Ann Martin - Baby-Sitters Club 085

A quiz show, book readings by guest actors, a comedy act . . . the tape was full of great stuff.

By the end of the tape I'd filled two pages with atrociously spelled notes.

"How do we get authors on the show?" I asked.

"Call or write their publishing company for information," Bob replied. Scribble, scribble, scribble. "What about auditions?" Ashley asked. "You know, for people our age?" "We can put an ad in the SMS Express," I suggested.

"And we'll run periodic announcements on the air," Bob said. "You can hold the auditions in the studio. We'll set everything up. Just remember one thing." "What's that?" 1 asked. Bob laughed. "Don't book anything that'll cost us. Remember why you guys are here." Ash and 1 looked at him blankly. "What do you mean?" I asked.

"Didn't Mr. Bullock tell you? About our financial state?" Ash and I glanced at each other and shrugged. "Nope," she said.

"Well, one of our sponsors has backed out," Bob explained. "One that funded a lot of shows, including the show that's in your time slot. So ... no sponsor, no money. The station Had to fire a dee jay and some of our staff. I'm amazed they kept me." "The station's not going to close down or anything, is it?" I asked.

"Not yet. But it doesn't look too great." "And that's why you had the contest?" Ash-ley said. "To get two unpaid staff members?" "Well, I wouldn't put it so bluntly/' Bob replied. "I mean, that was a consideration. But the station really believes in this concept. I believe in it. And I think you guys are going to be fantastic!" After our meeting with Bob, Ash was furious. As we waited outside for her mom, I could practically see the storm clouds gathering over her head. "I can't believe they're using us like this," she grumbled.

"Oh, Ash, what's the difference?" I said. "We're doing this for the experience, right? We're going to run a radio show. Who cares about that other junk?" Ashley grunted. I think she agreed with me. She just didn't want to admit it.

Chapter 6.

Boy, was Kristy determined to be on my show. I'd only seen her like this once before, when she'd tried to convince a TV news team to interview the BSC members. (Why? Because the baby-sitting club Dawn had joined when she was in California had been on TV out there.) Each day she seemed to have a new idea. On Wednesday she suggested running radio ads for the BSC (I'd open each show saying " 'For Kids Only/ sponsored by the Babysitters Club"!). Thursday she proposed a regular feature called "Thomas's Sitting Tips." Friday it was the "Krusher Scouting Report." I figured she'd take a break over the weekend.

I was wrong.

On Saturday, Kristy and Dawn were scheduled to sit for the seven Barrett/DeWitt kids. (Four of them are from Mr. DeWitt's first marriage, and three of them from Mrs. Barrett's.) By the time Dawn arrived, Kristy was already setting two things on the picnic table in the backyard. One was a baby monitor (Marnie Barrett and Ryan DeWitt, who are both two, were napping in the bedroom they share.) The other thing was a cassette recorder.

"Hi!" Dawn said. "What's the machine for?" "You'll see. You're in this, too." Before Dawn could reply, Mr. and Mrs. DeWitt bustled out the back door and said their good-byes.

" 'Bye/' yelled all the non-napping kids, who were playing freeze tag: Buddy Barrett and Lindsey DeWitt (who are eight), Taylor DeWitt (six), Suzi Barrett (five), and Madeleine DeWitt (four).

As the grown-ups headed toward their car, Kristy cupped her hands and called out: "Okay, how many of you guys want to audition for a radio show?" "Meeeeee!" Forget freeze tag. The five of them charged toward the picnic table.

Dawn rolled her eyes. "Claudia is going to kill you, Kristy." Kristy laughed. "Nahh. Too many witnesses. Besides, we're just auditioning." "Can I be the announcer?" Buddy cried out.

"No announcer," Kristy said. "This is a play, with parts for everybody." "Yeaaawa!" the kids screamed.

"Can we do Robin Hood?" Taylor asked. "I'm Robin!" "I'm the Sheriff!" Suzi called out.

"You're a girl," Buddy sneered.

"So?" "So who am I supposed to play, Maid Marion?" Lindsey shrieked with laughter. "Buddy's Maid Marion, Buddy's Maid Marion." "Heyyyyy - " Phweeet! Kristy is the only girl I know who owns a referee's whistle. She takes it with her on baby-sitting jobs sometimes. It makes one of the loudest noises I have ever heard. I don't know why Mamie and Ryan didn't start shrieking from inside.

Outside, the kids quieted down.

"Okay, our show is called Tales of Babysitting,' " Kristy said. "We all play ourselves." "Ourselves? That's no fun," Taylor complained.

"You just think so because you have the worst part in the show," Lindsey said.

"Hey!" Taylor protested.

"Be nice, guys," Kristy said. "We have to work together. Now, our first episode is called, 'A Messy Problem.' Dawn, you and I arrive at the house to see muddy footsteps on the carpet. You say, 'Hello, is anybody home? Oh, wow, Kristy, look at those footsteps.' Okay? Got that?" Dawn laughed. "Kristy, I can't — " "Say it," Kristy urged her.

"Um, hello is anybody — this is ridiculous — " "Come on, Dawn," Kristy said. "Don't ruin the show." "Yeah!" Buddy piped up. "Oh-wow-look-at-those-footsteps," Dawn mumbled.

"Needs a little work, but not a bad start," Kristy said. "Now, Suzi, can you do a good scream?" "EEEEEEEEEEAAAAAGGHH/" The kids thought this was hysterical. They all started screaming, too.

Dawn claimed she lost some hearing in her left ear.

"Stop!" Kristy bellowed. "Now it's my line." She let out a fake-sounding gasp. Then, in a weird, overeager voice, "Oh, SUZI! What has HAPPENED? YOU have MUD all OVER your FACE, hands, and SHIRT!" Suzi looked very concerned. "I do?" "It's a play, dummy/' Buddy taunted.

"I'm not a — " "Now, Dawn, say, 'Gee, Suzi. What happened?' " Kristy directed.

"Why — I don't — oh, okay." Dawn repeated the words in a monotone.

Kristy turned to Suzi. "Now you say your brother was playing in the mud and he came inside and smeared you with it." Suzi squealed with laughter. "Muddy Buddy, muddy Buddy," she sang.

"Why am I the bad guy?" Buddy protested.

"I'll be the bad guy!" Taylor volunteered.

"Figures," Lindsey said.

"Guys ..." Kristy warned.

"Oh, Kristy, what's the point?" Dawn asked.

Kristy exhaled with exasperation. "The point is for listeners to hear about effective baby-sitting techniques, but in story form. That makes it more interesting. And the tape is so we can listen to ourselves and fine-tune the acting. Okay?" "Sure, Kristy," Dawn said.

"Now, my turn," Kristy barreled on. "Oh DEAR, Suzi, that is NOT acceptable BEHAVIOR, IS it? Oh, DAWN? Will you PLEASE go upSTAIRS and see where the OTHER children are and TELL them in a GENTLE but FIRM way that whoEVER brought the mud in must BEAR THE RESPONSIBILITY for cleanup? With our SUPERVISION, of COURSE/ " "You've got to be joking," Dawn muttered.

Kristy slapped her hands rhythmically on the picnic table."These'll be your footsteps going upstairs. Now, once you're up there, you see Buddy lying on his bed in a muddy outfit, and Taylor and Lindsey — " "I'm not stupid enough to do thatl" Buddy said.

"It's make-believe," Lindsey retorted. "Do we use our real names?" "VJaaaaaaaaahhhhhh I" squawked the baby monitor. Dawn had never been so happy to hear a screaming toddler.

"It's Ryan. I'll go!" Dawn bolted from the table and flew inside. As she walked into the bedroom, Ryan was rubbing his eyes and whining. Marnie was still fast asleep.

"Hi, sweetheart," Dawn said, picking Ryan up. "Bad dream?" Ryan nuzzled his face into Dawn's shoulder. She brought him into the kitchen. Through the window she heard Buddy's voice: "Yes-you-are-right-Kristy-I-will-never-do-that-again." He sounded as if he were speaking English for the first time.