

thenight before and there were about three inches covering the ground. My feet were blocks of ice before we even started talking. (InNew York City , three inches of snow wouldn't bother to stick. The flakes would melt as soon as they touched the pavement.)