Ann Martin: Baby-Sitters Club 057

After checking to make sure Nicky and Vanessa's letter writing campaign was under control, I joined Mary Anne. She greeted me with a hug. "This fair is fantastic. You and Stacey are geniuses." "Mary Anne's right," Mrs. Addison added. "I'm overwhelmed at all the good information that's being handed out here." Before I could reply, Marilyn and Carolyn joined us. "Look, Mary Anne," Marilyn called, holding up her bag. "I decorated this myself." On her bag the words, I Saved a Tree were written in pink and blue paint across one side. Marilyn had glued little sequins to the word "tree." On the other side of the bag she had painted her name.

Carolyn rushed to Mary Anne, clutching her own bag, which was painted green and yellow. "Did you know that paper bags are made from trees? And one fifteen-year-old tree makes seven hundred bags?" "Wow!" Mary Anne said. "That's a lot of bags." Marilyn shook her head. "But it's really not. Because a grocery store can go through that many bags in one hour." Carolyn held up her bag. "That's why it's important to use canvas bags." Mrs. Addison, who was admiring the bags, asked, "Where did you learn all that?" Marilyn and Carolyn turned and pointed. "At the shopping bag booth. Melody and Hannie told us." "That's amazing," Mrs. Addison exclaimed.

I squeezed Mary Anne's hand. "Isn't it? I'm so proud of the kids. They're all doing so well." "You should be proud," a familiar voice said. "I've been watching a demonstration on how to make tree feeders, and I can't wait to go home and make one myself." I spun around and found myself face to face with my science teacher. "Mrs. Gonzalez!" I gasped. "I'm glad you could come." Mrs. Gonzalez smiled. "I wouldn't have missed this for the world." "Dawn!" Bill Korman shouted from his booth. "Dawn, come quick!" "Oops," I said. "It looks like trouble's brewing at the wild animal booth. Excuse me." "If you don't mind," Mrs. Gonzalez said, "I'll go with you." My heart sank. I expected to find something terribly wrong at the boys' booth.

But when Mrs. Gonzalez and I got there, Bill and Buddy were grinning from ear to ear.

"What's the matter, Bill?" I asked.

"We just sold ten bird houses," Buddy cried with glee.

"What's wrong with that?" I asked.

"Nothing," Bill replied, looked slightly confused. "We thought it was great news." "Yeah," Buddy added. "Do you know how much money we've made?" Stacey, the math whiz, came up beside me and answered, "Twenty dollars. Great work, guys!" Bill pointed to the line of kids forming in front of their booth. "At this rate, we'll make a hundred dollars by the time the fair's over." "That's a lot of money," Mrs. Gonzalez said, obviously impressed. "What do you plan to do with it?" "We're going to give it to an environmental organization," Stacey explained. "But we haven't chosen one yet." Suddenly I got an idea. "I know which one I'd like to give it to," I said to Stacey. "But I want to talk it over with you first." Stacey smiled at me. "Whichever one you choose is fine with me." "Are you sure?" I asked, "I mean, I don't want to be pushy or anything." Stacey giggled. "You're not being pushy. Who do you want to give it to?" I dug my toe in the ground as I talked. "I've done a lot of thinking. You know, the world has a lot of wonderful ecological organizations like The Environmental Defense Fund and Greenpeace, but one of the lessons I've learned over the past six weeks is that helping the planet begins at home. So . . ."I took a deep breath. "I move we donate the proceeds from our Green Fair to Stoneybrook Middle School's recycling project." Stacey smiled. "That's a great idea. I second the motion." "All in favor?" I asked. Then we giggled as we said, "Aye." Stacey turned to Mrs. Gonzalez. "Okay, it's official. The money from our Green Fair will go to the recycling project." "That," said Mrs. Gonzalez, "is the best idea I've heard today." Chapter 15.

"Thirty pages!" Stacey gasped as the copier machine at the print shop churned out our report for Mrs. Gonzalez. "Can you believe it? This is practically a book!" As the pages came out of the copier, I separated them into two neat piles. "It would probably have been longer if we had included the extra research we did on rain forests." We were making two copies of our report because Stacey and I were in different classes. We had also decided to include a one page essay on what we had learned individually from participating in the project.

"I hope Mrs. Gonzalez is impressed by this," Stacey said as she handed me a green cover. I'd chosen the color to represent the earth and the green trees. Stacey's cover was blue, which she said represented the oceans and clean drinking water.

"She better be impressed," I replied. "Just typing this took a whole week." After Stacey and I had attached the covers to our reports, we went over to her house to celebrate. Her morn had bought us a bottle of sparkling cider just for the occasion.

Stacey popped the cork and poured the cider into two of her mother's expensive Waterford crystal glasses. We took our drinks into the living room and then I proposed a toast.

"Here's to you," I declared, holding up my glass. "For putting up with bossy old me for six weeks." Stacey raised her glass. "And here's to you, for thinking up the best project in the whole school." We clinked glasses and Stacey added, "I hope we get an A." "Of course we'll get an A," I said, after taking a sip of my cider. "We deserve it." But when I turned in my copy of the report the next morning, I didn't feel nearly as confident as I had the night before.

"What if she says my report's too long?" I whispered to Amelia after I placed my report on Mrs. Gonzalez's desk.

"Who knows? It might be too short," Elizabeth replied. "Did you see Pete Black's report? It's so huge, it must weigh five pounds." "Maybe my essay is all wrong," I mumbled to myself as I hurried back to my desk.

I spent the next seven days worrying about that report. I know that sounds silly, especially after all the work Stacey and I had done. It was my essay that worried me the most. Stacey told me she had written her essay on how she planned to stay involved in the ecology movement in the future. I didn't even mention the word ecology or pollution in mine.

The following Monday, Mrs. Gonzalez appeared in science class with a stack of papers in her arms. Everyone knew what they were - the reports. But she didn't hand them out right away. She made us suffer first. Then during the last ten minutes of class she passed them back to us.

My hands were shaking so much I could barely open mine. All around me I heard excited cries and disappointed sighs, as people saw their grades. But still I couldn't bring myself to open the cover. I finally got up the nerve when the bell rang. I squeezed my eyes shut and, quick, flipped open the cover. I couldn't believe what I saw.

Written in bright red ink was the letter A. Next to it was this note from Mrs. Gonzalez: "Your project was superb and this report is excellent. Carefully thought out, well-executed, and a delight to read. Especially the essay. Please see me after class - I'd like to talk to you." When I looked up from my paper, I discovered I was the only student left in the classroom. Mrs. Gonzalez was standing in front of her desk.

"Well?" she asked. "Are you happy?" "Am I happy?" I repeated. "I could jump for joy!" "Go ahead," she chuckled. "No one's watching, and I won't tell." (In case you're wondering I did not jump, but I did do a lot-of squealing with happiness - later on, when I told the rest of the BSC at lunch. And that was because of what Mrs. Gonzalez said to me next.) "Dawn," she began, taking a seat, "I know you were disappointed when the school chose me to head the recycling center." I started to protest, but Mrs. Gonzalez said, "It's okay. I would have been upset, too. After all, it was your idea." I looked down at my hands. "Well, maybe I was a little disappointed." "I have a proposal that I'd like to put in front of the student body. Mr. Kingbridge thinks it's a good idea. All we need is for the students to say yes." "What is it?" "I'd like you to co-chair the recycling program with me." I couldn't believe my ears. "Really?" Mrs. Gonzalez nodded. "That means we split everything - good and bad jobs alike - fifty-fifty. It would also mean that you'd have to give up a lot of Saturdays so you could supervise the project." "That's fine with me," I said. "When do we start?" "As soon as the students vote on it." "Oh." My shoulders drooped. "I don't think they'll want me, not after the way I've behaved." "I'll admit you were a little overexuberant at first," Mrs. Gonzalez said carefully.