Ann Martin - Jessi's Wish

Jessi's Wish

Ann M. Martin

Chapter 1.

"Whing, whing. Whing, whing." That's Squirt-talk. It means, "Swing, swing. Swing, swing." Squirt is my baby brother. He doesn't say many words yet, but he loves to swing, so he made up a word for that pretty quickly.

I am Jessica Ramsey, known as Jessi. I'm eleven years old. My family and I live inSto-neybrook,Connecticut , a small town. We're sort of newcomers, since we arrived near the beginning of this school year, when I was starting sixth grade. I have a mom and a dad; a sister, Rebecca; and of course Squirt. Both of my parents work. They like their jobs a lot. In fact, Dad likes his so much that when his company told him he was being transferred to the branch office inStamford,Connecticut , he picked up and moved us Ramseys to Stoney-brook, which is nearStamford . (We used to live inNew Jersey .)

Rebecca is eight. Just as I go by the nickname Jessi, she goes by the nickname Becca. Becca is a neat little sister. She has a sense of humor and a good imagination, although she's shy. Sometimes I think she's too sensitive. Maybe she needs to develop a thicker skin. On the other hand, if she weren't so sensitive, she might not be so kind and thoughtful. Here's an example of what makes Becca special. You know how most kids participate in some kind of after-school activity? Like sports or dance lessons or Brownies or Cub Scouts? Well, when Becca decided to try an activity for the first time, she joined the Kids-Can-Do-Any-thing Club at her school, Stoneybrook Elementary. The club (which the members refer to simply as the Kids Club) is for boys and girls ages eight, nine, and ten, and its purpose is to ... help others. The kids think of ways to help out in the community. Then the two teachers, who volunteer their time to run the club, help the kids carry out their plans. The kids have done all sorts of things. They cleaned up the trash in an empty lot so the mayor could put a park there. They collected food for people who wouldn't have had a Thanksgiving otherwise. And now they were working on a toy drive. They were collecting new toys to give to the children's ward at the

hospital. Becca always comes home from a Kids Club meeting with a huge smile on her face.

There are two other members of our household. One is Misty, our hamster. The other is Aunt Cecelia. She moved in to watch Squirt and to give us a hand when Mama went back to work. Becca and 1 used to call her Aunt Dictator. That was right after she moved in, when she didn't really understand my family. She was so strict and mean. But now she is much nicer, and we all get along pretty well. The one thing 1 don't like about Aunt Cecelia is that she still seems to think she's my babysitter. And I'm already a baby-sitter! Before Aunt Cecelia came, 1 was always taking care of Becca and Squirt. Now 1 don't have the chance very often. Which is a shame because 1 love to baby-sit and (sorry for bragging) I'm really good at it. I'm good enough to be part of a business called the Baby-sitters Club.

Today, though, I was sitting. It was a weekday afternoon. Mama and Daddy were at work. And Aunt Cecelia had made plans with some friends. So I was in charge of Squirt. And as soon as Becca returned from her Kids Club meeting I would be in charge of her, too.

Squirt had stopped singing "Whing, whing." In fact, he held his arms toward me.

That meant he wanted to get out of the swing. I lifted him up and set him on the ground near our swing set.

"Come on, Squirt. Walk to me!" My brother is beginning to toddle around. It's a good thing he wears about nineteen diapers. They provide a nice cushion for when he suddenly sits on his bottom, which happens about every ten wobbly steps he takes.

"Da!" cried Squirt, and hurtled himself into my arms.

I heard a clank in our garage then and realized that Becca had come home from school. (The clank was the sound of the kickstand on her bicycle hitting the cement floor.) A few moments later, she rounded the corner into our backyard.

"Hi, Becca!" I called,

"Hi." Becca's eyes were downcast. She didn't smile. She didn't even greet Squirt, whom she loves as much as I do. (In case you're wondering, Squirt is not my brother's real name. His name is John Philip Ramsey, Jr. But when he was born in the Oakley,New Jersey , hospital, he was the smallest baby in the nursery. It was the hospital staff who first called him Squirt, and the name has stuck, even though Squirt isn't much of a squirt anymore.)

"Is something wrong?" I asked Becca. "Something with the toy drive?"

Becca dropped her schoolbag on the ground and sat on the end of the slide. "No," she replied, "the toy drive is going really well. Bellair's gave us one hundred dollars' worth of new toys." (Bellair's is Stoneybrook's department store.)

"That's great!" I exclaimed. "So why do you look like you just lost your best fr — ?" 1 stopped talking. Maybe Becca had just lost her best friend. Maybe she'd had a fight with Charlotte Johanssen. Having a fight with a friend is never fun, but for Becca it would be a crushing blow. First of all, she doesn't make friends easily. Second of all, moving to Sto-neybrook was difficult for my family; not just because of who we left behind inNew Jersey (our relatives and good friends), but because not everyone in Stoneybrook accepted us in the beginning. That was because my family is black, and only a few black families live in Stoneybrook. People thought we were "different." But now we've settled in and made friends. However — had something happened between Becca and Charlotte?

"Did you and Char have a fight?" 1 asked.

Becca looked shocked. "A fight?" she squeaked.

"Well, you're upset about something."

"Yes, but not Char. Or the toy drive. It's the Kids Club." Becca sat on the ground next to me, where I was playing with Squirt. "We might not be able to have the club anymore. We might have to stop it."

"How come?"

"Because Ms. Simon's husband is going on a really long trip, and she decided to go with him. So she has to leave school for awhile. She can't find anyone who'll take her place at the club, and Mr. Katz doesn't think he can run the club by himself." (Ms. Simon and Mr. Katz are the two teachers who volunteer their time with the Kids Club.)

"Becca, that's too bad," I said.

"I know." Becca's voice wavered and her lower lip quivered.

"Are you sure that's the only reason you're upset?" I asked, frowning.

My sister didn't answer me for a long time. When she did, her eyes were filled with tears. "You know what Vanessa Pike told me today?" she asked.

"What?" (Vanessa is another Kids Club member. She's a year older than Becca.)

"That one of the girls in the hospital who'll be getting toys from our drive used to be a club member."

"Well, that's nice. She'll — " I started to say.

"No! It isn't nice at all!" Becca interrupted me. "That girl is nine, like Vanessa. Her name is Danielle Roberts, and she's been in the hospital ever since last summer because she has leukemia. You know what that is?"

"Yes," I said softly. "It's cancer of the blood. Sort of. I mean, I think it's cancer of the things in your body that form blood."

"Right," said Becca. "Cancer. And she's only a year older than me."

"That's awful," I agreed. "But you know what? I'm pretty sure that lots of kinds of cancer can be cured now. Especially leukemia."

"Really?"

"Yup. I mean, it's still a terrible disease to have, but lots of kids recover from it these days. There are so many new kinds of medicine and treatments. I bet Danielle — "

Becca interrupted me again. "Then how come she's still in the hospital? She's been there a long time."

"She's busy getting better. I didn't say if s easy to fight cancer."

Becca nodded. Her eyes overflowed.

I put my arms around her. "I'm sorry you're upset," I said. Then I added, "It's scary to