Ann Martin - Kristy And The Snobs

I shook my head. "No, he couldn't."

David Michael looked at me from around Louie's furry neck. "He's really sick, isn't he?" he asked.

I nodded. Then I turned away before my brother could see me cry.

Chapter 9.

Well, we were all pretty impressed with Stacey and her psychology. Especially since her job at the Snobs' started out as badly as mine had, maybe even worse. This time, when Mrs. McGill had dropped Stacey off at the Delaneys', Mrs. Delaney took Stacey upstairs to the little Snobs' playroom. Amanda and Max, looking gorgeous and immaculate, of course, were standing in the middle of the messiest room Stacey had ever seen. It was even messier than the way the Barretts' house used to look when Dawn first began baby-sitting for the impossible three. There were toys everywhere, and not just big toys, but Tinker Toys, Matchbox cars, and Legos, all mixed in with stuffed animals, board games, dolls, dress-up clothes, you name it. It was toy soup. And Mrs. Delaney asked Stacey, Amanda, and Max to clean it up before they did anything else.

"Well," said Stacey when Mrs. Delaney had left, "let's get this room in shape. Then we can go outside."

"If you want to go outside, then clean it yourself," said Amanda. "We like it messy." She stood back, folded her arms, and glared at Stacey. Max imitated her.

Stacey was prepared for something like this. She pretended to gaze around the room. Then

she said seriously, "You know, you're right. I like a really messy room. In fact, I don't think this room is messy enough. Look at this. A whole set of Lincoln Logs. They're not even on the floor." Stacey poured the Lincoln Logs into the toy soup.

"Hey!" cried Amanda. "What do you think you're doing?"

"Yeah! What are you doing?" added Max.

"You said you like a messy room," Stacey replied. "Well, I do, too." She picked up a stack of construction paper and let it start floating to the floor, piece by piece.

"Quit messing up our room!" shouted Amanda. She held her arms stiffly at her sides and stamped her foot.

"Why?" demanded Stacey, pausing long enough to let the remainder of the paper settle into the toy soup. Then she began scattering puzzle pieces.

"Because," said Max. "That's why."

"I thought you liked a good mess," Stacey went on.

"We do," Amanda began, then hesitated. "But not. . . not this good a mess. Cut it out!"

"I'm just trying to help you guys out," Stacey told her.

"No! I mean . . . we want it clean." Amanda scrambled around, picking up the paper.

"Whoops! You forgot these doll clothes," said Stacey. She dumped out a box of Barbie dresses. Max grabbed them up and shoved them back in the box. "CUT IT OUT!" he screeched.

Before Stacey knew it, the Snobs were cleaning up the room. After a while, Stacey pitched in, but neither Amanda nor Max said a word about it. They just kept glancing at her warily.

When the room was as neat as a pin, the Snobs stood in the doorway to admire their work. Stacey thought they looked pretty proud of themselves, but she knew better than to praise them. After all, they'd been tricked, and they probably knew it.

"Boy, am I thirsty," said Max. "Get me some milk, Stacey."

"Milk?" repeated Stacey. "Okay. And I guess while I'm at it, I'll get some orange juice, some Hawaiian Punch, maybe some iced tea - "

"No, no," Max interrupted her. "Um, that's okay. I'll just get it myself."

"Yeah, we'll get the milk ourselves," added Amanda.

"I'll join you," said Stacey, and followed them downstairs.

Max got a carton of milk out of the Snobs' space-age refrigerator. Stacey watched Amanda take two glasses out of a cabinet, think better

of it, and remove a third for Stacey.

Then Max held the carton out to Stacey. "Pour," he commanded, and Stacey knew he was testing her.

"Okay," said Stacey. But instead of taking the milk carton from Max, she opened a cupboard and began removing glasses and setting them on the table.

"Now what are you doing?" asked Amanda.

"Well, Max just said, 'pour.' He didn't say how much he wanted. I thought I'd better be prepared."

"Oh, never mind." Amanda took the carton crossly from Max and filled two glasses with milk. She hesitated. Then, "Do you want some?" she asked Stacey.

"Yes, please. Half a glass will be fine."

Amanda poured half a glass for Stacey and pushed it across the table to her. The three of them sat down and drank in silence. It wasn't long before Max knocked into his glass, sloshing milk over the sides.

He stared at the puddle on the table. "Wipe it up, Stacey," he commanded.

"Could you finish spilling it first, please?"

"Huh?" said Amanda and Max at the same time.

"Finish spilling it first. You've only spilled some of it. I don't want to have to stand up

and get the sponge now if I'm just going to have to get it again in a few minutes. And by the way, since you like me to clean things up for you so much, you ought to know that I'll be happy to give you a bath later, I'm sure you'll want me to clean you up, as well as everything else."

"That just shows how much you know," said Max, pouting. "I don't want you to give me a bath. I don't want you to clean up anything for me. I'll clean up my own messes. So there."

"Suit yourself," Stacey replied as Max mopped up the spill.

Max not only wiped up the mess, he brushed a few crumbs from the table, carried the sponge and the crumbs back to the sink, dropped the crumbs down the drain, and rinsed the sponge out before returning to the table.

"Thank you," said Stacey.

"You're welcome," replied Max.

"Stacey? What would happen if I asked you to get us some cookies?" ventured Amanda.

"Well, if you said, 'Stacey, could you please get out the Oreo cookies,' I would probably do it, especially if I thought you were going to thank me when I put them on the table. But if you just said, 'Stacey, get us the cookies,'

then I would give you every kind of cookie I could find, because I wouldn't be sure what you meant, and I wouldn't want to have to jump up and get anything else for a person who never says please or thank you."

Amanda nodded thoughtfully.

"Aside from which," added Stacey, "I would feel very, very sorry that you are eight years old and unable to get cookies yourself."

Amanda nodded again. Stacey thought she saw Max hide a smile. Then he said, "I can clean up myself."

"I know," replied Stacey. "I'm glad to see that." She smiled at Max, then turned to Amanda. "Do you want some cookies?"

"No," said Amanda. "I just wanted to find out what would happen if I asked for them."

Stacey certainly hadn't expected that from the Snobs, but Amanda didn't seem to be acting snide or rude. In fact, she looked quite serious.

"You know," said Stacey, "you guys have worked really hard this afternoon. I think we should do something fun for now."

"Like what?" asked Amanda.

"Do you know how to play hopscotch?" asked Stacey.

"Hopscotch is boring," said Amanda.

"It's for girls," added Max witheringly.

"Would you relax? I just asked if you knew how to play. I didn't ask if you wanted to play. Now. Do you know how to play hopscotch?"

"Yes."

"Yes."

"Do you have any chalk?"

"Yes."

"Yes."

"Do your parents let you draw on the driveway with chalk?"

"Yes."

"Yes."

"Good," said Stacey. "Because I'm going to teach you how to play Snail, and it helps to know how to play hopscotch first."

"Snail?" replied Amanda, intrigued. "What's that?"

"It's a very cool game," Stacey replied, "and I guarantee that if you show it to your friends, they will all want to play Snail with you. Now let's put our glasses in the dishwasher and

go-" Without so much as a complaint, Amanda

and Max marched their glasses to the sink, rinsed them out, and put them in the dishwasher. Stacey did the same with her glass.