Ann Martin - Mallory Pike, No.1 Fan

Tears welled in my eyes as I passed the line of trees and neared the road. Wiping them with the sleeves of my jacket, I climbed on my bike and started to ride. As I pedaled, I had the awful feeling that I'd just turned my back on one of the most wonderful people I'd ever known. Stop thinking she's so great, I commanded myself. Henrietta Hayes isn't who you thought she was.

With my head bent against the wind, I pedaled hard up Morgan Road, away from Henrietta Hayes and her happy books of a madeup, fake family, and toward the real-life Pike family - who were mostly not talking to me at all.

Chapter 8.

I cracked open my bedroom door and peeked out. It was unbelievable! They were still there. My brothers and sisters marched back and forth in front of my room carrying picket signs. "Mallory Pike unfair!" read the one Vanessa held. "The Spikes are a lie!" read Byron's sign. Even Claire had drawn a picture of me in crayon and then drawn a red circle around the picture and slashed a line across it - an international sign for No Mallory. "Mallory-busters!" she chanted as she paced the hallway with the others.

When I'd returned from Ms. Hayes's house that afternoon, the picket line had been in front of the house. "This is just practice!" Vanessa cried as they followed me upstairs. They'd been picketing the hallway for the last hour.

Shutting the door, I shook my head wearily. What a weird family. I didn't know what they were mad about. Judging from the way they were acting now, I'd treated them kindly in my play. They were really a bunch of nuts.

There was a knock on my door and I opened it a crack, half expecting to get a pie in the face or something. But it was Mom. "Can I come in?" she asked.

"Sure," I said, opening the door wider. As Mom stepped in, Margo caught my eye and stuck out her tongue. I wasn't going to stoop to that level, so I just gave her my best icy glare and shut the door.

"Vanessa tells me you wrote a play about our family," said Mom, getting right to the point. I nodded. "She says it's very insulting," Mom added.

"It's not insulting, it's true to life," I defended myself.

"Nicky says his character walks around with a bucket on his head," Mom said. "I've never seen Nicky with a bucket on his head." "It's just a little comedy bit to dramatize how the boys are always faffing or getting hurt or crashing into stuff every two seconds," I explained. "It wouldn't be as interesting if I just had my characters getting hurt all the time the way they really do." "I see. It's a little artistic license," said Mom.

"What's that?" I asked.

"That's when you change things around a little to make them more interesting. Strictly speaking, what you've written isn't true." "But it's basically true," I added. "The heart of it is true, yes," Mom agreed. "Then that's what I've done. I've used artistic license." "Could I read your play?" Mom asked. "You could," I agreed. "But it would be better if you could see it. I'm going to the elementary school tomorrow for a rehearsal, if you'd like to come." "All right. That's what I'll do," said Mom. "Aren't you home from Ms. Hayes's house early?" "Yes. I . . . I don't think I'll be going there anymore. She doesn't really have enough for me to do." I didn't feel like talking about the real reason right then.

Mom studied me. "Did anything happen with Ms. Hayes?" "No, nothing," I lied.

"All right," said Mom. "Supper will be ready soon." "Do you mind if I don't eat?" I asked. "I'm not hungry." Mom smiled. "Are you nervous about eating with the Pike family picketers?" Truthfully, the idea didn't thrill me. I just wanted to be alone. "They don't bother me," I said. "But I'm not hungry." "Okay," Mom agreed, but she sounded reluctant.

That night Vanessa came to our room, changed into her pajamas, and went to bed without even looking at me. I had no great desire to look at or speak with her either. Instead, I opened to the last chapter of Alice Anderson's Greatest Challenge. I read one sentence and then tossed the book on the floor. Why bother reading a bunch of lies.

After a minute or two, my curiosity won out and I picked the book up again. I needed to know what happened. "Shut off the light, please," Vanessa said snootily. I. snapped off the light and went under the covers with my flashlight.

It took me less than an hour to finish the book. Alice Anderson asked for some time off from her role in the movie to go home and take care of her sick mother. It took so long that she called up the director and said she couldn't be in the movie. Then one day the film crew showed up at her house. The director loved Alice's little town, so he stayed' and shot other scenes there. Everyone was excited, and Alice was not only on the road to stardom, but the people of her hometown got together and gave her an award for bringing fame and new business to their community.

I have to admit, I was smiling when Alice burst into happy tears over the award. Then I remembered it was written by a fake, and forced myself to stop smiling.

I shut off the flashlight and fell asleep under my covers. I had a terrible dream. I dreamed Pow had a dog collar covered with little spikes. Suddenly, the spikes flew off the collar and started attacking me. I guess you don't have to be a genius psychiatrist to figure out why I dreamed of being attacked by spikes.

In the morning I awoke to a silent Vanessa, and found a note in my cereal bowl on the kitchen table. "Pikes on strike against Spikes," it said.

"What are spikes?" Mom asked, reading the note over my shoulder.

"That's the name of the family in the play." "Oh, Mal, couldn't you have picked a better name?" Mom asked.

"It rhymes." "How about the Likes or the Tykes." "Dumb," I commented.

"Oh," said Mom. "Well, I'll meet you at the elementary school auditorium after school." "Okay," I agreed, grabbing a handful of Cheerios from the box.

Two handfuls later, I had met Jessi and we were walking to school together. "Mom is coming to rehearsal today," I told her. "Want to come?" "Sure. But there's something I think you should know. I hate to tell you this, Mal, but Becca told me the play is insulting and that she's not sure if she should be in it." "What?" I cried.

"Charlotte and Haley might drop out, too," Jessi reported. "They feel they're being disloyal to Vanessa. I told Becca that they couldn't leave you just like that, but they're not the only ones. Nicky told Buddy Barrett he couldn't ever see Pow again if Buddy was in the play." "Are you kidding?" (We got Pow from the Barretts when Marnie Barrett developed an allergy to animal dander. Buddy and Suzi Barrett are still very attached to Pow and come to visit him often.) "I'll kill Nicky!" Later that day, when I arrived at the elementary school, I found the Pike picket line in full swing. My darling siblings were marching back and forth in front of the double doors with their idiotic signs. It was mortifying! "Make them stop," I said to Mom who was standing by the line.

"Mom, you wouldn't cross a picket line, would you?" asked Adam.

"Think of me as an impartial arbitrator," said Mom.

"So, you admit you're being a traitor!" shouted Vanessa.

"No," Mom explained. "An arbitrator is someone who tries to find a solution which is fair to both parties in a dispute. Impartial means I'm not on either side. I'm alone in the middle." - "Come on, Mom, I have to start this rehearsal," I said. "Make them go home." "That's enough, kids," said Mom. "Head home. Stacey and Mary Anne are waiting for you with Claire." With a lot of grumbling and dirty looks, they shouldered their signs and left. Mom and I went into the auditorium. Jessi was there with the kids, who were already sitting on the edge of the stage. "Hi, Mal. Hi, Mrs. Pike," Jessi greeted us as she hopped off the stage. She hurried up the aisle toward us, looking as if she had something important to say. "Mal, I think I headed off a crisis for you," she said.