Ann Martin - Jessi's Babysitter

"The thickness of the plants."

"Oh, yeah. Boy, I've got a lot of work to do."

Charlotte assembled crayons, a pencil, a ruler, graph paper, and plain white paper on the kitchen table. Stacey sat down next to her to watch her work. But before Charlotte began, she jumped up, exclaiming, "Oops! I forgot! I've got to take Jar Number One upstairs. It needs its music."

Charlotte carried the jar up the stairs, and soon Stacey could hear a few strains of what she thought was some music by Vivaldi. (Mrs. McGill loves Vivaldi.) Then Charlotte must have closed her door, because the music dissolved into silence.

For awhile after that, Stacey and Charlotte

sat at the kitchen table. Char worked hard, occasionally asking Stacey for suggestions or help. Then, after awhile, Charlotte glanced up, looking like the timid child she used to be.

"Stacey?"

"Yeah, Char?"

"Do you think that maybe — I mean, if you have time — you could come to the science fair? Only if you want to. It's just a kids' thing. I know that. And you're thirteen, but — "

"Charlotte, you know I'll be there. If you want me there, I'll come. Even if you hadn't invited me, I probably would have come, anyway. You're like my sister. I'm interested in everything you do."

"Thank you, Stacey!" exclaimed Charlotte, jumping up to give her a hug.

Charlotte settled down to work again, and Stacey admitted to me later that she couldn't help thinking that Char's project for the science fair was the best one she'd heard of so far. It was a real experiment. Although if Jack-ie's volcano really did erupt, that would be pretty exciting.

A few moments later, the doorbell rang.

"Do you want me to get it?" asked Stacey.

"Please," said Charlotte. "A half an hour's up, and I've got to switch jars and music right now."

So Stacey answered the door. Guess who was standing on the stoop. Becca — my own sister and Charlotte's best friend.

"Come on in," said Stacey.

Becca stepped inside, looking glum.

"What's wrong?" Stacey asked.

"Everything," mumbled Becca. "Where's Charlotte?"

"Upstairs. She'll be right down, though. She's working on her project for the science fair."

"Oh, yeah. The plants."

Charlotte trotted downstairs then. "Hi," she said. "Well, Jar Number Two is listening to Duran Duran." She paused. "Becca? What's the matter?"

"Oh, it's Aunt Dictator," said Becca, flopping into a chair in the living room.

Char and Stacey couldn't help giggling. "Aunt Dictator?"

"Yeah. That's what Jessi calls Aunt Cecelia."

"What's your aunt doing?" asked Charlotte.

"What isn't she doing!" Becca countered. "You know, Aunt Cecelia is supposed to be a baby-sitter, but she sure could take some lessons. She isn't like you guys at all," she said to Stacey. (Stacey guessed that "you guys" meant the members of the BSC.) "She never listens to Jessi and me; she just orders us

around. And she doesn't believe us. She doesn't trust us, either. It was like when I got stranded on the island with Dawn and everyone the weekend Mama and Daddy left Jessi in charge. When Jessi called Aunt Cecelia to tell her about the emergency, Aunt Cecelia raced to Stoneybrook and took charge like Jessi didn't even exist.

"And," Becca went on, "she thinks she's so great with Squirt, but she isn't. She leaves him in his playpen when he should be walking around exploring things, or playing with me.

"You know what else is weird? Jessi and I have been playing all these practical jokes on Aunt Dictator, and she hasn't said a word about them."

"What kinds of jokes?" Charlotte wanted to know.

Becca explained, and Charlotte giggled helplessly.

"We figure," said Becca, "that if we do enough awful things, Aunt Cecelia will get fed up and leave."

"You mean, make like a tree and leave?" said Charlotte.

The sillies were setting in, Stacey could tell. But she let the girls go ahead and plot Aunt Cecelia's demise. She didn't think Becca would carry out any of their ideas, and she thought

that taking imaginary action might make Becca feel better.

The girls discussed: tying Aunt Cecelia to a chair and telling the Ramseys that robbers had done it; hiding Aunt Cecelia's hair combs, so that she couldn't look perfect one morning; dressing up as Avon ladies and selling Aunt Cecelia jars full of water; coloring Squirt's beautiful curls with wash-out green dye; and other things bound to drive poor Aunt Cecelia crazy.

Stacey laughed along with the girls, but she was worried. There are serious problems in the Ramsey household, she thought.

Chapter 10.

"I wonder what the world's record for a gum chain is," said Mal thoughtfully as she and I worked dutifully at ours.

"I don't know." I replied. "Maybe we could look it up in the Guinness book under 'Gum Chain, Longest.' "

It was a Wednesday afternoon. Mal and I were in Claudia's room, waiting for a BSC meeting to begin.

"Claud?" I asked. "Do you have the Guinness book here?"

"Yes, but I don't know where it is," she replied. She was separating the contents of a package of Neccos, pushing all the violet-colored ones aside. Claud doesn't like purple Neccos.

"Oh," said Mal. "Well, I'll look it up at home. You know, if by some chance our gum chain beats the record, then I think we should

try to braid the world's longest friendship bracelet next."

"But what would be the point?" I asked. "No one could wear it."

"So what? No one can eat a five hundred-pound pancake, but people are always making things like that, trying to set records."

"I know," I replied, "but five hundred people could each eat a piece of the pancake," I pointed out.

"Would you want to eat something that four hundred and ninety-nine other people were touching? And that had probably been buttered by an army of people skating across it with slabs of butter strapped to the bottoms of their shoes?"

"You guys! Cut it out!" exclaimed Mary Anne, looking absolutely green as she entered club headquarters and heard that last comment.

"Yeah, Mal. What's gotten into you?" I asked. "You'd think Aunt Dictator lived at ·your house."

"Nothing. I'm just pointing out to you guys that — "

"Order! Order! It is now five-thirty," Kristy interrupted.

I looked around. The seven of us were as-

sembled in our usual places. Since it was a Wednesday, Stacey didn't have to collect dues.

"Any club business?" asked Kristy, as she always does.

"Logan baby-sat for the Arnold twins and Marilyn accidentally locked herself in the basement," said Mary Anne. "Logan had to rescue her through the outside cellar door."

We giggled.

"I know it sounds funny," Mary Anne continued, "but we should remember how that basement door works."

"Right," agreed Kristy. "Everybody, make a mental note of that."

(Claudia pretended to write something across her forehead.)

The phone rang then and Dawn answered it. "Hi, Mrs. Perkins. ... A week from Saturday? I'll have Mary Anne check, and I'll call you right back."

Dawn hung up the phone. "The Perkinses have a big, fancy party to go to. They need someone to baby-sit a week from Saturday," she told Mary Anne. "It'll be a late night."

Mary Anne was already looking through the record book. "Hmmm," she said. "Believe it or not, we're all busy. We'll have to call Logan or Shannon. I'll take care of it."

In the end, Kristy's friend Shannon wound up with the job for the Perkinses. Then the BSC members waited for the phone to ring again. It didn't. So we began to talk.

"You guys should see Mar go's shadow box for the science fair," said Mal. "I want her to win, and I'm helping her when she asks for help, but mostly she's working on her own. I don't know what kind of research she's doing, but she seems to have decided that Barbie, Ken, and Skipper inhabit the moon, and that they dress in pink and silver sparkly outfits, kind of like the ones that the Jetsons used to wear. You know, on that old cartoon show?"