Ann Martin - The Ghost At Dawn's House

She felt funny ringing the doorbell and not going right on inside like she used to do. Instead, she had to stand and wait. She heard a dog barking and feet running — not as many feet as when the Thomases lived there, but several pairs.

When the door was opened, two blonde-haired, brown-eyed faces were peering up at her. Behind them was a woman who was struggling to hold back a huge black dog.

There were a couple of moments of confusion.

"Chewy! Behave!" said the woman.

"That's Chewbacca, our dog," said the older of the two girls. "He's eight months old."

"I'm wearing Myriah's baldet shoes," announced the younger one, holding up her foot

to show Mary Anne a pink ballet slipper.

Chewy struggled out of Mrs. Perkins' grip, lunged for the door, and jumped up, resting his front feet on the screen and grinning a happy doggie grin. In the process, he knocked the littler girl to the floor. She giggled and stood up unsteadily.

"Baldet shoes are slippery," she said.

Mrs. Perkins got Chewy under control and let him out in the backyard. Myriah let Mary Anne in.

"Well, you're Mary Anne, right?" said Mrs. Perkins as she returned.

Mary Anne nodded.

"I'm Mrs. Perkins," she went on. "And this is Myriah," (the older one), "and Gabbie." (The one wearing the "baldet" slippers.) "Girls, this is Mary Anne Spier."

Myriah smiled shyly at Mary Anne.

Gabbie smiled, too. "Hi, Mary Anne Spier," she said, and I remembered that Kristy had said Gabbie called her by her full name.

"I'm going to the doctor for a check-up," Mrs. Perkins told Mary Anne. "I have to run some errands, too. I should be back in about two hours. There are no special instructions, really. The girls will show you their playroom. And you can go outside, if you want." (The

rain had miraculously stopped.) "Oh, one thing — leave Chewy in the yard. If you take a walk, don't try to bring him with you. He's a bit of a handful."

"He'd take MS on a walk, instead!" said Myriah.

After Mrs. Perkins left, Mary Anne and the girls looked at each other. Sometimes a first baby-sitting job can be a little awkward, especially if you're on the shy side, like Mary Anne is.

But Myriah got things going. "Want to see our rooms?" she asked.

"Sure," replied Mary Anne.

"I have a doll," said Gabbie, skipping ahead.

"It's not really her doll," Myriah whispered confidentially to Mary Anne as they climbed the stairs. "It's mine, but I let her use it."

Mary Anne smiled.

"This is my room," said Myriah a few moments later. And Mary Anne found herself looking sadly around Kristy's old room. In place of her sports posters were animal pictures and a poster of a ballerina. In place of her desk was a dollhouse. It wasn't the same at all.

"Hey, let's go downstairs again," said Mary Anne huskily. "I want to see your playroom."

Gabbie turned and raced downstairs.

Myriah and Mary Anne followed. When they reached the playroom, Gabble was already there, rocking an old Cabbage Patch Doll in her arms. "This is Cindy Jane, Mary Anne Spier," she said.

"Her name is really Caroline Eunice," Myriah whispered. "Oh! There's R. C!" she exclaimed suddenly.

A brown tiger cat sauntered into the room.

"R. C. stands for Rat Catcher," Myriah announced, "but he doesn't catch anything. He's too, too lazy. Aren't you, R. C.?"

"Aren't you, R. C.?" echoed Gabbie absent-mindedly, as R. C. flopped over on his side and fell asleep.

"Now don't say everything I say," Myriah admonished her sister. Once again she whispered to Mary Anne. "The Gabbers is going through a stage."

"The Gabbers?" said Mary Anne.

"Yeah. That's what Mom and Dad and I call her."

Gabbie tossed Cindy Jane/Caroline Eunice to the floor. "Let's color!" she said.

"Yeah!" agreed Myriah. "Let's color. You want to color, too, Mary Anne?"

"Color with us, Mary Anne Spier," said Gabbie.

Myriah and Gabble settled themselves at a pink and white table with pictures of Barbie dolls all over it.

"We always color at our Barbie table/' said Myriah.

Mary Anne squeezed into a little pink chair. She had to sit sideways at the table, since her knees wouldn't fit underneath it.

Myriah tore three pieces of paper off a pad of newsprint and passed them out. She set a box of crayons in the middle. "Now color, you guys," she said.

The three of them (even Mary Anne) got right to work. Both of the little girls sang to themselves as they colored. Myriah sang "Take Me Out to the Ball Game." Gabbie sang "Hush, Little Baby." Mary Anne raised her eyebrows. How had they memorized all the verses to those songs? Even Mary Anne didn't know them.

After a few minutes, Gabbie handed her picture to Mary Anne. It was a huge, jumbled scribble. "Look, Mary Anne Spier," she said.

"That's lovely!" Mary Anne exclaimed. She was about to ask, "What is it?" when she remembered something we Baby-sitters Club members had thought up. Instead of saying "What is it?" when we can't tell what a picture

or an art project is, we say, "Tell me about it." That way, the kid doesn't know we can't tell, so his feelings aren't hurt, and he tells us what the picture is so we don't say anything dumb about it, like "I've never seen such a big elephant," when it turns out to be a picture of the kid's grandmother or something.

"Tell me about it," Mary Anne said to Gab-bie.

"Okay. This is my mommy," said Gabbie, pointing, "and this is the baby growing in her tummy."

Once again, Mary Anne raised her eyebrows. She almost raised them right off her forehead. "The baby in her tummy?" she repeated. She glanced at Myriah.

"Yeah, we're having a baby," said Myriah nonchalantly. "Not for a long time, though. I hope I get a brother. We have enough girls around here. ... R. C. is a girl," she added. "The only boys are Daddy and Chewy."

"Wow! That's exciting!" cried Mary Anne. Actually, she felt even more excited than she sounded, but she knows how sensitive little kids are about new babies. She didn't want Myriah and Gabbie to think that they weren't important, too.

Mary Anne wanted to ask a lot more ques-

tions, but she didn't dare. She also wanted to call the rest of us baby-sitters with the exciting news, but she didn't dare do that, either. She knew she'd have to wait.

"Do you two want to take a walk?" Mary Anne asked Myriah and Gabbie. "It's so pretty out. And yesterday was such an awful, rainy day. I'd like to go out."

"Okay," agreed the girls.

"Hey," said Mary Anne suddenly. "Do you know any other kids around here yet?"

"We know Kristy Thomas," said Myriah.

"Kristy Thomas," echoed Gabbie.

"Well," said Mary Anne, "I meant kids your age. Have you met Jamie Newton?"

"No," said Myriah.

"Or Nina and Eleanor Marshall?"

"No."

"Well, maybe you'd like to meet them. It would be fun to have friends around here, wouldn't it?"

"Sure," said Myriah.

"Sure," said Gabbie.

"And guess what — Jamie Newton has a baby, just like you're going to have. Only she's not a newborn baby anymore. Her name is Lucy. Do you want to see her?"

"Yup," said Myriah.

"Yup," said Gabble.

So Mary Anne walked the girls around the neighborhood. By the time Mrs. Perkins came home, Myriah and Gabbie had met Nina and Eleanor, Charlotte Johanssen, Mr. and Mrs. Goldman, Claudia's grandmother Mimi, and Jamie and Lucy Newton.

"Jamie has a new baby, just like we're going to have!" Myriah told her mother.

Mrs. Perkins glanced at Mary Anne.

"The news sort of slipped out," said Mary Anne. "I hope you don't mind." She showed Mrs. Perkins Gabbie's picture.

"I don't mind at all," said Mrs. Perkins with a smile. "I guess I just hadn't gotten around to mentioning it. But it's no secret." She paid Mary Anne and walked her to the front door.