Ann Martin - Claudia And The Genius On Elm St.

"No, she's the baby-sitter, Dan," the woman said as Stacey opened the door. "Hello, dear, I'm Rosie's agent, Sandra Yu. I'm so sorry we're late."

"That's okay," Stacey said. "Rosie's in the basement. She's practicing her backpulls."

"Sounds dangerous," Uncle Dandy said with a laugh.

Stacey cringed. She knew she had gotten the word wrong. She slunk back to her homework as the other two walked downstairs.

Rosie performed her tap number, and Stacey said it sounded great. Uncle Dandy clapped loudly and yelled, "Brava!" (Janine explained that you say that to a girl, instead of "Bravo!")

Soon Rosie, Sandra Yu, and Uncle Dandy trooped upstairs and Rosie played some complicated "piece" on the piano. Uncle Dandy clapped loudly at that, too, and at Rosie's violin playing (despite a couple of embarrassing squeaks).

Then came Rosie's acting. Stacey could see Rosie clearly as she stepped into the middle of the living room with a script in her hands.

"I shall perform a selection from the daytime

television serial The Brash and the Beautiful," Rosie announced in a singsong voice. "It's the part of Josephine, the runaway girl. In this scene, she meets her father after having escaped from a home for wayward children, where she was treated terribly and lost her memory. For this scene, I shall require someone to read the part of the father."

"Sweetheart, can't you do a monolog instead?" Ms. Yu asked her.

Rosie frowned. "I don't have one prepared," she replied. "Besides, you said I was perfect for this role — "

"Yes, yes, of course," Ms. Yu answered. "Uh, Dan, what's your policy on scene auditions?"

"I could read the part," Uncle Dandy said, "but not without my glasses. I'm liable to hold the thing upside down and sound like I'm reading Russian — har har!"

"I know!" Rosie said. Then she called out, "Stacey?"

Stacey gulped. She thought she was hearing things. Rosie couldn't possibly expect her to —

"Stacey, will you read with me?" Rosie called.

The house fell silent. Rosie, Uncle Dandy, and Ms. Yu stared at Stacey. Her heart started beating like crazy. "Uh . . . okay."

Stacey was stuck. How could she say no?

She walked into the room, feeling as if she were going to pass out. She stood next to Rosie and looked at the script. "Start here," Rosie whispered, pointing to a place that said SCENE 3.

Stacey cleared her throat. " 'Dad answers knock/ " she read.

"No, that's a stage direction!" Rosie said.

"Oh, sorry. Uh . . . 'Who could be bothering me at this hour? Yes, what can I — ' "

" 'You got anything to drink?' " Rosie said in a dull, flat voice.

It said pause, so Stacey paused. " 'Darling,' " she said. Then it said, He stares at her, so Stacey stared at Rosie, then lost her place. "Uh . . . wait a minute . . .oh! Here! Um, 'It can't be. Oh, darling, my darling, it's you!' "

" 'Leave me alone, you creep, I'm thirsty,' " Rosie said.

" 'But my sweet, dear Josy, my love. Don't you remember? It's me, Daddy!' " Then it said, He grabs her by the shoulders and kisses her, but Stacey decided against that. " 'Daddy, who changed your diapers. Daddy, who sang, "Hush little baby, don't say a word, Poppa's gonna buy you a mockingbird . . ." ' "

Stacey was dying. This was so embarrassing!

(I would have given anything to have been there.)

Anyway, Rosie dropped her script on the

floor. She turned to Stacey and gawked with her mouth hanging open. " "D-D-Daddy?' " she whispered.

Stacey tried to look at the script on the floor. She bent down, thinking she must have had a line.

Then Rosie threw her arms around Stacey, practically tackling her. " 'Daddy!' " she shrieked. " 'Oh, Daddy! Oh, I love you so! I love you! Am I home? Am I really, really home?' "

"Um ..." Stacey wrestled out of Rosie's grip. But when she bent to pick up the script, she stepped on it. She heard a huge rrrrrip as it tore in half. Stacey picked up the pieces and frantically looked for her line.

Rosie stood by the piano, ad-libbing "Oh, Daddys" and crying dramatically.

"Uh ..." Stacey said. "Uh ..."

Ms. Yu finally spoke up. "I think that covers the dramatic ground nicely," she said. "Don't you, Dan?"

"Yes, very nice," Uncle Dandy said, smiling at Rosie. "Very emotional. Thank you so much for sharing your talent, Mary Rose. You'll be on my show, all right. When I figure out in what capacity, I'll call Ms. Yu right away."

He stood up, shook Rosie's hand, and left with Ms. Yu. Neither of them even looked at Stacey.

When Stacey turned around, she saw Ros-ie's eyes filled with tears. Stacey wasn't sure if she was acting or if they were for real.

Rosie went straight to a tissue box and blew her nose. Then she said calmly, as if nothing had happened, "I've got something to do in my room. Call me when my mother comes."

Stacey didn't have the strength to answer. She felt about two inches tall.

Chapter 7.

F ive-eighteen.

I looked at the clock out of the corner of my eye. It was Monday evening, four days after Stacey's fateful evening with Rosie. I was hard at work on my painting, Milk Duds, Spilled.

Yes, painting. Over the weekend I'd started turning my sketches into the real thing. On Sunday I finished Twinkle Unwrapped, and it had turned out really well. The colors were rich, and made you hungry just looking at the painting.

Milk Duds was harder to do. At the moment, the Duds resembled metal balls, and I was determined to fix them.

At five-twenty, I realized I needed a lot more time. I'd have to wait till after the meeting to finish. Meanwhile, my room was a war zone, and I had to clean up in a hurry.

I shoved my paints and brushes into the closet. Then I scooped up the old newspapers

I'd laid out to protect the floor and ran downstairs to put them in' the recycling pile. My canvases weren't so easy to put away, though. I just leaned them against the walls of my room.

When Kristy showed up, her eyes zeroed in on the two canvases. She laughed.

"What's so funny?" I asked.

"I don't know," Kristy said. "Those just . . . make me laugh."

"Thanks a lot," I said.

"No, no! I'm not laughing at them. They make me feel good. It's a compliment, Claud. I think they're great."

I was excited to hear Kristy say that. Especially after her first reaction to my project, back in the beginning.

Soon the others showed up, and Kristy called the meeting to order. I passed around the usual junk food.

"Any new business?" Kristy asked.

"I have some," I said. "On Friday, Mrs. Wilder told me she's going to need us for at least another week. Her mom's still not better."

Kristy nodded. "Mary Anne?" she said.

Mary Anne checked her book. "Claudia, you're free Tuesday and Friday. You've got Charlotte Johanssen on Thursday, but Kristy's free that day, and so's Stacey and Jessi — "

"Uh, count me out," Stacey said. Then she smiled and added, "Please. I'm still recovering from the last time."

"I don't want to be part of any audition," Kristy said. "I'd die."

There was an embarrassed silence. Fortunately Mary Anne saved the day. "Look, we're talking about Rosie like she's a monster. She's human, too, you know/'

"I know," I said, "but she's so ... pushy. She's got all this talent, but she uses it like a machine."

"She is like a machine," said Stacey. "I mean, you work hard on your art, Claudia, but you love it. It shows. Rosie always looks so . . . grim. Or else she has this forced smile. I don't think she really likes what she's doing."

"Yeah," I said. "She's not a very happy girl."

"Maybe her parents are pushing her," Mary Anne suggested. "Maybe we should encourage her to loosen up, have more fun."

"Maybe we should take her to a fun kids' place, like the zoo," suggested Mal.