Ann Martin - Mary Anne And The Zoo Mystery

Mary Anne And The Zoo Mystery

Ann M. Martin

Chapter 1.

"Listen to this! Bedford Zoo to host animal world VIPs." I held up the front page of the newspaper, which displayed a large color photo. "James and Mojo."

"Mojo?" a voice from the kitchen door repeated. "What kind of a name is that?"

I giggled. "It’s a name for a gorilla." I turned the newspaper so Dawn could see. "Here's her picture. Isn't she darling?"

"Mary Anne, you think every fuzzy-faced, four-legged creature is darling," Dawn said.

I thought about it — but not for long. "I guess I do." As if to prove it, I picked up my extremely cute gray-striped kitten off the floor and plopped him in my lap. "Isn't that right, Tigger?"

Jigger's motor started instantly. I scratched him in one of his favorite spots, between the ears, and smiled as his eyelids dropped to half-mast.

Since you've already met Tigger and Dawn, I guess I should introduce myself. I'm Mary Anne Spier. I'm thirteen years old, and I live inStoneybrook,Connecticut, with my dad, my stepmother Sharon, and my stepsister Dawn (and Tigger).

You'll notice I said stepmother and stepsister. That's because this is my dad's second marriage. He didn't get divorced, like a lot of parents I know. My mother died when I was a baby, so I have no memories of her. We have photos of her, so I know what she looked like, but it’s not quite the same as remembering.

For the longest time, it was just me and my father. Because he had to raise me all by himself, Dad used to be really strict. I'm not kidding. For one thing, I couldn't talk on the phone, except to ask questions about homework. But the worst thing was the way he made me dress. Can you imagine a seventh-grader wearing pigtails and jumpers with kneesocks? It was terrible. I felt like a baby.

To make matters worse, I was — and still am — extremely shy. It was difficult for me to make friends. It was also hard for me to stand up to my father. When I finally did, it really changed my life.

This is how it happened. I'm a member of the Baby-sitters Club (which I'll tell you more

about later), or the BSC. Through the BSC, I had taken a job baby-sitting for Jenny Prezzioso, a three-year-old. After her parents left for the afternoon, Jenny got really sick. She had a fever of one hundred and four degrees. I couldn't reach her parents so I called all of the numbers the Prezziosos had left for me, but no one was home. Finally I called 911. The operator sent an ambulance right away and we took Jenny to the hospital.

It was a very scary experience, but Dad was impressed with my responsible behavior. That gave me the courage to talk to him about being allowed to grow up.

Now I dress the way I want, which is still pretty conservative. I mean, I wear the latest styles and all, but I don't go overboard. My dark brown hair is no longer in pigtails. In fact, I recently had it cut short (to my chin). It’s bouncy and very easy to take care of. I talk to my friends when I want to and — are you ready for this? I have a steady boyfriend, which would have been a major no-no before. What can I tell you about Logan Bruno? He's cute (I think he looks just like my favorite star, Cam Geary), and he's charming, especially with that southern accent (Logan's fromLouisville,Kentucky). He's a great athlete, an extremely nice guy, and a member of the Babysitters Club. Well, not a full-fledged member.

Logan's an associate member, which means he helps out when we have too many jobs and not enough sitters to go around.

Back to my dad. Once he realized that I didn't need to be watched so closely, hejdis-covered that he could get on with his own life. Which was great, and that’s how I ended up with this wonderful new family.

You see, it all started when I met Dawn Schafer, who had just moved to Stoneybrook with her mom and brother, Jeff. Dawn's family had been living inCalifornia, but when her mom and dad got divorced, Sharon (Dawn's mom) returned, with her kids, to the place where she grew up — Stoneybrook. Dawn and I quickly became friends. Then a truly amazing dung happened.

One day, Dawn and I were looking through my father's high school yearbook. We had tons of fun laughing at all of the strange hairdos and funny outfits that they wore twenty years ago. Then we saw a message he had written to S.E.P. under his picture. S.E.P. were Dawn's mother's initials before she got married! We flipped toSharon's picture. It said "Dearest Richie" with a really gushy message signed "Always and forever,Sharon."

Richie was my dad. He and Sharon had been high school sweethearts. Isn't that incredible? Dawn and I decided that instant that we had

a mission — to get Sharon and Richie back together.

We reintroduced them to each other, and love did the rest. Before we knew it they were dating, and after awhile, they married. Did we all live happily ever after? Of course!

Well, it wasn't quite that simple. You see, Dad and I moved in with Sharon and Dawn. (My ten-year-old stepbrother Jeff had already gone back toCalifornia. He had had a tough time adjusting to his new school here in Stoneybrook, plus he really missed his dad and friends back on the West Coast.)

To be honest, we all had some trouble adjusting to each other at first. You see, Dawn and Sharon are extremely casual people. They don't worry if the house gets a little messy. Or even a lot messy. Sharon is pretty absent-minded, too, which adds to the clutter. She'll put her shoes in the refrigerator and the orange juice in the hall closet. After she's cooked dinner (which is usually some form of vegetarian cuisine), the kitchen can officially be de-dared a disaster area. Every pan and utensil is on the counter, drawers are left open, and the sink is piled high with dishes. That doesn't bother Sharon or Dawn.

But it sure bothers Dad, who is a full-fledged neat freak. My father's socks are organized by color in his dresser. His shirts are hung exactly

one inch apart in his closet. His desk looks like a window display for office supplies and his car still smells new, even though it’s several years old.

At first Dawn and I tried to share a room, but we soon discovered that we were just too different. She listens to music when she does her homework; I like silence. Her idea of a late snack is an apple and a carton of yogurt. For me, it’s a plate full of Oreos and a tall glass of milk. When we finally set up separate rooms, life became much easier.

There have been a few other rough spots — such as when Dawn went back to California to live with her dad for awhile because she missed him so terribly. That was hard. We talked on the phone a lot (you should have seen the phone bills!), but it still wasn't the same as having her in the next room. Now Dawn is living with us again, and I'm thrilled. I don't even mind her weird granola toast and special oat-and-nuts cereal (I've even taken to eating it for breakfast myself).

In fact, when she appeared in the doorway that Saturday, half asleep and verging on being a grouch, I had already eaten a large bowl of the stuff hours earlier.

"Mojo," Dawn muttered, pushing her long blonde hair away from her face as she bent to fill her cereal bowl. "How come James got a

regular name, and Mojo was stuck with Mojo? That hardly seems fair."

"They'll be at the Bedford Zoo. We have to go and see them," I declared, putting the paper down. "Since it’s springtime, m bet lots of the animals are having babies. I can't wait to see them!"

Dawn was starting to wake up. She took a sip of the orange juice she'd poured herself. "That sounds like fun. Why don't we go today?"

I shook my head. "Can't. Logan's coming over and the three of us are going to a movie, downtown. Remember?" "How are we getting there?" "Bikes. You know that." I snapped my fingers in front of her bewildered face.