Ann Martin - Baby-Sitters Club 056

"Kristy?" said her mother as they were clearing the table. "Are you all right? You're awfully quiet." "Quiet for Kristy, or quiet for a normal person?" asked Sam.

Mrs. Brewer gave her son a Look.

Kristy barely heard him. "Mom, can we talk? Tonight?" "Of course, honey. Girl talk?" "No. Just serious talk. Can Nannie and Watson talk with us?" "Whoa!" exclaimed Sam, and he whistled softly. "This must be major. What did you do?" "Nothing." "I'll find Nannie and Watson," said Kristy's mother.

"Are you flunking something?" asked Sam.

"Let's go in the living room, honey." "Did you break something?" persisted Sam. "Steal something? Tell a lie?" Kristy followed her mother into the living room. When Watson and her grandmother had joined them, she said, "What I'm going to say sounds awful, and I don't have any proof, but I have to talk to an adult. It's about the Lowells." "Go ahead," said Mrs. Brewer.

"I think they're, um, racists." "That's a pretty strong word," said Watson.

Kristy nodded. "I know. But Mrs. Lowell wouldn't let Jessi in their house, and the kids call Claudia 'the funny-looking one'. At first I thought they meant her clothes, but I have this horrible feeling they meant her - her face. Her eyes. They mean she's Asian." Kristy explained about our jobs with the Lowells.

When she finished speaking, she saw her mother and stepfather and grandmother looking worriedly at one another. Finally Nannie sighed and said, "With each generation I think it's going to be over. But it isn't even getting better. Maybe I'm just an old fool." "The Lowells are the foolish ones, Nannie," said Kristy.

"Those poor children," murmured Mrs. Brewer. "They aren't even given the chance to make up their minds for themselves." Watson nodded. "The sins of the fathers, et cetera." "You know what?" said Kristy, her lower lip trembling. "I was hoping I was wrong. I was hoping you guys would tell me I was imagining things. Or being too dramatic or something." "Oh, honey," said Mrs. Brewer. "I'd like to do that. Parents want to protect their children from everything that's bad. But they can't." Kristy rested her head on her mother's shoulder. "Maybe I am wrong, though." Chapter 10.

"I guess," began Kristy, "that you guys are wondering what's going on." I nodded.

"Yes," replied Jessi and Mal and Dawn.

"We need to talk about Mrs. Lowell," said Kristy.

I felt as if a block of ice had been dropped in my stomach. Something was very wrong. Kristy had been quiet at school that day, even during lunch. Now she was sitting in my director^ s chair, conducting a club meeting, but she'd forgotten to put on her presidential visor. And instead of sticking her pencil over her ear, she was toying nervously with it in her lap, twisting it in and out of her fingers.

Mrs. Lowell. Kristy had taken Mary Anne's sitting job at the Lowells' the day before. What had happened. What had Mrs. Lowell said? I was convinced I was in trouble.

Kristy bit her lip.

"What is it, Kristy?" asked Stacey. "What's wrong?" Kristy looked so uncomfortable that I decided to save her from further torture. "1 guess it's my fault. I blew my job at the Lowells and they've decided not to use the club anymore, right?" I said. "It's okay, Kristy. Just come out and say it." Kristy couldn't look up. "That isn't exactly what's going on. But I guess I am trying to spare your feelings, Claud. Look, you guys. I think I made a horrible discovery. I talked about it with Mom and Watson and Nannie last night, and they think I might be right. The worst thing is, if I am right, we can't do anything." "Kristy, please just tell me what - " Dawn began.

"The Lowells are prejudiced," said Kristy in a rush. "Claud, they didn't like you because you're Japanese. Jessi, Mrs. Lowell wouldn't even let you in her house because you're African-American." My mouth dropped open. "But I'm a good baby-sitter!" I protested. I could feel my hands trembling and my cheeks burning. "That's - that's not fair! It really isn't fair." I looked at Jessi who was sitting cross-legged on the floor with Mallory. She wasn't saying anything.

"Jessi, aren't you mad?" I demanded. "At least Mrs. Lowell let me in the house. She closed her door to you." "It's happened before," said Jessi quietly.

"Well, not to me!" I cried. For some reason I felt ashamed and I had the uncomfortable feeling that Kristy, Mary Anne, Mallory, Stacey, and Dawn felt ashamed for Jessi and me. "So - so what does being Asian have to do with being a good sitter?" I sputtered.

"Nothing," replied Jessi. "Prejudice doesn't make sense." '"It isn't rational or logical," added Mary Anne.

I was growing angry. The ice in my stomach had turned into a flame and now it was rising up, filling me, surrounding me. The problem was that I didn't know who to be angry at, since Mrs. Lowell wasn't in the room. Finally I got angry at my friends. "Will you guys at least look at me?" I shouted. "I am not dirt, you know. Nothing is wrong with me." "Mrs. Lowell thinks we'll contaminate her children - and her house," said Jessi bitterly.

"Yeah, Mrs. Lowell thinks that," said Stacey pointedly.

"Sorry," I muttered.

"If it's any consolation," said Dawn, "I bet the Lowells don't like Jews or Indians or Buddhists or Puerto Ricans or anyone who isn't white and just like their perfect family." "Well, I'm not sure it's comforting to know I'm not the only one the Lowells hate - "I started to say.

"Claud, they don't hate you," spoke up Jessi. "They just don't understand you. That's the way my dad explained it to me once." "What do they have to understand?" I cried, still outraged. "I have two eyes, two ears, a nose, and a mouth, just like the Lowells. I live in a house like the Lowells' house. I have a family like the Lowells. My parents go to work and my sister and I go to school and when we get hungry we eat and when we get tired we sleep and we laugh and cry and fall in love. Just like the Lowells." "Same here," said Jessi, "but my skin is black. And your eyes slant, Claud." "So what?" "That's why prejudice isn't rational." "It must be hard to grow old," said Kristy.

I looked at her in confusion. "What?" "Something Nannie said last night. She said she expected racism to decrease with each generation - or something like that - and that she's disappointed because things aren't getting better." "Well, it does seem like things used to be worse," said Mallory hesitantly. "For hundreds of years African-Americans were kept as slaves. And during the Second World War the Nazis killed Jews and Catholics. But things are better now . . . aren't they?" "Ever heard of the skinheads?" asked Stacey. "They beat up on people who are black or middle eastern or - or lots of things. And they live right here in the United States. Today. Same with the KKK." "The what?" I frowned.

"The Ku Klux Klan," Jessi supplied. "They still exist. And not just in the south. In the north. In cities. In lots of places." Mary Anne's eyes had filled with tears. "This is scary," she whispered. "I wonder if those skinheads could get me for anything. I think maybe some of my ancestors were Russian. I wonder if that's a problem." "Ooh, now I understand what Nannie meant," said Mallory. "1 guess as long as there's prejudice and misunderstanding, there's trouble. And innocent people worry and get hurt." "Or killed," added Dawn.

Shame, anger, now fear. My feelings were jumbled up.

The phone rang then, and I jumped. I'd completely forgotten we were in a BSC meeting.

Jessi picked up the receiver. "Hello, Baby-87 sitters Club." She listened for a moment and her face became a mask. "Just a minute," she ^said coldly. "You can talk to Kristy." Jessi handed the phone across the room. "It's Mrs. Lowell," she said in a tone of voice I'd never heard her use. "I thought you might want to talk to her." Kristy nodded. "Hello?" she said. And then, "I'll call you back." "Why are you going to call her back?" I exploded as Kristy hung up the phone. "I was waiting for you to blow her off." "So was I," replied Kristy, "but she took me by surprise. I couldn't think of what to say. Listen to this. Mrs. Lowell actually had the nerve just now to ask for the blonde-haired, blue-eyed baby-sitter she's heard about. Can you believe it? Who does she think we are? Who does she think I am? She knows I'm not blonde-haired and blue-eyed. Does she mean I'm not good enough to sit for her again?" "See, Claudia?" spoke up Mary Anne. "I guess I wasn't such a hot baby-sitter after all. Mrs. Lowell isn't asking for me again either. Now you don't have to feel so bad." Kristy was wearing a small smile. "You guys?" she said. "What are we going to do? When you think about it, this is sort of funny." "Hysterical," I said.