Ann Martin - Hello, Mallory

"Well, The Nutcracker, of course, at Christmastime, but before that, I think we have some kind of recital. Parts of Swan Lake and other ballets, but not an actual ballet like you're thinking of."

"Can I come see you at Christmas?"

"Of course, if I'm in the ballet."

"You will be. I just know it. I can feel it."

Jessi smiled at me. "Thanks, Mal," she said.

"You know, you're a real friend, a true friend. I didn't think I'd find another true friend after I moved away from Keisha, but I did. I found you."

"This is getting mushy," I said, but I was smiling, too. Maybe Jessi really was going to become my best friend. My first best friend. It felt awfully nice to be sitting in my room, telling each other important things and making each other smile.

The moment was ruined, though, by the sound of feet thundering up the stairs. Above the noise of the feet were shouts of, "Give it! That's mine!"

"It is not!"

"Is too!"

"Is NOT!"

"YES. IT. IS. Give it!"

I ran into the hallway and found Nicky and Mar go tusseling over a green plastic toy.

"Break it up, you guys," I said firmly.

My brother and sister separated, shooting looks at each other that were as lethal as darts.

"You know," I said quietly, taking the toy out of Mar go's hand. "This thing is one of the triplets' Wandering Frog People. It doesn't belong to either of you."

"But —" began Margo.

"But —" began Nicky.

I silenced them by holding up one hand. "I am now going to put this in the triplets' room. Then I order you to go downstairs and catch a dinosaur."

Nicky and Margo looked at each other and began to giggle. Then they clattered down the stairs together.

Jessi smiled as I came back into the bedroom. "You really handled that well/' she told me.

"Thanks," I replied. "I just wish the girls in the Baby-sitters Club could have seen it."

"Well, you don't need them now," Jessi told me. "We've got Kids Incorporated."

"Right."

And just then the phone rang. A job call! "Aughh! I'll get it!" I shrieked. I leaped off my bed and ran into the hall. Then I picked up the phone very sedately. "Hello, Kids Incorporated. . . . Oh, okay. Hang on a sec." I put the phone down. "It's for Vanessa," I whispered to Jessi. Then I yelled down the stairs, "VANESSA! PHONE! And don't stay on too long."

I went back to my room. While we waited for Vanessa to get off the phone, Jessi told me two jokes. One went like this:

Q: What does it mean when you see an elephant walking down the street in a blue shirt?

A: It means his red one is in the wash.

(I knew that one already.) The other joke went like this:

Q: What's black and white and black and white and black and white and black and white?

A: A zebra rolling down a hill.

(I didn't know that one, and it made me giggle.) "I'll have to tell it to my brothers and sisters," I said.

The phone rang again. "Oh, thank goodness Vanessa's off," I cried.

"Can I get it?" asked Jessi.

"Of course," I replied.

"Hello, Kids Incorporated. May I help you?" Jessi said professionally when she'd picked up the phone. "Oh, hi, Mama." Jessi made a face at me as if to say, "It's only my mother," but then she went on, "Oh, really? Sure. . . .Okay. Thanks, Mama. 'Bye." She hung up. "Guess what!" she exclaimed as she bounced back into the room. "Mama just hired us! She needs us to watch Becca and Squirt next Wednesday afternoon while she has her hair done."

"Fantastic!" I cried, and wrote the job in our appointment book.

No sooner had I done that than the phone rang again. "I'll get this one," I said to Jessi. "Wow, busy day."

I sat on the floor in the hall and picked up

the phone. "Hello, Kids Incorporated. May I help you?"

There was silence on the other end of the phone. Then I heard light breathing. I put my hand over the receiver and whispered to Jessi, "I think it's a goof call."

"Say hello again," Jessi suggested.

"Hello? Hello?"

"Is this Mallory?" asked a familiar-sounding voice.

"Yes, it is. Who's this?"

"It's Kristy Thomas."

My heart practically stopped beating. "It's Kristy Thomas," I told Jessi. "You know, the president of the Baby-sitters Club." And then — I have no idea where these words came from, but I found myself speaking them — I said to Kristy, "Need a baby-sitter?"

Jessi giggled.

"No, I do not need a baby-sitter," Kristy replied hotly.

"Well, then. How may I help you?"

"You may tell me if you're holding a meeting of something called Kids Incorporated right now," said Kristy.

"Yes, we are."

"And you hold your meetings every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday afternoon from five-thirty until six?"

"We plan to."

"Copy-cats."

That made me pause. Jessi and I were being copy-cats. But then I remembered the awful meetings of the Baby-sitters Club that I'd attended.

"Well, you guys wouldn't let me join your club," I pointed out.

"We tried to let you," said Kristy. "But we have to be very careful about who joins. We need experienced, reliable sitters. You can't take chances where little kids are concerned."

"But I am experienced and reliable," I said.

"You didn't pass the test."

"That test was unfair. Even a doctor couldn't have passed it."

I heard Kristy sigh. Then she said, "I don't think your club is going to work. There aren't enough of you. You don't have any experience. You'll never get jobs."

"For your information, we've already gotten two," I told her.

"You have?"

"Yes. Now, if you don't have anything else to say, I'm going to get off the phone so some more calls can come in."

"Fine," said Kristy. "Good-bye."

"Good-bye." I nearly slammed the receiver

down, but I stopped myself in time. That would have been too rude. Even for Kristy Thomas.

"What was that all about?" Jessi wanted to know.

I told her.

"You know something?" said Jessi. "I have a funny feeling we haven't heard the last of the Baby-sitters Club."

Chapter 12.

"Hey, Squirt! Hey, Squirt! Over here! Oh, what a good boy!"

Squirt Ramsey had just taken his first tentative steps all by himself, and Jessi and Becca and I were there to see him. Our sitting job at the Ramseys' was on a sunny Wednesday afternoon, and the four of us were out in the front yard. Squirt was the center of attention and loving it. He grinned, then blew a raspberry at Becca.

"Okay, Squirt. Stand up. Try again!" said Becca encouragingly. She pulled Squirt to his feet, waited until he was standing steadily, then let go of him.

"Come here! You can do it!" Jessi called, her arms outstretched.

''Walk to Jessi, Squirt," Becca added.

Step, step, step, step, step, step. Squirt's baby shoes plodded through the grass until — thump — he landed on his bottom.

"Six steps! Six steps, Jessi!" cried Becca. "That's Squirt's new record!"

This time I pulled Squirt to his feet. "Okay, let 'er rip," I said, and Squirt headed for Becca. But he only took four steps before he fell. He went down on his hands and knees. We all expected him to cry, but he came up laughing.

Becca began to giggle. "You are so goofy, Squirt," she said.

"Becca, maybe Squirt's getting tired of walking," Jessi suggested.

"Could I push him around in his stroller?" asked Becca. "I'd stay on the sidewalk and the driveway. I wouldn't go on the grass."

"Sure," replied Jessi. "That's fine. I'll go get the stroller for you."

Jessi disappeared into the garage and returned a few moments later with Squirf s stroller. "Here you go," she said to Becca.

"Thanks!" Becca heaved Squirt awkwardly into the stroller and began walking him proudly down the driveway.

"Becca is awfully good with him," I pointed out, as Jessi and I watched them from the front steps.