Ann Martin - Stacey And The Mystery Of Stoneybrook

I was bursting with all the things I'd done on the weekend. I couldn't wait to tell everyone about how I'd spotted Gary Rockman, but Mallory grabbed their attention first.

"Did you guys see that old house at the end of Elm Street? They're tearing it down!"

That was my street. She must mean the other end, though, away from Claudia's house. There weren't all that many really old houses down at this end. But what was the big deal about a house being torn down? I started to say something about Gary Rockman, but Claud interrupted me.

"You're kidding! They're demolishing that

old place? I thought it was some kind of historical landmark. I thought they couldn't tear it down."

"I heard that some company wants to build condos there and got around that rule somehow," chimed in Mary Anne. "That house is the only one still standing in that whole area, and they're not about to let it get in their way."

I couldn't believe how fascinated everyone was with the "news" about some dumb old house. I guess that's what happens when you live in Stoneybrook all your life. Anything seems exciting.

"Order," said Kristy just then, making all of us jump. I looked at the clock. Sure enough. Five-thirty had just clicked into place. Kristy sat, as usual/in the director's chair. She wore her visor (I guess it makes her feel presidential), and she had a pencil stuck over her ear.

Kristy does a great job as president of the club, I must say. Dawn's always kind of wishing that Kristy would miss a meeting sometime — then, as alternate officer, Dawn would get to be president-for-a-day. But it's never happened yet. It's hard to imagine Kristy missing a meeting, and it's even harder to imagine anyone else as president.

"Has everyone read the club notebook?" Kristy asked. We all groaned.

"I thought you promised not to ask us that anymore," said Claud. "I thought you were going to have some trust in your best friends!"

The dub notebook is kind of like a diary of the jobs we've been on. We're all supposed to write in it after every job and read it once a week or so. It's not really a bad idea — often it's pretty interesting to read and lots of times there's information in it that's helpful to us. But there's something about that notebook. . . . Sometimes it's almost like homework — and Kristy's the teacher.

Anyway, we all said we'd read it. It's a habit by now.

"M&M's?" offered Claud, passing them around. Everyone except for Dawn and me shook out a few. I'm really glad Dawn's a health-food freak because then I'm not the only one always turning down Claud's treats.

"Oh, sorry, Stace — sorry, Dawn. Here, let me find . . ." Claud rummaged around in a box under her bed markedcharcaols. (I told you she hates to study. She's an awful speller.) She came up with a box of whole wheat crackers and tossed it to me. I caught it but handed it right over to Dawn without even opening it. Dawn gave me a curious look, which I pretended not to notice. I didn't really want to call any attention to the fact that my diabetes

seemed harder than ever to control.

"Ahem," said Kristy. "Are we all settled? May we proceed with the business at hand?"

Where'd she learn to talk like that? We all looked at each other and started to giggle. Kristy looked a little ticked off at first, but then she cracked up, too.

Just then, the phone rang. The first call! Kristy grabbed the phone. "Baby-sitters Club. Can I help you?" She listened for a moment.

"No problem, Mrs. Newton. We'll get right back to you." Kristy hung up and turned to Mary Anne. "How does the schedule look for tomorrow afternoon?" she asked. "Mrs. Newton needs someone to watch Jamie while she takes Lucy to the pediatrician for a checkup."

I'd have liked the job — Jamie's a great kid, and we all like to sit for him — but Mary Anne looked in the record book and reminded me that I already had a job, sitting at the Pikes' with Mallory. (The Pikes are always a two-sitter job.)

"And Jessi has ballet, and Dawn is staying late at school tomorrow, and Claud, you have art class. That leaves you and me, Kristy," Mary Anne continued. She's incredible, the way she keeps the record book up-to-date with all of our activities. Not only that, she's also on top of all the other stuff in the record book,

like our rates and customers' addresses and phone numbers. She even has a list of the names of all their pets.

"You take it, Mary Anne. I promised I'd help David Michael give Shannon a bath." Kristy went ahead and called Mrs. Newton to let her know Mary Anne would be there. That's generally the way our club works. We rarely squabble over jobs, because there's always enough to go around.

"Don't forget your Kid-Kit, Mary Anne. I hear it's supposed to rain, and you know how Jamie can be when he's stuck inside," Dawn said.

Kid-Kits are another of Kristy's great ideas. They've been lifesavers more times than I can count, especially on rainy days or when kids miss their parents and need to be distracted. Kid-Kits are boxes filled with toys, books, and games. (We each made our own, decorating them with scraps of cloth, sequins, or whatever else we could find in Claudia'smisselaneus carton of supplies. The Kid-Kits don't have all new stuff, but it's new to the kids we sit for, and it really keeps them occupied.

"Speaking of Kid-Kits, how's the treasury? Can we afford some new Colorforms? Mine don't stick anymore, they've been used so much." Kristy looked over at me.

I checked the manila envelope to see how much dues money we had. We each get to keep all the money we earn on every job, but we pay dues weekly to cover incidentals for the Kid-Kits. We also use money from the treasury to pay Kristy's big brother Charlie to drive her to meetings — it's too far to walk since she moved to Watson's — and for the occasional pizza bash, and to help Claud pay her phone bill. It only took me a second to count the money (that's why I'm treasurer).

"There's plenty for Colorforms," I said when I was done. "Anyone else need supplies?"

Everybody started to talk at once, but the phone began to ring. There were four or five calls in a row, but we handled each one quickly. Then, just as Kristy was getting ready to adjourn the meeting, the phone rang one more time.

Kristy answered it. She talked forever. I could tell she was talking to Dr. Johanssen, who is the mother of my favorite baby-sitting charge, Charlotte. But I couldn't figure out what Dr. Johanssen wanted. It sounded complicated.

When she hung up, Kristy pushed back her visor. "Okay, guys, here's the story. Mr. Johanssen's father has to have surgery, and the Johanssens want to be there with him. Dr. Johanssen said her father-in-law isn't in any real danger — but he's pretty old, so the operation could be hard on him. So they have to leave town for about a week, but they don't want to make Charlotte miss school."

I couldn't imagine how they could avoid that. It's not as if Charlotte's other grandparents live here in town. In fact, the Johanssens have no family at all in Stoneybrook.

"So she was wondering if Charlotte could stay with either Jessi's family or with you, Stace," Kristy finished. "She said she's willing to pay well for all the time they'd be away."

This was really something new! No BSC member had ever had this kind of job before.

Right away, Jessi said she couldn't do it. "Too bad. Becca would be so thrilled to have her best friend sleep over for a whole week! But we're going to New Jersey this weekend to see my cousins."