Ann Martin - Jessi's Wish

parting with our money, but dues are important. Stacey puts the money in our treasury (a manila envelope) and doles it out as needed. We spend dues money on lots of things. We use it to buy more items for the Kid-Kits. We use it to help pay Claud's phone bill. We use it to pay Charlie Thomas to drive Kristy to and from meetings now that she no longer lives in the neighborhood. And sometimes we use it for something fun, such as food for a BSC sleepover. Stacey is a good treasurer because she's an excellent math student. (She actually likes math.)

Dawn is called an alternate officer, which is like being an understudy in a play. She knows the duties and responsibilities of every club member, so she can fill in if someone has to miss a meeting. (When Stacey temporarily moved back to New York, Dawn became the treasurer. She gladly gave up that job when Stacey returned. She couldn't stand our grumbling each time she collected dues. Besides, she hates math.)

Guess what Mallory and I are in charge of. Nothing. Well, I don't really mean nothing. We're good baby-sitters. It's just that because we're eleven, and the unfortunate product of overprotective parents, we're not allowed to sit at night (unless we're sitting for our own brothers and sisters). Mostly, we sit after

school and on weekend days. Because of this, we are the club's junior officers. Sometimes I feel a little unimportant since when Mal or I miss a meeting, Dawn doesn't have to do anything to replace us. However, Kristy assures us that we're necessary. Without Mal and me to.take on so many daytime jobs, she says, she and the older club members would have to turn down some of the evening jobs.

I know that makes us sound busy, and we are. (Busy, I mean.) We're busy enough so that we had to sign on those two associate members I told you about earlier. An associate member doesn't come to club meetings but is a reliable sitter we can call on in case a job is offered to the club that none of us full-time members can take. You'd think that with seven people and seven schedules, that wouldn't happen. But it does. Occasionally. And when it does, we offer the job to one of our associates. (That way, we don't have to disappoint our clients.) Our associate members are Shannon Kilbourne, a friend of Kristy's who lives in her new neighborhood, and Logan Bruno. Logan is Mary Anne's boyfriend!

This is how a club meeting typically starts. My friends and I trickle into Claud's room between five-fifteen and five-thirty. I usually

arrive dangerously close to five-thirty. That's because often I rush to a club meeting after I've had a ballet lesson in Stamford.

Kristy is always sitting in Claud's director's chair, wearing a visor, a pencil stuck over one ear. This is her Presidential Look. She keeps an eye on the digital alarm clock, which is our official club timepiece. As soon as those numbers turn from 5:29 to 5:30, Kristy is on the case. She sits up straight, trying to appear as tall as possible. Then she says, "Any club business?" This is the clue for Stacey to collect dues (if it's Monday). It's also the time for us to raise questions or to talk about problems. Usually these are baby-sitting questions or problems. But not always.

The day after Becca came home with her sad news about the Kids Club, I was still thinking about Mr. Katz and Ms. Simon. When Kristy said,' "Any club business?" I cleared my throat.

"Yes, Jessi?" said Kristy.

"I've been thinking. You know the Kids Club?" I began. Everyone nodded, so I explained what was happening.

"That's pretty rotten," Kristy commented when I had finished talking.

"Yeah. Nicky and Vanessa are really upset," added Mallory.

"So's Becca," I said. "And that's what I was thinking about. There must be some way to keep the club going."

"I can't believe no one will volunteer to take Ms. Simon's place/' said Dawn.

"Me, neither. . . . But I have this idea."

"What?" asked Mary Anne.

"I could take Ms. Simon's place."

Silence.

"I want to help out/' I began.

"Jessi, what aren't you telling us?" said Kristy.

"My idea. I haven't told you the whole idea yet. This is — oh, all right. I'll just say it. I thought that maybe, instead of baby-sitting for the next month or so, we could do some volunteer work. I'd really like to help with the Kids Club."

I had absolutely no idea how the other members of the BSC were going to react to this. Mal and I don't usually make major suggestions, us being junior members and all. It occurred to me that Kristy might kill me.

I didn't dare look up. But after a few moments of silence, Mal poked me in the ribs. "What?" I asked her. And then I looked up.

Everyone was grinning.

"That," said Stacey, "is a terrific idea. You know what my mom was telling me the other day? She said that a diabetes clinic is going to

open soon in Stoneybrook. And they're looking for kids or teenagers with diabetes who will meet kids who've just been diagnosed, and talk to them and give them advice and stuff. I'd like to do that. I wish someone had talked to me when I first got sick."

"I bet we could all find something to do," said Kristy.

"Maybe I could teach art!" exclaimed Claud.

"What about the club, though?" asked Dawn, frowning. "We can't run the BSC and volunteer, can we? I mean, I want to help out, but . . ."

"We'll think of something," said Kristy, who was obviously too excited to think straight about anything. Her mind was running in a zillion directions. "I wonder if I could help out in the class for special kids at school. Or, remember when we baby-sat for Susan?" (Susan's family lives not far from Claud. Susan has a disorder called autism.) "Maybe I could work with autistic kids somehow. Or, wait! I could tutor! Let's see. What subject am I really good in? Okay, you guys. We have a mission. I call an emergency club meeting for Saturday afternoon. By then, we all should have looked into places that need volunteers."

Wow! I had sent us on a mission!

Chapter 4.

"Thank you for saving my life," said Becca dramatically.

I smiled. "Any time."

"You know what this means?" asked my sister. "It means that now we won't be even until I've saved your life."

"With any luck, it won't need to be saved," I replied.

Goodness. You'd think I'd pulled Becca from a burning building or an overturned car. But this was all I'd done: I'd met Becca at her school after the next meeting of the Kids Club, and I'd talked with Mr. Katz.

"What are you doing here?" asked Becca, when she saw me. She wasn't expecting me, and she usually walks home by herself or with Charlotte after a meeting.

"That's a nice greeting," I answered, but I wasn't really annoyed. "I just want to see Mr. Katz for a few minutes. If you and Char wait

outside, I'll walk home with you."

"Okay," replied Becca, looking puzzled.

I stepped inside the large room where the Kids Club meets. Mr. Katz was busy putting art materials in a cabinet.

"Excuse me?" I said, feeling timid. "Mr. Katz?"

He turned around. "Yes?"

"Um, I'm Jessi Ramsey . . . Becca Ramsey's sister?"

Mr. Katz smiled. "Jessi," he said warmly. "I've heard a lot about you from Becca and Charlotte. And several other students here. You're a baby-sitter?"

"Yes." I explained about the BSC. Then I said, "Becca told me about Ms. Simon. I'm really sorry. I'm sorry about the club, too. Disbanding it would be awful. The kids would be pretty upset."

"Well — "

"So I was wondering," I rushed on. "Could I help out? I know I'm only eleven, and I know I can't take Ms. Simon's place, but I'd like — "

"It's volunteer work, Jessi," Mr. Katz interrupted me. "We don't get paid."

"Oh, that's okay. I mean, I'm used to getting paid when I baby-sit, but this is important to me. And I understand that when Ms. Simon comes home, she'll probably want her job