Ann Martin - Little Miss Stoneybrook...and Dawn

"What's in 'Crimewatch' today?" I asked Claud, settling down on the floor beside her.

"Not much," she replied. Only it sounded like she said, "Mot mush," since her mouth was full of licorice. Claudia is a junk-food nut, and she's got stuff stashed everywhere - stuff I wouldn't touch with a ten-foot pole.

"What, though?" I wanted to know.

"Well, let's see. A man on Dodds Lane reported a burglar in his yard, but when the police arrived, they couldn't find anyone. And ... on Birch Street a woman said she was being attacked by giant butterflies demanding Twinkies."

"Where?" I shrieked. "Where does it say that?"

"Just making it up," Claud replied, grinning. "Really. It was a light week, crimewise."

Claudia flipped back to the beginning of the paper.

"Hey, what's that?" I said. I pointed to an article on the first page. It was titled "Little Miss Stoneybrook Pageant."

Claudia looked where I was pointing, and we read the article together. A pageant to choose Little Miss Stoneybrook was going to be held for girls ages five to eight. The winner would go on to a county pageant. The winner of the county pageant could compete for the Little Miss Connecticut crown. From there, she could go on-to try for Little Miss America and then Little Miss World. The Little Miss World crown seemed like kind of a long shot to me.

Claudia began reading aloud. " "The contestants will be judged on poise, talent, and looks/ " she said. " 'The title "Little Miss Stoneybrook" does not signify merely beauty, but brains and talent as well.' " Claud dropped the paper and made a face.

"What?" I said.

"I don't know. I think pageants are sexist. I don't care what the article says. People go to pageants and they think that the only thing little girls are good at is dressing up and looking cute. That's . . . that's . . . it's like . . . what's

that word that sounds like tape deck? Stereo-something."

"Oh, stereotyping," I supplied. I felt myself blushing. "I know what you mean, but guess what. When I was two, Mom entered my picture in a baby contest in Los Angeles and I won."

"You're kidding! Your mother doesn't seem like that kind of mother to me. You know, the pushy stage-mother mother."

"Well, she isn't. She wasn't," I replied. "I think someone dared her to enter me. So she did and then I won. She was really embarrassed. Not because I won," I added quickly, "but because my picture appeared everywhere, so all Mom's friends found out what she'd done - and they didn't all believe it was a joke."

Claudia giggled.

"Anyway," I went on, "you should hear her stories about the mothers and kids who enter those contests. Some of them are really serious. Winning contests is, like, their career."

Kristy and Mary Anne showed up then and we read the article to them.

"Sexist," said Kristy. "Who'd want to do a dumb thing like be in a pageant?"

"A little girl might," spoke up Mary Anne. She accepted a piece of licorice from Claudia.

"I can see how it might be glamorous to be up on stage in a fancy dress."

"True," agreed Kristy. "I guess a pageant could be sexist . . . but fun."

Mallory and Jessi held a different opinion, though. They arrived at 5:30 on the dot and looked at the newspaper article.

"On, no! I don't believe it!" Mallory cried. "A pageant here in Stoneybrook. What a disgrace!"

"Yeah," agreed Jessi. "Pageants are so sexist. Do you ever see boys competing for a crown? For Little Mr. America or something? No," she answered herself. "You do not. At least, not very often."

"I can only hope," said Mal, "that my sisters don't hear about the pageant. Claire and Margo would want to enter for sure."

"Would that really be so bad?" I asked. "I mean, I guess a pageant is sexist, but ... I don't know ..."

"But it could be fun," Kristy finished for me.

I didn't thank her. I was still a little mad about the induction ceremony she'd made up for Jessi and Mal, but not for me.

"Well," Jessi said, "one thing I don't have to worry about is my sister entering the pageant. There's no way she'd do that. She has

terrible stage fright. Last year, when she was in second grade, her class put on Little Red Riding Hood in the school auditorium. Becca played a flower. Halfway through the play there was this big crash. Becca had fainted - right onstage."

We all laughed.

"Okay," said Kristy. "Time to begin the meeting." She paused. Then, "Claud?" she said sweetly. "How did your special job with Charlotte Johanssen go?"

"Oh, fine," replied Claudia. "It really wasn't such a big deal that Dr. Johanssen wanted me instead of any of you guys." She was looking uncomfortable again.

It was no wonder. We were all giving her the evil eye.

And I suddenly felt this incredible urge to prove to everybody, especially our new junior members, that I was as good a baby-sitter as Claudia was, if not the best sitter in the club.

The other girls must have been feeling the same way, because just as I was about to tell about saving the kids from the fire, Mary Anne said loudly, "I really did have to get Jenny Prezzioso to the hospital in an ambulance. It was quite frightening. But I kept my cool."

If Mary Anne weren't being such a good friend to me these days, I think I would have

said something like, "I was with you, remember?"

As it was, Kristy said, "We have all heard about that particular emergency more than enough."

(I saw Mal and Jessi exchange a worried look.)

Whew. It was a good thing I hadn't mentioned the fire again.

Then Kristy added, "And by the way, you guys might remember that I was the one who caught Alan Gray when we thought he was the Phantom Phone Caller."

"Excuse me," said Claudia, "but you did not do it by yourself. I was there, too. I called the police. 1 - "

"Okay, okay, okay!" said Mary Anne. When Mary Anne raises her voice, we listen. She hardly ever raises her voice.

Luckily for all of us, the phone rang then. I answered it.

It was Mrs. Pike, Mallory's mother.

"Oh, hi, Dawn," she said. "I'm glad you picked up. I have a special job and I wanted to offer it to you."

Oops, I thought. Another special job? "What kind of special job, Mrs. Pike?" I asked.

You will never in a million years guess what Mrs. Pike's job was, so I'll just tell you. Re-27

member when Mallory said that if her sisters heard about the pageant, they'd want to enter it? Well, sure enough, Claire and Margo (who are five and seven) had heard, and they did want to enter. There was just one problem. Mrs. Pike wasn't going to be able to help them prepare for it. She was all tied up with some big volunteer project at the public library, and she didn't want to back out of her duties. So she wondered if I'd help the girls prepare. She was asking me because I live close by and would never need a ride over. And she was not asking Mallory, who, of course, would be the most convenient helper of all. She knew what Mallory thought about pageants. I guessed Mallory must be pretty outspoken on that subject.

"Well," Mrs. Pike finished up, "what do you think? This job would be a little different from most. You'd have to help the girls choose outfits, rehearse for the talent competition, learn to greet the judges, that sort of thing. I'll get all the information we need from the pageant committee." She paused. "This is not the sort of activity I'd usually approve for the girls," she went on, "but they're dying to enter, and I don't really see a good reason for them not to participate. I just hope they won't be

too disappointed if they lose. . . . Are you interested in the job, Dawn?"

I thought for a moment. I did want the job. It sounded like fun, and I needed some fun. I didn't want to cause any more problems among us sitters, though. On the other hand, this might be my chance to prove just how good I was with kids. Certainly as good as Claudia. Imagine if Claire or Margo won the contest and became Little Miss Stoneybrook! Plus, I wouldn't mind irking Kristy just a little bit to get back at her for the induction ceremony.