Ann Martin - Claudia And The Phantom Phone Calls

"Okay," said David Michael wheezily.

"You go back to bed and I'll be right up."

Mary Anne felt better since the house wasn't

so quiet. She brought David Michael the aspirin, and then she sat on his bed and told him a story about a tiny man named Mr. Piebell who lived in the woods on the twelfth floor of an oak tree apartment building with his miniature collie, Louie.

David Michael fell asleep with a smile on his lips.

Mary Anne was just closing the door to his room when she heard a tremendous crash downstairs.

The tin-can burglar alarm! It had gone off and Mary Anne was trapped upstairs where there was no escape route! Heart pounding, she tried to figure out what to do. Should she wake David Michael and bring him into Mrs. Thomas' room while she called the police? Should she risk everything and make a dash for the front door? What if it was just Louie fooling around? Maybe she should call Stacey and try out our code. If only she could remember it. ...

"Mary Anne?" said an uncertain voice from downstairs.

Yikes! It was a man's voice!

Mary Anne shrank into a corner of the hallway.

"Mary Anne?" it called again more loudly.

The voice sounded vaguely familiar. How does the Phantom know my name? wondered Mary Anne.

Then she heard another voice call her. It was Kristy.

Mary Anne dared to peep downstairs. Kristy, Sam, Charlie, Mrs. Thomas, Watson, Karen, and Andrew were standing in a group at the bottom of the stairs looking up at her.

"Oh," said Mary Anne, trying to sound nonchalant, and realizing that the first voice had been Watson's. "I thought I heard you. I just gave David Michael some aspirin and got him back to sleep. He woke up with a headache." She trotted down the stairs.

"Um . . . Mary Anne ... if you don't mind my asking," said Mrs. Thomas, "what are all those cans and things doing by the door?"

"Oh, those?" replied Mary Anne. "Those are just . . . just. . . . Actually, they were sort of a burglar alarm. I meant to put them away before you got home."

Kristy began to giggle. Charlie snorted.

"And my tape deck?" asked Kristy.

Mary Anne demonstrated the back-door alarm, this time with the volume turned down.

"Ingenious," commented Watson.

"It certainly looks as if David Michael is safe

with you," said Mrs. Thomas.

Mary Anne nodded. She knew she was blushing furiously.

"You could start another business of your own," said Sam. "Mary Anne's Surefire Alarm Systems."

Mary Anne blushed even more furiously.

"Come on," said Kristy, after Mrs. Thomas had paid .Mary Anne. "I'll walk you home." And she did.

Chapter 10.

Boy trouble.

So far, the Baby-sitters Club had managed to keep boys and boy trouble pretty much out of the meetings.

But not on Monday, October twenty-seventh. At that meeting, we were trying to discuss baby-sitting problems, but the subject of boys kept coming up instead. Kristy started it.

"Do you know what Alan Gray did to me today?" she asked, a look of pure disgust on her face.

"What made you think of Alan Gray?" I asked. We'd been talking about Charlotte Jo-hanssen.

"Everything makes me think about him," said Kristy, throwing her hands in the air. "He bothers me all the time, every single second of every single day."

"He's not bothering you right now," said Mary Anne.

"Yes, he is. He bothers me just by living. Alan Gray is so horrible whenever he's around me, that he's all I can think about."

"So what did he do to you today?" asked Stacey.

"He hid my math homework, and then when it was time to hand it in and I couldn't find it, he jumped up and said to Mr. Peters, 'Excuse me, but I know where Kristy's paper is. Her little brother ate it. Kristy wouldn't give him breakfast and he was starving.' "

I giggled.

Kristy turned on me, eyes flashing.

"Well, I'm sorry, I think it's kind of funny."

"You would."

"Oh, Kristy," I said with a laugh. "Calm down."

"But it's not just that," she went on. (I could see that Kristy was determined to be upset.) "I think he's getting worse. On Friday he hid my shoes. On Thursday he called me a skinny pipsqueak in front of the class, and twice last week 1 caught him looking in my desk in the morning. Every day it's something. He never stops."

"Why don't you talk to ... to Sam about it?" suggested Stacey.

"My own brother? No way. Besides, he'd never understand. He's girl-crazy. You should have seen who — or maybe I should say what — he took to the movies last Friday. She's a freshman in high school and she had spiky yellow hair with green stuff at the ends, and these little lace gloves with the fingertips cut out. Now, what is the point of wearing gloves if — "

Kristy stopped talking when she realized that the rest of us were staring at her.

"What? What is it?" she finally asked. Then she noticed Stacey, who was sitting on my bed, gazing sadly down at her hands.

"Sam took a high school girl to the movies?" she asked softly.

"Yeah, I — Oh, no. Stacey, I'm sorry." Kristy had forgotten all about Stacey's crush on Sam. "I'm sure it doesn't mean anything. He is interested in you. Really."

"Then what about that girl — "

"Tamara? You mean, why did he take her to the movies? Honestly, I don't know. But she was so weird, Sam'11 never be serious about her. I'm positive. I think he went out with her just to shake Mom up."

"I thought he liked me," said Stacey.

"He does, he does," Kristy assured her.

"What do you mean when you say she's

weird?" asked Stacey carefully.

"Well, the green-tipped hair, for one thing. And the clothes. Her clothes were just. . . just weird."

"Like mine?" I asked suspiciously.

"Oh, no, not at all like yours," said Kristy, beginning to blush. "Nothing like yours."

I glanced at Stacey. For the first time since I'd met her, she didn't seem so sophisticated. In fact, she looked like a lost little girl. Two tears slid slowly down her cheeks.

"Oh, no! Please don't cry!" exclaimed Kristy.

Mary Anne jumped up from her spot on the floor and sat down next to Stacey. She can't stand for people to be upset.

The phone rang and I answered it. It was Mr. Willis from down the street. I'd baby-sat for his kids once before.

"Yes?" I said. "This Saturday? Sure, sure. . . . Eight P.M. . . . Sure. I'll be there." I hung up the phone and noted my job in our record book.

When I looked up, everyone was glaring at me, even Stacey. It was my turn to find out what I'd done wrong.

"Okay, what is it?" I asked.

"Did you just accept that job?" Kristy demanded.

I felt my stomach drop. "Yes," I whispered.

"But Claudia, you know the rule."

Of course I Tcnew. I'd just forgotten. "I'm supposed to check with everyone else first."

Kristy nodded. "I'm free on Saturday."

"So am I," added Mary Anne.

"Oh," I said.

"I'm not," said Stacey, "but I wish you'd asked me. You didn't know I was busy."

"I — I'll call him back/' I suggested. "One of you guys can have the job."

"No," said Kristy. "That makes us look disorganized. You keep the job. But I want to know something. How often do you get calls for the club and accept jobs without asking anyone else first?"

"Oh, not often. I mean, almost never. Only . . . only once before."

"That job with the Newtons?"

"All right, twice, then."

"You mean that job with Charlotte?" asked Stacey.

"Oh, all right, three times."

"Claudia!" exclaimed Kristy.

"I don't do it on purpose!" I exploded. "I'm not trying to cheat you guys, you know."

"We d— "

"It's just that I have so much on my mind."

"What's wrong?" asked Mary Anne.

"The Halloween Hop is only four days away

and I don't think Trevor even knows my name yet."