Ann Martin - Mary Anne And Too Many Boys

"Can we look at souvenirs?" Margo asked.

"I brought my money with me."

We made our first stop at a little shop that sold hundreds of souvenirs made of seashells. There were jewelry boxes decorated with pearly pink shells that looked like fans, and mirrors ringed with tiny white shells no bigger than a dime. There was a music box shaped like a clam shell, and dozens of shell key rings. Everything seemed a little expensive for Margo, so I tried to persuade her to buy a plain conch shell.

"But it doesn't say Sea City on it," she said.

"But it's pretty, and every time you look at it, you'll think of the ocean," I pointed out.

Margo looked unconvinced, and Vanessa was getting impatient with her. "Don't make such a big deal out of it, Margo. Do you want to buy a seashell or not?"

"But that's just a plain old shell. I can find one of those on the beach."

"But you haven't found one yet," Vanessa said reasonably. "How about this?" She picked up a beautiful white sand dollar and handed it to Margo. Someone had drilled a hole in the top and tied a strand of ribbon through it.

"Ooh, that's pretty," Margo said. "What is it?"

"It's a Christmas tree ornament," I told her.

"You can hang it on the tree every year, and when it's snowing in Stoneybrook, you can dream about Sea City."

"I love it!" Margo cried. She had exactly enough money to pay for it, and Vanessa took her to the cashier while I wandered around the store for a few more minutes. I saw a black T-shirt that I knew Dawn would love. "Sea City" was scrawled across it in bright pink letters that looked like they were written in lipstick. It was exactly right for Dawn — but not for me — and I finally bought two coffee mugs, one for my father and one for Sharon. They looked handmade and said SEA CITY in very small letters at the bottom. I even found a toy for Tigger.

Our next stop was Trampoline Land, which is one of Margo's favorite spots in town. She immediately pulled Claire onto a giant trampoline with her, while Vanessa and I watched from the sidelines. I always feel a little dizzy when I watch people jump up and down on a trampoline, and I can't understand why Margo likes it so much. What is even stranger is that Margo gets motion sickness just from riding in a car, but trampolines don't seem to bother her.

Except this time.

Margo had been jumping like a human pogo

stick for almost twenty minutes when I noticed that she looked a little pale. "She looks kind of ... white, doesn't she?" I said to no one in particular.

Vanessa gasped. "White — she looks green!" She grabbed my arm. "Mary Anne, we have to do something fast. She's going to be sick!"

"Oh, no," I moaned. I looked at Margo's head bobbing up and down and I realized that Vanessa was right. Margo's eyes were glassy, and her skin was suddenly flushed. She was definitely sick, and in a moment or two, everyone would know about it. "But what can we do? Why doesn't she stop?"

Vanessa shook her head. "She can't stop. She's probably trying to work her way over to the edge right now, but all those other kids are in the way. You can't just walk off a trampoline, you know."

Vanessa was absolutely right. When you're on a trampoline, you bounce up and down, even if you don't want to. Sometimes parents go on the trampoline to get their kids, and they bob up and down just like everybody else.

"I'm going in after her," I said, coming to a decision. I felt pretty silly bouncing like a kangaroo toward Margo, but after all, I was

the baby-sitter. I knew I had to get to her. "Hang on, Margo," I said when I finally caught up with her. I grabbed her arm to guide her off the trampoline, and she stood on the sidelines for a few moments, swaying back and forth. Claire stood next to us.

"As soon as she feels better, we'll leave," I said to Vanessa and Claire.

"Good," Vanessa spoke up. "I want to go to Ice-Cream Palace."

I was shocked. "Vanessa, give Margo a few minutes to recover. She nearly got sick."

Vanessa rolled her eyes. "Ice cream settles your stomach," she said. No one believed her, and we headed for Fred's Putt-Putt Course to watch the miniature golf.

"Now can we go to Ice-Cream Palace?" Vanessa asked half an hour later. I've never known Vanessa to be so incredibly whiny.

"I guess so," I said. "Margo seems to be feeling better, and — "I never got a chance to finish the sentence because Vanessa raced ahead of me. What was the big deal about going to Ice-Cream Palace? (I should have known!)

"There he is," Vanessa said happily when we caught up with her at the Palace. She was speaking very quietly so only I could hear her. She nodded toward the counter and I saw

that Chris was on duty. "I've left him three poems," she said proudly.

"You did what?"

"I managed to come here three times since last Friday/' she whispered. "And I left him a note on the counter each time."

"I didn't think you were really going to do that." I felt awful and wished I had spent more time trying to talk Vanessa out of it.

"I told you I was," she said flatly. "That's the only way for him to know how I feel about him." She smiled. "And pretty soon, I'll know how he feels about me."

Chris caught sight of us then, and to my surprise, he started a conversation with Vanessa. Could he really be interested in her? I wondered. He seemed very curious about where we lived, and how long we were staying in Sea City. In between all the questions, he managed to make four hot fudge sundaes for us, and this time, there weren't any accidents. I noticed that his boss was keeping an eye on him, so I think he was being extra careful.

Vanessa dawdled over her sundae forever, probably hoping to hear more from Chris, but finally it was time to leave. We were almost out the door when Chris came dashing over, wiping his hands on his apron.

"Hey, Vanessa?" He kept his voice so low, I had to strain to hear him.

"Yes?"

"Do me a favor, will you?"

"Sure!"

"Tell Mallory I'll be able to go out with her Saturday night."

Vanessa was speechless, and so was I. He was going out with Mallory on Saturday night? How in the world had this happened?

He didn't even know Mallory. And Mallory probably didn't like him, so why did he think — Then it hit me. The poems! Somehow Chris had misunderstood the poems. He must have thought they were from Mallory. I struggled to remember the one that I read. Something about "an accident brought us together." Of course! He remembered bumping heads with Mallory, so naturally he thought of her when he read that line. What a mess!

In a crazy way, it made sense. After all, Chris is twelve, and Mal is eleven. Vanessa is only nine, and at that age there is a big difference. Chris probably thinks of Vanessa as a baby — but of Mal as a cute girl.

I waited until we were on the boardwalk before whispering to Vanessa, "What are you going to do?"

Vanessa shook her head, her eyes very

bright. "I don't know," she said sadly. "How could I have been so stupid?"

Claire interrupted us then, and we didn't get a chance to continue the conversation. Things were really busy at the Pikes' when we got back, and when I finally had a free moment, Mrs. Pike said Vanessa was taking a nap.

A nap at four-thirty in the afternoon? I tiptoed upstairs and stood for a minute outside her closed door. There was no sound coming from inside, and after a moment I went back downstairs. I was very worried about Vanessa.

Chapter 12.

It was one of those days when you are sure that nothing interesting will ever happen, and then, pow! Something zaps you right out of the blue. Jessi Ramsey was sitting for Becca and Squirt while her mother was at a job interview and her father was at work. She was happy when Charlotte Johanssen came to the door and asked if she could play with Becca. Charlotte is an only child and a favorite with the BSC members, especially Stacey. She's one of those good-natured kids, smart with a serious, adult side to her. She and Becca get along very well together, and both have good imaginations.