Ann Martin - Jessi's Gold Medal

This time it was a client. We managed to calm down and assign the job. After Claudia hung up, the room became quiet — a perfect time for me to say what I'd been waiting to say.

"Guys, I have a great idea," was how I began. "Yesterday I was watching the Olympic trials with Becca, and she was so excited about them, and I told her about the SMS Sports Festival, and she said she wished the Olym-

pics were in Stoneybrook. Well, she looked really sad, and at first I couldn't figure out why. Then I realized she was seeing all this exciting stuff on TV, then hearing about my event — and what was there for her? Nothing. So I thought, maybe we could organize something for the kids. You know, a Mini-Olympics or something."

Finally, I said it. Half of me expected everyone to groan, and half expected everyone to love it.

The second half was right.

"What a fantastic idea," Dawn said.

"We could invite all our charges," Mary Anne said. "It could be a way of thanking our clients for the jobs they give us."

Kristy nodded. From the look in her eye, I could tell the idea sponge was working. "We could have a three-legged race, a potato-sack race, a basketball-shooting contest ..."

"Maybe some silly events, too," Claudia suggested. "Like a race where everyone has to make a funny face, or a grapefruit throwing contest."

"Ew," Mallory said.

"We could have an award for each kid," Dawn said, "so no one will feel left out."

Everyone starting throwing in suggestions, and you know what? That was all we talked

about for the rest of the meeting (except for when we took two or three more phone calls). By the time the meeting was over, I felt fantastic. It looked like the Mini-Olympics was going to happen — and it was my idea!

Chapter 6.

Let me explain something. When Kristy writes "I hardly have to do anything," it's not really true. She always gets involved with her kids — playing softball, hide-and-seek, tag, you name it. She's a great sitter, especially with Tier own brothers and sisters.

So when Kristy says she had a rough time, you know it was rough.

The day started out perfectly — clear and sunny. Kristy's mom and stepdad had gone furniture shopping and her older brothers were out with friends. So Kristy was spending a few hours with David Michael and Karen (they're both seven), Andrew (four), and Emily Michelle (almost three).

She did just what she wrote — let them loose in the yard. And you should see the Brewers' yard. Picture a football field with a mansion stuck in the middle of it. Well, maybe I'm exaggerating, but not by much. Anyway, in the back is a great climbing tree and a playground set, and in the garage are tons of outdoor games.

Practically the whole neighborhood was outside, and soon a bunch of kids came over to play. So Kristy was watching not only her own four charges, but Linny and Hannie Papa-dakis, Bill and Melody Korman, and Scott and Timmy Hsu.

Ten kids — with just Kristy to baby-sit!

Well, Kristy was delighted. (Don't forget, she's the one who organized an actual softball team.)

Then came the Big Mistake.

"Hey, guys," she called out. "Come over here. I have a surprise for you." (An old babysitting trick — if you want kids to come running, tell them you have a surprise.)

They each yelled some version of: "Surprise? What? What is it?" And, of course, they came running.

"Have you guys been watching the Olympics?" asked Kristy.

There was a chorus of "Yeahs" and "yeses" and "uh-huhs."

"Well," Kristy continued, "my friend Jessi had an idea at the last Baby-sitters Club meeting. How would you guys like to have a Mini-Olympics of your own — just for kids?"

"YEEEEAAAAAAHHH!"

The response nearly burst Kristy's eardrums.

"Okay, okay!" she said. "Now, we have some ideas for events, but why don't you tell me what you'd like to do?"

"Horse-racing!" Melody shouted.

"It has to be simple," Kristy said. "You know, like three-legged races."

"Yeah! Three-legged races!" David Michael said.

"A basketball-shooting contest!" Timmy said.

"I once went to a picnic where they had potato-sack races/' Hannie said.

"Roller-skating races!" Melody said.

"Long jump!" Scott yelled.

"Volley ball!" Karen said.

"Magic show!" Linny shouted.

"There are no magic shows in the Olympics!" Hannie said, rolling her eyes.

"Weight lifting!" Bill suggested.

"Whoa, whoa!" Kristy said. "I can't remember all of these. Let me go inside and get a pen and paper. Meanwhile, if you guys want to be in shape, you better start training!"

Kristy ran inside, and by the time she came back out, the backyard was in chaos.

David Michael and Linny were both trying to do chin-ups on tree branches. Timmy was doing push-ups. Melody was doing jumping jacks. Hannie and Karen were setting up croquet wickets. Scott and Bill were racing each other around the yard. Andrew was dragging one of Watson's old dumbbells out of the garage.

Kristy had to laugh. They were taking their Olympics so seriously.

"What's this?" Kristy asked Hannie and Karen. "Olympic croquet?"

"No, it's an obstacle course," Hannie replied. "We're going to run around these — left, right, left, right — then jump over the plastic bench, then climb the tree to the second branch, then come down, then run to the driveway and jump over it."

"Wow," Kristy said. "Hey, did you guys know that I'm going to run an obstacle course, too?"

Hannie's eyes lit up. "Maybe you can practice with us!"

"Sure!"

Oh, did I mention what happened when Kristy challenged Alan Gray? Well, it worked exactly the way she thought it would. She did it in the cafeteria and his friends started to tease him. Then he got red in the face and accepted.

But that wasn't all. Alan started bragging to his friends in gym class, his teacher heard him — and guess what? Alan's teacher got together with Kristy's teacher, and they decided it would be fun to have a special series of "spectator events" — one-on-one races to be held throughout the festival. And Alan and Kristy were the first two people they asked.

Well, Alan wasn't crazy about the idea, but

he had to say yes when Kristy agreed. So they officially became the first two participants in "The Great SMS Coed Obstacle Challenge"! I was almost as excited about that as I was about my own event.

Back to Kristy's backyard. The kids were having a blast. Kristy raced with them, coached them in basketball shooting, set up a volleyball net, showed them how to roller skate, set up a refreshment table with juices and water, broke up fights. . . .

Whew. I'm glad I wasn't sitting that day. I wouldn't have survived in one piece.

At first Kristy didn't mind it. She was having a lot of fun. But after an hour or so, she began wishing someone would come home to help her out.

And that was when Andrew started sobbing.

Kristy turned around and saw him lying on the grass. She ran to him, thinking he'd hurt himself badly. "Andrew, what happened?" she asked. "Are you okay?"

"Ahhh caaaa dooo aaaaathing!" he whined.

Kristy lifted him off the ground and put his head on her shoulder. "All right..." she said in a soothing voice. "Now, can you tell me what happened, slowly?"

"I — I — I — can't do — do — anything!"

Andrew said, hiccuping his words between sobs.

"What do you mean?" Kristy asked.

"I — I can't do any push-ups, I'm slower than — than everybody, my legs aren't long enough to jump over things." He choked back a couple of sniffles. "Everybody's better than me!"

Part of Kristy wanted to say, "That's all? That's what you got me so scared about?" but us baby-sitters know better than that (well, most of the time). She gave him a big hug and said, "You really feel sad, huh?"