Ann Martin - Claudia And The Mystery At The Museum

"First I have to give a little speech about it," said Claire. Her brothers and sisters groaned/ but Claire ignored them. She stood up straighter and smiled professionally. "This tape that you're about to see showcases a new and wonderful talent," she said. "Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome Miss Claire Pike!" She waited for us to applaud.

"Vanessa wrote the speech for her," Mal whispered to me. "She says it every time now, before she plays the tape."

Claire bent over and pressed the play button, and the tape came on. I glanced around the room and noticed that nobody was paying much attention. Vanessa was reading her book. The triplets were wrestling quietly on the floor. Nicky was picking at a scab on his knee. Margo was trying to braid one of her pigtails. And Mal had closed her eyes and

seemed to be taking a nap. But Claire didn't notice. She was focused on the TV screen, watching closely. I watched, too.

Claire didn't look exactly like Dorothy, but she looked close enough. And she didn't sing quite as well as Judy Garland (who plays Dorothy in the movie), but I have to say that her voice was better than I had expected. And she did a really good job acting out the song, looking particularly wistful when she sang the part about bluebirds flying over the rainbow.

When the tape ended, I clapped as hard as I could. The kids clapped, too, but only once or twice each. They weren't exactly enthusiastic, and I couldn't blame them.

But Claire didn't notice. "Thank you, thank you," she said, curtsying graciously.

"Can we go now?" asked Jordan. He and the triplets stood up and left, and Nicky followed them.

"So did you like it?" Claire asked me. "Did you notice the part where I looked up, like I was looking at a rainbow?"

"I liked it very much," I said.

"Can you discover me?" Claire asked hopefully.

"You mean, can I help you get famous?" I asked. "I don't think so. I don't know any important people or anything."

"How am I ever going to be discovered?" asked Claire. "Nobody important is ever going to come to my rec room."

She was right. I didn't know what to say. "I guess you can't become famous unless yoii have an agent," I said, thinking of articles I had read about stars.

"An agent?" asked Claire. "What's that?"

"Somebody who helps you get acting jobs," explained Mal. "I don't know how you find one, though."

I was thinking fast. "I do!" I said. "I mean, I know somebody who would know, anyway. She has an agent, herself."

"Who?" asked Claire. "Can I meet her?"

"Her name is Rosie Wilder," I said. "I used to baby-sit for her a lot. She was always trying out for acting jobs, and I know that her agent found her some jobs in TV commercials."

"Rosie Wilder," said Mal thoughtfully. "Wasn't she always taking a million lessons?"

"Yup," I replied, "but I think she eased up a little. It was kind of overwhelming." Stardom can be hard on kids. We actually know one other kid who is on TV, and it hasn't always been easy for him, either. His name is Derek Masters, and he's a really nice boy. I would have asked him to help with Claire's career, but he was out in California making a TV show called P.S. 162. He's practically the

star of that show, which is about an inner-city school. "Why don't I call Rosie," I said, "and see if she can help us?"

"Yeah!" cried Claire. "Do it right now! Please!"

I dialed Rosie's number. I didn't think she would answer the phone herself, since she is usually so busy with her lessons, but she picked up the phone on the second ring. Then I told her about Claire, and asked if she could help.

"I'd be glad to," Rosie answered, sounding more mature than her seven years. "I have tap class in an hour, but I'll be home until then. Come on over, and tell Claire to bring her video."

Margo and Vanessa decided that they wanted to come along and meet Rosie the star, so Mal said she would stay home with the boys while I took the girls to Rosie's. Claire removed her video from the VCR and put it carefully into its case. She clutched it to her chest aU the way to Rosie's.

Rosie answered the door, and I introduced the kids to each other. "I know your brother Nicky," Rosie said to the girls. "He's in my class at school." (Rosie skipped a grade.) She led us upstairs to her bedroom. "My mom said we could watch the video in here," she explained. "She's doing some work downstairs."

"You have your own TV in your room?" asked Margo, awed.

"Sure," said Rosie. "My own VCR, too."

"Lucky duck," said Margo enviously.

Claire was looking around the room, wide-eyed. "Are these pictures all of you?" she asked. Framed photographs lined the walls. There was Rosie on the set of a carpet-cleaner commercial, and Rosie playing violin in an orchestra. Claire pointed to one of Rosie singing in a recital. "Weren't you nervous?" she asked.

Rosie shrugged. "Not really," she said. "I'm used to it. Why don't you give me your video?"

Claire handed it over a little reluctantly. She seemed suddenly shy. Rosie stuck the video into the VCR, pressed play, and stood back to watch. She was silent until the video ended. Claire, who looked nervous now, waited for her comments.

"Not bad," said Rosie thoughtfully. "Not bad at all, for an amateur." She put a finger to her cheek and thought. "I'm sure you could find an agent if you sent this around. I would even tell you to send it to my agent, but I happen to know she's not taking on any new clients these days."

"How do I find out where to send it?" asked Claire. Now she looked happy and excited.

"I'll give you some addresses," said Rosie. "Then, the best thing to do would be to copy the video and send it out to everybody at once. That'll save time." She sat down at her desk and made a list of agents for Claire. "Here," she said. "Good luck!"

When we left Rosie's, Claire was practically bubbling over with enthusiasm. "This is it!" she said. "I'm going to get discovered for sure now." She skipped along happily.

I knew that copying the video would be expensive, so I talked Claire into sending it to one agent at a time, starting with the first one on Rosie's list. And that's what she did, with my help and Mal's, as soon as she got home. I thought we should wait and check with Mrs. Pike about whether it was all right to send it, but Mal said it was okay. Claire dictated a note to me, packed up the video, and gave it to me to take to the post office. I had a feeling she would be watching the mailbox every minute until she got a reply. Claire was sure she was bound for stardom.

Chapter 11.

As soon as Mrs. Pike came home that afternoon, Mal and I headed over to my house for our BSC meeting. By running most of the way, we arrived before Kristy did. Just before. She came pounding up the stairs right after us. "Where's everybody else?" she asked, impatiently. "I had a great idea on the way over here."

Mal and I let out big fake groans and rolled our eyes. I can't tell you how many times I've heard those words — "I had a great idea" — come out of Kristy's mouth. And usually, her ideas really are great. But we still like to tease her once in awhile.

"If s only five twenty-five," I said, in answer to her question. "They'll be here in time for our meeting, I'm sure." And I was right. Two minutes later Shannon and Stacey arrived, with Jessi and Mary Anne behind them. "See?" I said to Kristy with a grin. I held out

a package of Twizzlers. "Relax and have one of these," I added. "Then you can tell us about your idea."

I passed a bag of Ruffles around the other way, and handed a bag of pretzels to Stacey.

"Any news on the museum robbery?" Stacey asked.

I shook my head. "Nothing," I said. "But I think about it all the time. I know I'll come up with something soon."

"Ahem," said Kristy, pointing to the clock. It had just clicked to 5:30. "This meeting is now called to order."