Ann Martin: Jessi Ramsey, Petsitter

Poor Mary Anne has to keep track of everybody's schedules (my ballet lessons, Claud's art classes, dentist appointments, etc.) and all of our baby-sitting jobs. When a call comes in, it's up to Mary Anne to see who's free. Mary Anne is neat and careful and hasn't made a scheduling mistake yet.

This is a miracle.

Dawn, our treasurer, is responsible for collecting dues from us club members every Monday, and for keeping enough money in the treasury so that we can pay Charlie, Kristy's oldest brother, to drive her to and from meetings, since she lives so far away now. The money is spent on other things, too, but we make sure we always have enough for Charlie. What else is the money spent on? Well, fun things, like food for club slumber parties. Also new materials for Kid-Kits.

I guess I haven't told you about Kid-Kits yet. They were one of Kristy's ideas. A Kid-Kit is a box (we each have one) that's been decorated and filled with our old toys and books and games, as well as a few new items such as crayons or sticker books. We bring them with us on some of our jobs and kids love them. The kits make us very popular baby-sitters! Anyway, every now and then we

need treasury money to buy new crayons or something for the kits.

The last thing you need to know about is our club notebook. The notebook is like a diary. In it, each of us sitters has to write up every single job she goes on. Then we're supposed to read it once a week to find out what's been going on. Even though most of us don't like writing in the notebook, I have to admit that it's helpful. When I read it, I find out what's happening with the kids our club sits for, and also about baby-sitting problems and how they were handled. (The club notebook was Kristy's idea, of course.)

"Order, order!" Kristy was saying.

I had just settled myself on the floor.

"Wait a sec," Claudia interrupted. "Doesn't anyone want something to eat?"

Remember I said Claudia likes junk food? Well, that may have been an understatement. Claud loves junk food. She loves it so much that her parents have told her to stop eating so much of it. But Claud can't. She buys it anyway and then hides it in her room. At the moment, she's got a bag of potato chips under her bed, a package of licorice sticks in a drawer of her jewelry box, and a bag of M&M's in the pencil case in her notebook. She's very generous with it. She offers it around at the

beginning of each meeting since we're starved by this time of day. And we eat up. (Well, sometimes Dawn doesn't since she's so into health food, but she will eat crackers or pretzels.)

"Ahem," said Kristy.

"Oh, come on. You know you'll eat something if I get it out," Claudia told her. Claudia usually stands up to Kristy.

"All right." Kristy sounded as cross as a bear, but this didn't prevent her from eating a handful of M&M's.

When the candy had been passed around, Kristy said, "Now are we ready?"

(She sure can be bossy.)

"Ready, Ms. Thomas," Claudia replied in a high, squeaky voice.

Everyone laughed, even Kristy.

We talked about some club business, and then the phone began to ring. The first call was from Mrs. Newton. She's the mother of Jamie and Lucy, two of the club's favorite sitting charges. Mary Anne scheduled Dawn for the job. Then the phone rang twice more. Jobs for Mal and Mary Anne. I was sort of relieved that so far, none of the jobs had been for next week. I was still looking forward to my week off.

Ring, ring.

Another call.

Claudia answered the phone. She listened for a moment and then began to look confused. "Mrs. Mancusi?" she said.

Kristy glanced up from the notebook, which she'd been reading. "Mrs. Mancusi?" she whispered to the rest of us. "She doesn't have any kids."

We listened to Claud's end of the conversation, but all she would say were things like, "Mm-hmm," and "Oh, I see," and "Yes, that's too bad." Then, after a long pause, she said, "Well, this is sort of unusual, but let me talk to the other girls and see what they say. Someone will call you back in about five minutes. . . . Yes. . . . Okay. . . . Okay, 'bye."

Claudia hung up the phone and looked up from some notes she'd been making. She found the rest of us staring at her.

"Well?" said Kristy.

"Well, the Mancusis need a pet-sitter," Claudia began.

"A pet -sitter?" Kristy practically jumped down Claud's throat.

"Yeah, let me explain," Claud rushed on. "They're going on vacation next week. They've had this really nice vacation planned for months now. And you know all those animals they have?"

"Their house is a zoo," Mary Anne spoke up.

"I know/' Claud replied. "All I could hear in the background was barking and squawking and chirping."

"What's the point?" asked Kristy rudely.

"Sheesh," said Claud. "Give me a minute. The point is that the Mancusis had a pet-sitter all lined up and he just called and canceled."

"That is so irresponsible," commented Mal-lory.

"I know," agreed Claud. "Now the Mancusis can't take their vacation, not unless they find a pet-sitter."

"Oh, but Claudia," wailed Kristy, "how could you even think about another pet-sitting job?"

"Another one?" I asked.

"Yeah," said Kristy. "The very first job I got when we started the club — my first job offer at our first official meeting — was for two Saint Bernard dogs, and it was a disaster."

I couldn't help giggling. "It was?" I said. "What happened?"

"Oh, you name it. The dogs, Pinky and Buffy, were sweet, but they were big and gallumphing and they liked making mischief. What an afternoon that was! Anyway, I swore we would never pet-sit again."

"But Kristy," protested Claudia, "if the Man-cusis can't find a pet-sitter, they'll have to cancel their dream vacation."

Kristy sighed. "All right. Suppose one of us was crazy enough to want to pet-sit — don't the Mancusis need someone every day?"

"Yes, for a few hours every day next week, plus the weekend before and the weekend after. They're leaving this Saturday and returning Sunday, a week later."

"Well, that kills it," said Kristy. "I don't want any of my sitters tied up for a week."

At that, I heard Dawn mutter something that sounded like . . . well, it didn't sound nice. And I saw her poke Mary Anne, who mouthed "bossy" to her. Then Mal whispered to me, "Who does Kristy think she is? The queen?"

All of which gave me the courage to say (nervously), "Um, you know how the Brad-docks are going away?"

"Yes?" replied the other club members, turning toward me.

"Well . . . well, um, my ballet school is closed next week, too. Remember? So I'm available. For the whole week. I could take care of the Mancusis' pets. I mean, if they want me to." (So much for my week of freedom.^

"Perfect!" exclaimed Claud. "I'll call them right now."

"Not so fast!" interrupted Kristy. "I haven't given my permission yet."

"Your permission?" cried the rest of us.

Kristy must have realized she'd gone too far then. Her face turned bright red.

"Listen, just because you had a bad pet-sitting experience — " Dawn began.

"I know, I know. I'm sorry." Kristy turned toward me. "Go ahead," she said. "You may take the job."

"Thank you."

Claud called Mrs. Mancusi back, as promised. As you can probably imagine, Mrs. Mancusi was delighted to have a sitter. She asked to speak to me. After thanking me several times, she said, "When could you come by? My husband and I will have to show you how to care for the animals. There are quite a lot of them, you know."

After some discussion, we decided on Friday evening, right after supper. It was the only time the Mancusis and I were all free. Since the Mancusis live near my house, I knew that would be okay with my parents.

I hung up the phone. "Gosh, the Mancusis sure are going to pay me well."