Ann Martin: Mallory On Strike

The Prezziosos live on Burnt Hill Road and are friends of my family. They're a little prim and proper but nice. They have two daughters — Jenny, who's four, and a baby, Andrea. The Prezziosos needed a sitter for the following Saturday afternoon, so Mary Anne, who likes Jenny a lot, volunteered. As soon as Stacey hung up, the phone rang again. And then it rang again. And again.

"That's four sitters for Saturday," Mary Anne commented as she assigned the Papa-dakises to Kristy and the Arnold twins to Jessi.

Dawn, who'd just agreed to sit for Jamie and Lucy Newton, nodded. "Something really big must be happening."

Claudia was busy searching through her desk drawers for a bag of pretzels she had hidden the night before. "Didn't you know?" she said. "Chez Maurice is serving a special luncheon. They're going to donate half the money they make to the Stoneybrook Public

Library." She found the pretzels in a pile of dirty clothes, tore open the bag, and took a loud, crunchy bite of a pretzel. "Chez Maurice has the most dibble food." (Dibble is a word we made up that means incredible.) "It's my parents' favorite restaurant."

Claud passed the pretzels around the room and even Dawn, who as I told you is a major health food nut, took a handful. I guess listening to Claudia describe all the delicious French dishes at Chez Maurice made everyone hungry. Everyone except me.

Too many thoughts were churning in my head to pay much attention. Young Authors Day was only four weeks away. A month isn't much time when you are trying to write an award-winning story. I mean, I've sometimes spent as long as two months working on a short poem. I wanted to give this story one hundred percent of my effort for two reasons: 1) I wanted to win the award for Best Overall Fiction for the Sixth Grade (that would mean that I do have talent, and might really become a famous author someday), and 2) I wanted to make my wonderful teacher, Mr. Dougherty, proud of me.

"Then there's this delicious dish called an-guilles roti," Claudia said, as she shoved another handful of pretzels into her mouth and

flopped back on her bed. "It tastes all buttery and garlicky" is what she said, but what everyone heard was, "Uf tasel buddery an gawikee."

Jessi, who is very good with languages and is studying French (mainly because that's the language of ballet), shot Claudia a funny look. "Did you say anguilles?" (Jessi pronounced it "On-guiy.")

Claudia nodded.

Jessi wrinkled her nose. "That's French for eels!"

"Eels!" Claud nearly spit her pretzels out onto her tie-dyed T-shirt. "Oh, gross!" She leaped off the bed and hopped in a circle, saying, "Ew! Ew! Ew!"

The rest of us howled with laughter as we watched her dance around in disgust. I was still worrying about my homework, and my story, and when I was ever going to get a chance to work on them. Jessi must have noticed I stopped laughing before anyone else because she tapped me on the shoulder and said, "Can you believe it? Claud ate eels and didn't even know it."

Before I could respond, the phone rang again. Kristy, who was laughing just as loudly as the others, waved her arm for everyone to quiet down. Then she put on a very serious face and picked up the phone.

"Baby-sitters Club," she said. "No job is too small. We'll give it our all!"

That made everyone burst out laughing again. But Mary Anne gestured for us to keep silent while Kristy listened intently, then nodded her head several times.

"I'll call you right back, okay?", Kristy hung up the phone and said, "That was Mrs. Hobart. She needs a sitter for James, Mathew, and Johnny. Naturally, it's for Saturday. But Mrs. Hobart isn't going to Chez Maurice."

"To eat eels," Stacey whispered, giving Claudia a nudge. Claud aimed her finger down her throat, and that set Dawn to giggling.

Kristy adjusted her visor and tried to look like a stern president. "Mrs. Hobart is taking a class and needs someone to sit with the boys for four Saturdays, starting tomorrow. She's willing to pay extra if the sitter will help them with their homework." By the way, there are four Hobart boys. The oldest is Ben. He's my age, and sometimes we go to dances and stuff together. I guessed Ben had said he would watch his brothers but had had to back out at the last minute.

Mary Anne checked the club notebook and shook her head. "Boy, we're really filled up on Saturday. We just booked four of us today,

and Claudia and Stacey already have jobs. It looks like Mallory's the only one who can do it."

Kristy turned and smiled at me. "Lucky you. You'll be able to earn a lot of money on this one."

I thought it over quickly. If I sat for the Hobarts on Saturdays, that would leave me only one day each weekend to work on my story, finish my homework, and do my chores. That just wasn't enough time. It was a tough decision, but I had to make it.

"I'm sorry, Mary Anne," I said, "but I have to turn this one down."

Everyone stared at me in surprise. "Do you have another sitting job?" Stacey asked.

I shook my head. "No. I just would rather not take this one, if that's okay."

I was about to tell the club about Young Authors Day, and how important the contest was to me, but the looks on their faces made me stop. I was afraid they'd think I was being selfish. I pursed my lips and stared at my hands in my lap, hoping they'd stop staring at me.

"Well..." Mary Anne shrugged. Her voice trailed off as she studied the notebook. "I guess we'll just have to call one of our associate members."

Kristy picked up the phone. "I'll call Shan-32

non Kilbourne. She told me she needed some work."

I barely looked up during the rest of the meeting. I was too embarrassed. Luckily it lasted only a few more minutes. At six o'clock, when Kristy announced that the meeting of the BSC was officially adjourned, I hurried out of the Kishi house and grabbed my bike. I didn't even wait to talk to Jessi. My feelings were too jumbled up. I needed time to think.

Chapter 4.

I set my alarm for seven o'clock the next morning. Believe me, it was agony getting up so. early. Usually I try to sleep at least until eight on Saturdays. Vanessa was still in bed, so I got dressed as quietly as I could and tiptoed down to the rec room on the bottom floor of our house. I'd made up my mind to finish my homework early. Then I would have the rest of the day to work on my award-winning story.

It was weird to hear so much quiet. Usually our house is filled with noise, but the only sound I heard as I worked on my math problems was Mom in the kitchen above me. I listened to her grind the coffee beans and fill the coffee maker. Then I heard her slippers shuffle across the linoleum to the refrigerator. Since it was Saturday, I guessed she was whipping up pancake batter for breakfast. It's a Pike family favorite. Sometimes for a treat she

puts chocolate chips in the pancakes.

After I got used to the quiet, 1 focused all my attention on my homework. It was amazing. I finished the math problems in less than an hour and hurried on to my science. By then, the house was starting to sound -like itself again.

I heard the triplets clatter down the stairs and turn on the stereo in the living room. Shortly after that I heard Nicky leap down the stairs to join them. They had their usual Saturday morning argument over which station to listen to. Finally I heard my father's voice say, "Truce! Now, we'll decide this fairly and squarely." Fairly and squarely meant Dad was going to flip a coin. There was silence, then Dad said, "Call it!" and shortly after that, Nicky's voice shouted, "1 won! 1 won!"

I could just imagine him hopping up and down, grinning wickedly over his victory. I hummed to myself as I worked on my final assignment. It was a book report for Mr. Williams' English class. I had read the final chapter the night before, so the story was still fresh in my mind.