Ann Martin - Good Bye Stacey, Good Bye

"Okay." I took a sweater from off the pile of clothes I'd outgrown. "What do you guys think? Forty dollars?"

"Forty!" screeched Claudia. "Are you kidding?"

"Well, Mom must have paid a lot for it, and it's only a year old. Forty dollars is a steal."

"Not at a yard sale it isn't," said Mary Anne.

"Are you sure?" asked Dawn.

"Dawn, have you ever been to a yard sale?" asked Kristy.

"No. People in California don't have yard sales."

"Well, trust me; you put a forty-dollar tag on that sweater, and our customers will laugh us right out of the yard."

After a whole lot of haggling, my friends talked me down to $3.50.1 was stunned. "How are we going to earn any money?" I asked.

"We will," Kristy insisted. "You'll see."

Finally, we got the hang of how much we could charge for things, so we divided up the items and set to work separately. The pricing went quickly that way. We'd gone through maybe a third of the stuff when, very slowly, Kristy raised her head and looked around at the rest of us. "Heyyy," she said softly in a way I knew meant she'd just had another one of her brilliant business ideas.

"What?" we asked.

"I have an idea."

(I knew it!)

"Let's make this sale more than just a regular yard sale. Let's sell lemonade, too."

"And how about those great brownies I can bake?" suggested Claudia.

"And — and handmade stuff," I suggested.

"Like potholders and scarves," said Mary Anne.

"What about babies from my spider plants?" said Dawn.

"Yeah!" cried the others.

"Oh, boy!" I exclaimed. "This yard sale is going to go down in yard-sale history as the best ever!"

"Stellar," agreed Kristy.

Chapter 9.

Interesting? Was Kristy kidding? Her babysitting job was so scary and weird that I get goosebumps all over whenever I think about it. The afternoon started off with about as much pandemonium as we usually find at the Pikes' house. After all, there were Kristy, Andrew, Karen, David Michael (Kristy's youngest brother, whom she was also supposed to be watching), Boo-Boo (Watson's cat), and Shannon (David Michael's puppy). Then Amanda and Max Delaney and Hannie and Linny Papadakis dropped by to play.

Let me just remind you about all those kids. Karen and Andrew are six and four, and David Michael is seven. Amanda and Max are eight and six. They're really Karen's friends, and don't always get along too well with David Michael. Linny and Hannie are also eight and six. Linny is David Michael's good friend, and Hannie is Karen's good friend. The Papadakis kids are friendly and easygoing and get along with anybody — except Amanda and Max. And Amanda and Max don't like Hannie and Linnie much, either. So there were a lot of "enemies" in this little crowd of kids.

But Kristy was dealing with the seven of them fairly well. For one thing, she insisted

that they play outside in the backyard. Nobody minded. Shannon the puppy was more fun outside than inside. She would frisk after bugs and chase falling leaves and tumble around in the grass. Things were going so well that Kristy sat down in a lawn chair and simply watched the scene before her.

David Michael, Linny, and Andrew were trying to set up an obstacle course for Shannon — arranging stones and chairs for her to jump over, crawl through, and dive under. Kristy knew it would never work — and that the boys wouldn't really care.

The girls and Max were chasing poor Boo-Boo through the yard. What you need to remember about Boo-Boo is that he's fat and old. And pretty bad-tempered. Kristy and her family had been living in Watson's house for several whole months, and Kristy was not sure she'd ever even patted Boo-Boo. He was good for chasing, though. Kristy hoped the kids would tire Boo-Boo out and that he would go indoors and fall asleep. (Kristy liked Boo-Boo much better asleep than awake.)

"Boo-Boo! Boo-Boo!" Amanda called.

Boo-Boo had paused by a rosebush. Amanda made a move as if she were going to come after him again. It was a fake, though (just like

in football)/ but Boo-Boo fell for it and ran up a tree, claws clinging wildly.

"I think Boo-Boo might be under another spell, you guys," Karen informed the others, and Kristy shook her head. Karen wasn't going to start that Morbidda Destiny stuff again — was she?

Yes, she was.

"A spell?" Hannie repeated, her eyes widening. "You mean — a witch's spell?" Han-nie's gaze traveled across the yard to Mrs. Porter's house next door. The house was old, Victorian, with gables and turrets and towers. And it was run-down. It was a Halloween house.

"Yes," replied Karen. "I saw Morbidda Destiny with bottles and jars last weekend. I think she was working up some new potions."

Kristy wondered whether she should put a stop to Karen's stories. Often, she did. They sometimes got out of hand. However, David Michael, Linny, and Andrew were now listening, too, and everyone seemed just plain fascinated. Besides, if the stories kept the Papa-dakises from arguing with the Delaneys, and the Delaneys from being mean to David Michael, well . . .

Kristy let Karen go on. See, Karen thinks

that old Mrs. Porter, who lives alone in the Halloween house, is actually a witch named Morbidda Destiny, and that she mixes potions and brews, casts spells, rides a broomstick, and goes to witches' meetings. Mrs. Porter is a little strange, and she does dress in funny, long, black robes, but Kristy is fairly certain she isn't a witch. (She's never been able to convince Karen of that, though.)

"What kind of potions is she working up?" Max asked Karen.

"Witch potions."

"You mean . . . ?" Hannie began.

Karen nodded her head. "Yes. To turn people and animals into witches. To turn us into witches."

"Us?" shrieked Amanda. "Well, how could she ever get us to take the potions? We'd have to drink them, wouldn't we?"

"Yes," replied Karen."

"And we wouldn't be stupid enough to drink something Morbidda Destiny gave us, would we?"

Karen remained undaunted. "Witches have their ways," she said mysteriously.

All seven children turned wary eyes to Mrs. Porter's house, as if expecting to see a bat fly out a window or something. Of course, nothing happened.

Finally, David Michael said, "Well, now I'm thirsty. Kristy, can we make some lemonade?"

"I don't think we have any mix," she told her brother.

"Hey, could we make real lemonade?" asked Hannie, inspired. "It would be fun! All you need is lemons and water and sugar. And ice."

"It would be fun," Kristy replied, "but you need lots and lots of lemons to make enough lemonade for eight people. I'm sure we've only got two or three. We hardly ever use them."

"Darn," said Karen.

"I've got plenty of lemons," spoke up a hoarse voice. "You children come on over here and I'll show you how to make real lemonade."

Eight heads swiveled slowly in the direction of the Hallo ween house. There stood Mrs. Porter, frizzy gray hair, frumpy black clothes, and all.

Kristy thought it was to the kids' credit that not one of them screamed, but she realized later that they were simply frozen with horror.

"Please?" croaked Mrs. Porter. "I hardly ever have guests."

Kristy looked from the terrified children to Mrs. Porter. She couldn't help but remember the time she'd been baby-sitting and Mrs. Porter had brought over the remains of a mouse, saying that Boo-Boo had killed it and

left the insides on her front porch. On the other hand, Mrs. Porter had also brought over a wedding present when Kristy's mom and Watson had gotten married. Kristy kept thinking about what Mrs. Porter had just said: "I hardly ever have guests." She began to feel sorry for her. So she made one of the snap decisions she's famous for. "Come on, you guys. What fun! Real lemonade! Thanks, Mrs. Porter."