Ann Martin - Claudia And the Clue in the Photograph

"I don't care what you all say, I'm going to develop that film — tonight," I said.

And that’s exactly what I did, right after dinner that evening. Janine was out with Jerry, and she wasn't due home until pretty late that evening, so even though I hadn't gotten around to making that Darkroom in Use sign for the bathroom, I knew it would be safe to develop film in there. I set everything up, stuck the towel under the door, and turned out the lights. I was only developing one roll of film. The other roll, which only had a few bank pictures, was still in my camera. It didn't take long to load the film in the tank, and once that was done I turned the lights back on and got to work with the chemicals.

When the film was finished, I hung it up to dry. I could tell that the pictures were all clear and that the developing had gone well, but I wouldn't be able to get a good look at them until the film was dry and I could make a contact print. I left the darkroom and got to work on my math homework. Then I had a snack (some Fritos, with a Three Musketeers bar for dessert) and read a few chapters of The

Clue of the Tapping Heels, one of my all-time favorite Nancy Drew books. I think I must have read that one about four times, but I still love it.

Finally, at around ten-thirty, I figured the film must be dry. I knew my parents wouldn't be crazy about my working in the darkroom that late, but I couldn't resist going in to make a quick contact print.

A contact print is a great way to look at negatives. Here's how you make it: You just lay the negatives down on a piece of photographic paper, shine some light on them, and then develop the paper. In order to see what you're doing during this kind of work you use a "safelight" — a red light that doesn't ruin pictures. I just replace the bulb in the bathroom light with a special red one. When you're finished, what you have is a print of the negatives that you can look at with a loupe, so you can tell which shots might be worth enlarging.

My heart was beating fast as I made the contact print and developed it. Then I hung it up to dry — but I was too impatient to wait. Even though it was still damp, I brought it out to my desk and started to peer at each picture through the loupe. I examined them one by one, and by the time I finished, my heart wasn't beating so fast anymore.

The pictures didn't show a thing.

Oh, there were some great shots of the bank's facade, with its columns and carvings. And there were a few people in the pictures, too: a mother pushing a baby carriage appeared in a lot of them, and so did a man in a suit. But that was it. What a let-down.

The funny thing was this: During our meeting, my friends had been teasing me about the slim possibility of dues turning up in my pictures. But guess who showed up at my house as soon as I got home from summer school the next day? Kristy, Mary Anne, and Stacey. They couldn't wait to see what I'd found on the roll of film. "Not much," I told them, showing them the contact print. One by one, they peered at the pictures through the loupe.

"You're right," Kristy said, after her turn. "Not much at all."

"I wonder how old the baby is," said Mary Anne, after she'd looked.

"That guy must be a banker," joked Stacey when she was done. "He has one of those banker's pocket watches. You know, the kind that fastens to your belt with a chain?"

"If he's a banker, why isn't he in the bank?" asked Kristy.

"I was only kidding," said Stacey.

Kristy took one last look at the pictures, and

shook her head. "Drat! I was really hoping we'd get some dues," she said, smacking her fist into her palm.

"Oh, well," I said. I tried not to show how funny I thought it was that my friends had gotten all excited about the pictures, after teasing me for my interest. Instead, I decided to distract them. "Weren't we going to buy some new stuff for our Kid-Kits?" I asked. "Why don't we head downtown right now?" And that was that. We left about three minutes later, without a backward glance at that disappointing contact print lying on my desk.

Chapter 6.

It was an absolutely gorgeous Friday afternoon. Blue sky, white puffy clouds, the whole bit. Hot, but not muggy. Just a perfect summer day.

Stacey was sitting for Jamie Newton and his baby sister Lucy while Mrs. Newton visited with an aunt who had just gotten home from the hospital.

"I have something for you," Jamie said to Stacey. She was sitting on the front porch, keeping an eye on Lucy, who was bouncing in her baby seat. Jamie stood on the bottom step, his hands behind his back.

"You do?" asked Stacey, smiling. Jamie is one of our favorite charges. He's four, and he's as cute as a puppy. In fact, at that moment Stacey couldn't help but think of puppies when she looked at Jamie. He had this sweet, hopeful look in his eyes, just like a puppy who's angling for a treat. "What is it?" Stacey asked.

Jamie pulled a bunch of flowers from behind his back. "These!" he said. "I picked them myself!"

Stacey stared at the flowers, horrified. This was not a handful of dandelions or clover blossoms. This was a big bunch of flowers — with roots still attached!

"Jamie!" said Stacey. ''Where did you get those?"

"From the flower patch, over there," Jamie said, pointing toward the huge, colorful flower bed that Mrs. Newton is so proud of.

"Oh, Jamie," said Stacey. "I love the flowers, I really do. But flowers need to stay in the ground."

Jamie looked crestfallen.

"Come on," said Stacey, giving him a hug. I’ll help you tuck them in." She lifted Lucy out of the baby seat, carried her over near the flower beds, and put her down to crawl in the grass. Then she got to work replanting the flowers Jamie had pulled up. She stuck each one back into the ground, hoping that they would live. Then she watered them carefully and sat back to look. If Mrs. Newton didn't check too closely, she might not notice the few wilted blooms amid her thriving plants.

"I'm sorry, Stacey," said Jamie. "I just wanted to give you a present." He frowned and rubbed at the chicken pox scar on his cheek. Jamie and Lucy both had chicken pox not that long ago.

"That’s okay, Jamie," said Stacey. She glanced over at Lucy, who was busy pulling up grass. Lucy peered back with an innocent, "who, me?" look in her eyes. Stacey sighed.

The Newton children seemed to be determined to destroy their yard that day. "How about if we take Miss Lucy Jane for a walk in her stroller?" Stacey asked Jamie. "We'll go visit Claudia. She's baby-sitting for Charlotte Johanssen, around the corner."

"Yea!" said Jamie. "Claudee!" Jamie's always called me that.

Lucy smiled broadly, showing all four of her teeth. She knows what "walk" means, and she loves her stroller.

Stacey grabbed her backpack, stuck an extra bottle and a diaper in it, and left a note for Mrs. Newton. Then they were off. At first they went slowly, since Jamie insisted on pushing the stroller. "Lucy only likes it when I push,". he said. After a half-block, though, he was distracted by a beetle crawling on the sidewalk, and Stacey took over.

When the three of them arrived at the Johanssens', they found Charlotte and me out in the driveway, along with Becca, who had come over to visit. We were taking turns bouncing a little red rubber ball and playing this game I had taught them.

"A my name is Alice and my husband's

name is Al," said Charlotte, bouncing the ball.

"We come from Alabama, and we sell — uh

— apples?'

Then Becca took over. "B my name is Bertha

and my husband's name is Bart. We come from — from Bermuda and we sell baseball bats."

"My turn!" I said. I was having a great time. "C my name is Claudia,” I said, grinning while I bounced the ball. "And my husband's name is Carl. We come from California and we sell cardigans!"