Ann Martin - Baby-Sitters Club 094

"You're late," said Kristy.

"Are not," Mal protested as she looked at the clock. At that very second, the clock switched to 5:31. "It was five-thirty when we walked through that door." "She's right," I said.

Kristy scowled. "I suppose," she admitted grudgingly. Kristy doesn't like us to cut it that close.

Mallory smiled at Jessi and the two best friends slapped a high five.

I love to watch Jessi and Mallory together. In some ways they're both so sensible and grown-up, and then - in an instant - they can seem like real kids. (Right now was one of those instants. They were jumping around and slapping one another high fives behind their backs and in every conceivable way.) Jessi is an excellent ballerina. She studies at a dance school in Stamford (which is the near- est city to Stoneybrook). She's already performed in a few professional productions. She was the lead in one of her ballet school productions.

I'm sure Jessi will be a famous ballerina someday. She works hard and is very talented. She even looks like a dancer with her long, graceful arms and legs. Mostly she wears her black hair in a tight bun like dancers do. Since that hairstyle leaves nothing to the imagination, it's lucky for Jessi she has such a pretty face with clear skin and large dark eyes.

Here's a coincidence. Jessi lives in my old house, the one we moved out of when we returned to Manhattan. Just like my family, her family came here because her dad's company transferred him. The move was hard for Jessi for all the normal reasons that moves are hard on kids, and for one extra reason. Jessi's family is African-American. They used to live in an integrated neighborhood, but Stoneybrook is mostly European-American. (That's a phrase I heard someone use on the radio today.) Some people in Stoneybrook were totally obnoxious to Jessi's family just because of their skin color. (People can be such jerks sometimes!) Fortunately that craziness has blown over, and the Ramseys are happily settled in now with good friends and neighbors. Jessi's family consists of her mom and dad; a younger sister, Becca, who is eight; and her baby brother, Squirt, who is almost two. Jessi's aunt Cecelia also lives with them. She takes care of Squirt and Becca while Mr. and Mrs. Ramsey work.

Jessi has a pretty big family, but it's nothing compared to Mallory's family. The Pikes have eight kids! There are the triplets, Adam, Byron, and Jordan, who are ten, then comes Va-nessa (nine), Nicky (eight), Margo (seven), and Claire, who is only five. They live in a busy house on Slate Street.

The size of Mal's family explains why she's such a good baby-sitter. She sure knows about little kids. Being the oldest has made her very responsible, too. But Mal has her dreams. She wants to be an author-illustrator of children's books. She's talented, too.

Mal says she doesn't want to have her picture on the back cover of any of her books because she can't stand her looks. I think she's too hard on herself, though. Mal has curly reddish-brown hair, glasses, and braces. Mal disagrees, but in my opinion she's cute.

"I need the club notebook," said Mal. "I have a lot to write about my last job, sitting for the Barretts and the DeWitts. Those kids are possibly crazier than my brothers and sisters." The club notebook is a kind of diary where we record our baby-sitting experiences. (Mal loves writing in it, the rest of us don't.) It's very helpful because it's a place to read about client families and keep up with what's happening with them.

"Here it is," said Claudia, handing Mallory the notebook.

"Where's that Abby?" Kristy bellowed.

As I mentioned, Abby is the newest member of the club. She's slim with long, curly brown hair and brown eyes. I like her because she's sharp and very funny.

Just then Abby rushed in. Usually she gets a ride here with Kristy, but today she must have come from somewhere else. Her walk is always brisk and energy-charged, but she wasn't breathless. She didn't instantly check the clock like the rest of us do.

"Abby, it's five-thirty-three," Kristy pointed out.

"Oh, good, I made it on time," Abby said with a smile.

I took a deep breath. I had to admire her nerve. She knows full well that Kristy doesn't consider five-thirty-three on time.

Kristy shot her the dreaded Look.

We all cringed.

Abby didn't even seem to notice. She flipped back her curls and sat at the edge of Claudia's bed.

"Try to be here exactly at five-thirty next time," Kristy said in an icy voice.

Abby raised her eyebrows quizzically. "Are you sure that clock is exactly right? I mean, maybe it's a minute fast." "It's not," Kristy said confidently.

"Well, I think you should call Greenwich, England, and check," Abby insisted. "That's where they set the exact time, isn't it?" "This clock is right," Kristy grumbled.

I tried hard not to smile. Abby is originally from Long Island, which is close to the city. She has a lot of that big-city attitude my other city friends have. That attitude says, "No one is pushing me around." She has that same dry sense of humor, too.

Luckily, the tension was broken by the sound of the ringing phone. "Hello. Babysitters Club," Claudia answered, since she happened to be sitting nearest the phone. From the way she was talking, I could tell it wasn't one of our regular customers. She wrote information on a pad, then said, "I'll see who's available and call you right back." (That's how we always handle calls.) Mary Anne already had the record book open on her lap.

"I'd like the job," I said before I'd even heard who it was for or when.

Mary Anne looked at me with a puzzled expression. "How do you even know you're free?" she asked.

"I don't care," I replied. "I'll cancel whatever I'm doing. I just really need to earn enough money to take Robert to a Broadway show for his birthday." "It's a new family who just moved in," Claudia told Mary Anne and me. "Their name is Cheplin. Mrs. Cheplin wants a regular babysitter who can pick up her kids after school every afternoon and take care of them until she gets home from work at five-thirty." "For how long?" asked Kristy.

"I don't know. Regularly, I guess," replied Claud.

"Well, I can't do it every single day, I have too much to do," said Abby.

"And I have art club," Claudia said.

"I'll have to coach the Krushers soon," said Kristy, who is the coach for a little kids' softball team called Kristy's Krushers.

"I have ballet," Jessi said.

"My parents wouldn't let me do it every day," Mallory said.

"Neither would mine," added Mary Anne. "And I wouldn't want to make that kind of commitment. Why don't we split the job up among us?" "Wait a minute!" I cried. "I can do it. Call her back and say I'll do it. It doesn't sound hard and I want the money." "All right," Mary Anne said with a worried expression. "If you're sure." "Sure, I'm sure," I told her enthusiastically. I couldn't believe how lucky I was. I'd wanted a lot of work and I got it. Just like that. Unbelievable! Great! At least, I thought it was great at the time.

Chapter 3.

The Cheplins weren't easy to find. They live on Acorn Place, one of those twisting roads over by Burnt Hill Road, where Mary Anne lives. Near my house, the blocks all rail into straight lines, but over there they twist and turn and don't have any particular order that I can figure out.

By the time I reached the house that Thursday afternoon, I was fifteen minutes late. Despite the biting cold, I felt overheated and breathless from pedaling my bike up the steep hill leading to Acorn Place. The Cheplins' small house was brick with bright blue shutters. It was set on a thickly wooded hillside that led down to a stream. It looked cozy, like a house from a fairy tale.

Leaning my bike against a slate rock walkway at the front of the house, I walked down several stone steps and banged the brass front door knocker that was shaped like a woodpecker.