Ann Martin - Claudia And The Phantom Phone Calls

"It's not you, it's your father," said Kristy.

"I know, but you three have to take over all my work."

"Don't worry about it," said Stacey.

"That's right," I added. "Every business faces problems sometimes. Mimi says that

solving problems strengthens character."

Mary Anne smiled. "Mimi is usually right."

"Okay," said Kristy, rubbing her hands together. "Let's get to work." She opened our appointment book, which she'd been carrying under one arm. "Hmm. Mary Anne, you're supposed to be sitting for the Marshalls for an hour this afternoon, for Claire and Margo Pike tomorrow, and for Charlotte Johanssen on Saturday morning, right?"

"Right."

"Well, let's see. Today is usually my day to watch David Michael, but I switched with Sam since Claudia and I are sitting at the Newtons' starting at five this afternoon. If Mrs. Marshall really just needs someone from three-thirty to four-thirty, I could do that."

"Okay," said Mary Anne. "Here, let me take the book and keep track of all this stuff. It's my job, anyway."

Kristy handed the book over.

"Now," said Mary Anne. "Let's take care of the Pikes. Claudia, you're not down for any jobs tomorrow,"

"No, but I have my art class."

"Oh, right."

"I could skip it," I said reluctantly.

"No, I'll take your job, Mary Anne," said Stacey.

"But you're down for Charlotte."

"Oh, not anymore. Dr. Johanssen called last night to cancel. I didn't have a chance to change the book."

"Great. Okay, the Pikes are taken care of. That leaves Charlotte on Saturday. How come Dr. Johanssen canceled tomorrow? Maybe she'll cancel Saturday, too."

"I don't think so," said Stacey. "It was just that some meeting was called off tomorrow. It's not going to affect Saturday."

Mary Anne sighed. She looked at the book again. "Claudia?" she asked.

"Sure, I'll watch Charlotte."

Mary Anne snapped the book shut. "I've been thinking," she said firmly. "I shouldn't be part of the Baby-sitters Club anymore."

"What?" Kristy and Stacey and I cried.

"It's not fair," Mary Anne went on. "Who knows how long it'll be before the Phantom is caught. Dad could keep me on baby-sitting probation for years."

"But — but — " said Kristy.

"Hey, I've got an idea!" I cried. "Why don't you stay on as secretary of the club. You keep all our records and appointments so neatly. Nobody else will do as good a job."

"Well ..." said Mary Anne. "But I'm not going to be earning any money. I might not

be able to pay my club dues."

"Let's not worry about that now/' said Kristy.

"Right," I added. "Us baby-sitters have to stick together. Through thick and thin."

"Through Phantoms and power failures," said Stacey.

"Through fires and floods," said Kristy.

We put our arms around each other and headed into the school building just as the bell rang.

Chapter 12.

Late that afternoon, Kristy and I began one of our most terrifying baby-sitting experiences ever. Jamie Newton's mother had called two weeks earlier needing a sitter for that evening. There was one hitch: Jamie would not be the only child at the Newtons'. His wild cousins would be there, too. I'd baby-sat for them once before — by myself — and based on that experience, I told Mrs. Newton she would need two sitters the second time, especially since the job was over the dinner hour and the kids would need to be fed.

Jamie's cousins were Rob, Brenda, and Rosie. Rob, the oldest, was eight; Brenda was five; and Rosie was three. And they were tough to handle. Rob hated girls (including girl babysitters), Brenda was fussy, and Rosie was noisy. Well, they were all noisy. The other time I had sat for them, they jumped and ran around the living room and disobeyed practically every-

thing I said. I had finally managed to calm them down, but I still wasn't looking forward to the evening, although it was bound to be different with Kristy there.

We arrived at the Newtons' at five o'clock and found the place already in chaos. The adults, Jamie's parents and Mr. and Mrs. Feld-man (the parents of Rob, Brenda, and Rosie), were trying to get ready to leave, but three of the four kids (all but Rob) were crying, Mrs. Feldman couldn't find the sandwiches she'd brought for our supper, and Mrs. Newton suddenly discovered that her good coat wouldn't button around her middle anymore.

"Darn," she said. "I wore this coat the entire time I was pregnant with Jamie. I just don't understand it."

"Sis?" called Mrs. Feldman from the kitchen. "The sandwiches absolutely are not in the refrigerator. If they are, they're invisible. . . . Rosie, stop it. I don't know why Brenda hit you."

"Not that refrigerator. I put them in the one in the basement," Mrs. Newton called back. "Get Jamie to show you. . . . What am I going to wear tonight? I can't wear that awful maternity coat, not to this cocktail party. . . . Roger?" she shouted upstairs to Mr. Newton.

"Mommy." Jamie came sniffling into the hall

and pulled on his mother's hand. "I don't want to go in the basement with Aunt Diane."

"Nevermind, Sis. I found them. . . .Brenda, stop it. You're pestering your sister."

Well, things went on that way for about five more minutes, but finally Mrs. Newton found a shawl to wear instead of the coat, and, miraculously, Jamie, Brenda, and Rosie stopped crying.

The adults left.

Kristy and I looked at each other, then at the living room where the four kids were standing.

They eyed us and we eyed them.

Rob gathered his sisters in a huddle while Jamie looked on.

Suddenly the huddle broke and the Feld-mans began tearing and screaming and jumping around, just as they had done when I sat for them before. That time I had ignored them, and after a while they'd quieted down.

But Kristy had a different idea. You have to remember that even though she's small for her age, she's a tomboy, and she's used to boys and a big family.

The Feldmans hadn't been screeching and tearing through the living room for more than three seconds, when Kristy put her fingers in her mouth and blew — hard. An ear-piercing

whistle screamed from her lips.

The Feldmans stopped cold.

"Now hear this!" shouted Kristy. "No yelling, no running, and no jumping inside this house — and I mean it." She saw that Rob was about to say something, so she added, "One false move and I'll punch your lights out. That goes for all of you. Do you hear me?"

The Feldmans nodded.

Jamie was wide-eyed with disbelief at what his beloved Kristy had just said.

"Do you understand me?" she went on.

The Feldmans nodded.

"Any questions?"

Rob started to open his mouth again, then thought better of it and raised his hand instead.

"Yes?" said Kristy.

"How did you do that?"

"Do what?"

"Whistle with your fingers."

"Oh. Here, I'll show you. But if you learn how to do it, remember that this is usually an outdoor whistle, not an indoor one. Got it?"

"Yes."

Kristy took Rob into the basement for whistle practice and I led the three younger children into the rec room. I had just settled them into one of Jamie's favorite activities — coloring pictures of monsters — when the phone rang.

"I'll get it," I called down to Kristy. I dashed into the kitchen. "Hello, Newtons' residence."

Nothing. I couldn't hear a sound.

"H-hello?" I tried again.

It's funny how sometimes you can be just as scared by nothing as by something. My hands were shaking as I hung up the receiver.

"Who was it?" called Kristy.

"Wrong number," I replied uneasily. I didn't want to frighten any of the kids, but considering what had happened to the Goldmans the night before, I suddenly thought I had good reason to be nervous.

As soon as possible, I would tell Kristy about the call in private.