Ann Martin - Mary Anne And The Secret In The Attic

Dawn just looked at him.

"I guess not," he said. "Oh, well. Poor Bo has to stay home again." He bent to give the dog a hug. "Let’s go!" he said.

Dawn helped the boys into their jackets (Jackie tore the sleeve of his because he was trying to show off how it looked when he put it on backward) and then they headed for the town hall.

The Stoneybrook town hall is near the library. It’s a big old building made of gray stone/ and I've always thought it looks kind of like a prison. Dawn thought so, too, as she climbed the stairs with the boys. She pushed open the heavy door and was greeted by a musty smell and a quiet, hushed feeling. Suddenly she realized that town hall might not have been the best place to bring the Rodowsky boys. She grabbed Archie's hand and motioned to Jackie to come closer. "I want you boys to behave," she whispered. "No loud talking, no running, no touching anything that looks breakable. Understood?"

Jackie and Archie nodded solemnly. "Now, Jackie," said Dawn, sitting him down at a table. "I want you to sit here with Archie while I take Shea to the information desk. He has to find out where to do his research. Sit right here and don't move a muscle," she said. "I'll be back in a second."

She looked over her shoulder at the two of them as she walked Shea to the desk. They sat quietly, hands folded in their laps, looking like innocent little boys. Dawn smiled to her-

self. She knew they could be good if they tried.

With the help of the woman at the desk, Shea was soon settled down next to a pile of big record books. "Looks like you can find just about anything here," she said to him. And then something occurred to her. "I wonder," she said out loud. She reached for the "B" volume, planning to look up Baker and see what she could find out about my mother and grandmother. But before she could open it, she heard a loud crash from the next room — and remembered Jackie and Archie.

"Oh, no," she cried. She ran back to where she'd left them, but they were nowhere in sight. So she ran toward the room that the crash had come from. There was Jackie, standing in front of a filing cabinet, looking sheepish. The woman from the information booth was on her knees beside him, trying to scoop up an armful of folders without letting them get out of order. One of the drawers from the cabinet lay on its side on the floor.

"I'm so sorry," Dawn said to the woman.

"If s all right," she replied. "It's not the first time it's happened. These old drawers just don't stop where they should."

"I didn't mean to," said Jackie. "I was just checking to see whether — "

"Never mind," said Dawn, a little impatiently. "Where's Archie?"

"Um," said Jackie. "He said he wanted to play hide-and-seek. So I told him to hide."

"You what?" asked Dawn. "Where is he?"

"I don't know," said Jackie, with a shrug. "He's hiding."

Dawn rolled her eyes.

It was a long afternoon at the town hall. While Shea did his research, Dawn was kept busy with Archie and Jackie. She found Archie behind some drapes, only to have to run across the room to keep Jackie from using the copy machine to make a picture of his face. Then Archie escaped and hid again, this time in the men's room. Dawn had to ask one of the clerks to fetch him. Next, Jackie slid down the big banister that ran down the center of the main stairs, almost knocking over the mayor, who was walking up to her office. And Archie escaped again while Dawn was apologizing for Jackie, and that time Dawn found him, after a long search, in the janitor's closet.

Dawn was exhausted by the time she got home that night, but she wasn't too tired to come marching into my room to tell me what she'd been thinking about all day.

"You know," she said. "I started to look for information on your mother at the town hall today."

"You did?" I asked. "Do you think there's anything there?"

"Whether there is or not isn't the point," she said. "I realized today that you shouldn't have to be looking through public records to find out what you want to know. You should be able to ask your father about it. I think it's time for you to do that."

"No," I said stubbornly. "Not my dad."

"Well," she replied, "I think you should talk to some adult about it."

"I couldn't," I said. "I wouldn't know what to say. Now, if Mimi were alive — "

"But she's not," said Dawn bluntly. "And you need information, and support. Why don't you at least talk to Kristy, or Claud? Maybe their parents told them something about this — or maybe they remember stuff from way back."

Dawn was pretty convincing. It wasn't easy to get on the phone and tell Kristy what I'd discovered. She was totally shocked, and so was Claud when I called her. But neither of them could help me at all. This was the first they'd heard about my strange past.

Chapter 11.

"Paint?"

"Check."

"Cardboard?"

"Check."

"Tunes?"

I held up the cassette player. "Check. We're all set." Dawn and I were waiting for the rest of the BSC to arrive. We had chosen Saturday as the day to create our cardboard cut-outs for Heritage Day. Dad and Sharon were running errands, as they usually do on Saturday mornings, so we had the place to ourselves.

Logan was the first to arrive, and Jessi and Mal came soon after. When Claudia arrived, she gave me a significant look and a big hug. "I'm okay," I said. "Really." I had decided to forget about my problems — at least for this one day. Telling Claud and Kristy the night before had helped me feel better, even though nothing was solved. But I wasn't ready to tell

everyone else; not just yet, anyway. I'd apologized to Logan for acting so strangely, but I hadn't explained anything to him.

Kristy came in right behind Claud. She gave me a significant look, too, but instead of a hug she gave me a little punch on the arm. that’s Kristy's version of a hug. It means, "I'm here for you" or something to that effect.

Stacey showed up last, and finally we were ready to start. Dawn put the latest Gary Rock-man tape in the cassette player, Claud and Mal started sketching the figures onto the cardboard, and the rest of us mixed paints and spread newspapers all over the floor in the den. I'd promised Dad and Sharon we'd clean up any mess we made.

"Okay," said Claud. "Who's ready to start on Old Hickory, here?" She held up the sketch she'd done.

"Claudia, that’s great!" said Dawn. "I love his outfit." Old Hickory was wearing breeches and an old-fashioned waistcoat. Dawn turned to me. "How about if you, me, and Logan work on this one?" she said. "Then Jessi and Stacey and Kristy can start on the next one."

"Sounds good," said Logan. He grabbed a brush and a jar of paint.

"Wait," I said. "Don't we have to cut him out, first?"

"Oh, right," said Logan. He put down the

paint and started to walk toward the kitchen. "I'll get the scissors," he said.

"Logan!" I yelled, calling him back. "I've already got the scissors, right here."

Logan turned around quickly — and tripped over the jar of paint he'd just set down. A thick, yellow puddle spread over the newspapers.

"Quick!" I said. "Mop that up before it hits the carpet!" I tossed him a roll of paper towels.

"Don't worry," said Claud. "Ifs water-based. It shouldn't make any permanent stains."

"What about my new sneakers?" asked Logan, looking down at his feet. Both sneakers were smeared with yellow.

"Take 'em off," I said. "But first, catch that puddle."

Once Logan had cleaned up the paint and taken off his shoes, we were ready to start. By that time, the other team of painters were starting on a double figure: George and Martha Washington.

Dawn cut out our figure, carefully working around the hard parts. She had just finished when the tape stopped. "I'll get it," said Dawn. She jumped up, ran to the cassette player — and knocked over the jar of red paint I'd been stirring.