Ann Martin - Kristy And The Walking Disaster

Even with Chewy barking and leaping around, and Myriah gripping her legs, Mary Anne leaned over to toshe Gabbie up.

"Look, Mary Anne Spier," said Gabbie, holding out her finger. On the finger was a Band-Aid with pictures of Baby Kermit printed all over it. "I have an owie," she informed her sitter.

"An owie!" exclaimed Mary Anne. "Oh, no. How did that happen?"

"I was playing, and by accident, my finger went WHAM on the side of the TV. 1 was running, and it just went WHAM/"

"It's only a little owie," added Myriah, looking up at Mary Anne and Gabbie.

"No, if s a big one."

"No, little. How could - "

"Girls!" called Mrs. Perkins. "Let me talk to Mary Anne for a moment."

Mrs. Perkins came down the stairs with Laura bundled up in a baby blanket. Us sitters would love to take care of Laura sometimes, but she's just too little. Mrs. Perkins usually takes her wherever she goes. I guess one baby is a lot easier than one baby plus two kids.

Mrs. Perkins made sure that Mary Anne knew where the emergency numbers were, where she was going, and when she'd be back. Then she left. She hadn't been gone long when the doorbell rang.

"I'll get it," said Mary Anne. "You guys hold Chewy."

Chewy just loves to gallumph up to visitors. All he wants to do is greet them, but sometimes people don't know that. The sight of a huge dog running straight at you can be scary, especially if you're only four or five years old and not much taller than Chewy.

Mary Anne opened the door. There were Jamie Newton and Nina Marshall. They're both kids in the neighborhood and they're both four years old. Jamie was no surprise, but Nina sort of was. Our club sits for Jamie all the time, and for Nina and her little sister Eleanor sometimes, too, but while Nina hardly ever goes to the Perkinses', Jamie often does.

Mary Anne was glad to see both of them, though.

"Hi, you guys!" she said. "Did you come over to play?"

"Yup," said Jamie and Nina at the same time.

Mary Anne had just let them in and closed the front door when she heard a rowf! Chewy had struggled out of Myriah and Gabbie's grasp. He made a skidding dash through the hallway. Mary Anne caught him and led him out into the fenced-in backyard. Chewy is a handful - a happy handful with a doggie grin.

When Mary Anne went back in the house, she found things a little out of hand. Nina was running after Myriah with a giant foam-rubber banana. "Zonk! Zonk! Zonk!" she kept crying as she hit Myriah over the head with it.

Gabbie had found a plastic pitcher from her tea set. She had filled it with water and was carrying it through the house, crying, "Drinks for sale! Drinks for sale! Who wants to buy special water?"

"I do!" Jamie replied. "How much does it cost?"

"Four hundred dollars."

"Okay." Jamie reached into his pocket. He pretended to give Gabbie some money.

"Thank you," she said. Then she handed

Jamie the water and he drank it right out of the pitcher.

"Mmm, yummy. May I have - "

"Zonk! Zonk!" cried Nina. She and Myriah were tearing toward Gabbie and Jamie and the pitcher. Every time Nina zonked Myriah, Myriah replied, "Boi-oi-oi-oing!"

"You guys!" Mary Anne said desperately. "Look out!"

Too late.

Myriah and Nina crashed into Jamie and Gabbie. Water splashed everywhere.

"I think," said Mary Anne, "that it's time to play outside. May I have the pitcher and the banana, please? And would the four of you clean up the water before you put your jackets on?"

Mary Anne had never seen so many paper towels used to clean up such a small puddle, but at least the mess got mopped up. Then she took the kids into the Perkinses' backyard.

"How about some catch?" she suggested, remembering my phone call about starting a softball team.

"With Chewy around?" replied Myriah. "We better put him inside."

"Oh, poor Chewy," said Mary Anne. "He'll miss out on the fun. Let's leave him outside for just a little while."

"Okay-ay," said Myriah in a singsong voice that clearly meant she thought Mary Anne's idea was not a very wise one.

The kids found two bats - a wiffle bat and a regular one; three balls - a wiffle ball, a softball, and a tennis ball; and a couple of mitts.

"I'll be the pitcher," Myriah announced. "Nina, you be in the outfield. Gabbie and Jamie, you're the batters. You're on the other team."

Mary Anne was impressed. Myriah seemed to know a lot about playing ball.

"Okay, here comes the ball!" Myriah announced to Jamie, who was ready with the bat.

Jamie took one look at the softball flying toward him, dropped the bat, put his hands over his head, and ducked.

Guess who caught the ball? Chewy. Everyone ran after him. Chewy had the time of his life. He loves games. But when the kids couldn't catch him, they gave up. Besides, it was Gabbie's turn at bat, and since she's so little, Mary Anne told Myriah she'd have to pitch the wiffle ball. Then she gave Chewy a rawhide bone to keep him busy while the kids played.

Myriah tossed the wiffle ball.

Whack! Gabbie hit it. She looked extremely

pleased with herself. But she just stood by home plate, holding the bat. "Now, what do 1 do?" she asked.

"Run, you dope!" exclaimed Nina.

"Nina, no name-calling," Mary Anne admonished her.

The kids barely heard Mary Anne. Myriah went after the ball, caught it, ran to home plate, where Gabbie was still standing, and tagged her sister. "You're out!" she cried.

Mary Anne told me later that the game went on in pretty much the same way the game at my house had gone. Jamie ducked all balls, whether he was supposed to be hitting them or catching them. Gabbie wasn't too bad at hitting and catching - but she didn't understand much concerning the game of softball. (What can you expect from a two-and-a-half-year-old?) Nina, lice Hannie Papadakis, tried hard, but wasn't particularly coordinated. Then there was Myriah. She was actually a pretty good player.

"Why don't you try out for Little League?" Mary Anne wanted to know.

"Can't. I'm old enough for T-ball, but not Little League."

"Would you like to play on a real team?" Mary Anne asked.

"Sure!" replied Myriah, and Mary Anne was

surprised when the rest of the kids said, "Sure!" as well.

"Really?" she asked. "You too, Gabbers?"

Gabbie nodded solemnly.

"Well," said Mary Anne, and she told them about my softball team.

The kids were enthusiastic, especially Myriah. They spent the rest of the afternoon hitting balls (or ducking them) - and then rescuing them from the jaws of Chewbacca, who had long ago given up on the rawhide.

Chapter 5.

I always step onto the Rodowskys' front porch with a feeling of trepidation. (I like the word trepidation. It means alarm or dread, but somehow it seems less awful than those words.) The reason for the trepidation is, well, you know - Jackie, our very own walking disaster. Things happen to him. Sometimes things just happen because he's around. Imagine Paddington Bear. Imagine the little girl Eloise from the book called Eloise. Then put all that energy and mischief inside a character as nice as Charlie Bucket from Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. That's Jackie Rodowsky.

Because Jackie is basically a nice kid, I like to sit for him. But because I never know what's going to happen, I feel that trepidation. I feel it the whole time I'm at the Rodowskys'. It comes over me as soon as I reach their house, and it leaves the moment my sitting job is over.

I rang the Rodowskys' bell.

Mrs. Rodowsky answered the door, gave me the usual instructions, and began to put her coat on.

"Where are the boys?" I asked.

Mrs. Rodowsky smiled. "They're in the rec room," she said, lowering her voice. "Peek down there."

I peeked. The room looked ready for a party. Streamers crisscrossed the ceiling, and bunches of balloons hung here and there. The boys were busy blowing up more balloons and opening packages of paper plates and cups and party favors.