Ann Martin: Baby-Sitters Club 033

BSC033 - Claudia and the Great Search - Martin, Ann M.

Chapter 1.

Click, click, click.

I watched the second hand on the clock in the front of my classroom work its way slowly around and around the dial. When the room was silent, as it was then, every time the hand on the clock jumped forward one second, it made a clicking sound.

It was a faithful old clock. You could depend on it. Every afternoon it clicked its way from 1:10 to 1:51, and when that second hand clicked over to the twelve at precisely 1:51, the bell rang - and I was released from the horrors of science class.

I absolutely can't stand science, especially biology, which was what we were studying. I couldn't keep all those terms straight - cell and nucleus, species and phylum and genus, RNA and DNA and who knows what else. You know what is really stupid? The word species. If you have two different kinds of animals or something, then you have two species. But if you have only one kind, then you still have a species. Why not a specie? Or a specy? You don't have two cats and one cats.

Oh, well.

Click, click, click.

We were supposed to be reading the instructions for an experiment we were going to perform in class that day. Now there's another stupid thing. Year after year, this same teacher makes his students perform the same experiments. Well, if the experiments have been done so many times before, how can they still be experiments? The teacher knows what is going to happen. I thought experimenting meant trying new things to see what would happen. We weren't experimenting at all. We were playacting.

But none of this really mattered. I, Claudia Kishi, was just biding my time. I was not going to have to perform the experiment that day. I was simply waiting for the clock to click to 1:20. Then I got to ... leave early! I couldn't wait.

Well, I couldn't wait to leave science class. I could wait for what I had to do after I left. What did I have to do? I had to go to an awards ceremony at which my older sister, Janine the Genius, was going to be given some big honor. As if she isn't always being awarded for something. Every time I turn around she's getting another certificate or prize, or she's made the honor roll or gotten straight A's again.

My sister and I sure are different. It's hard to believe we're related. I never get awards. Okay, I've gotten a few awards, but they were for my artwork. I'm proud of the awards, and my parents are, too, I think, but Janine just stands out when it comes to schoolwork. Maybe I should tell you a little about my family so you can understand things better.

To begin with, there are four people in my family - Mom, Dad, Janine, and me. Janine is sixteen and a junior at Stoneybrook High School, otherwise known as SHS. (We live in Stoneybrook, Connecticut.) I am thirteen and in eighth grade at Stoneybrook Middle School, or SMS. There used to be a fifth person in our family - my grandmother Mimi. Mimi and I were very close. I could tell her anything. She always listened to me, and she didn't care that I'm not such a hot student. She really liked my art, too. But now Mimi is gone. She died a little while ago. I miss her a lot.

Our family is Japanese-American. Janine and I were born right here in Stoneybrook, though. We've never even been to Japan. My dad is a partner in an investment firm in Stamford, which is a city nearby. My mom is the head librarian at our local public library. I'm stupid and Janine is a genius. Oh, okay. I know that isn't true. I mean, about my being stupid. According to my teachers I'm very smart. I just don't apply myself. I have a little trouble concentrating, and frankly, school doesn't interest me. But art does. I love everything about art. And I'm good at it. I can sculpt, paint, sketch, make collages and jewelry, you name it. I'm not bragging. This is just the way things are.

Then there's Janine. She doesn't care about anything except school. She especially likes computers and science. She's a true and honest genius. She has a genius IQ - over 150. She's so smart that even though she's only in high school, she. gets to take some classes at the community college. She's been doing that for two years now.

Janine and I are as different as night and day.

But back to science class.

Click, click, click. Just when everyone was finishing reading the instructions for the "experiment," the second hand on the clock hit 1:20.

I jumped up.

"I have to go now," I reminded my teacher.

"Okay. See you tomorrow, Claudia," he replied. (It was only Monday, the beginning of a new week of amoebas and paramecia and other biological things.) I gathered up my stuff, dashed out of the classroom and to my locker, where I put away my science text, took out two other books, and grabbed my jacket. Then I raced to the front of SMS.

My father was waiting for me.

"Hi," I said, as I climbed into his car.

"Hi, honey," he replied.

Dad drove through Stoneybrook to the high school. We were going to meet my mother there. I couldn't believe that both of my parents had left their jobs for this awards ceremony. (Well, Mom was going back to hers afterward, since it's so close by, but Dad wasn't. Stamford is too far away.) When we reached the high school, Dad parked our car and we walked to the main entrance of the building. There we found Mom, Peaches, and Russ waiting for us.

Peaches and Russ are my aunt and uncle. (Peaches is Mom's sister.) I love them. They are totally cool and funny. Real characters. Russ is American. I mean, he's not Japanese. And he's the one who came up with the name Peaches. See, Mimi gave Mom and Peaches Japanese names, but Russ started calling my aunt Peaches, and it sort of stuck. Now everybody calls her Peaches. And everybody just calls Russ, Russ. Not even Russell, which is his full first name. Janine and I don't even call them Aunt Peaches and Uncle Russ. They're Peaches and Russ to the whole world. They don't have any children (I think maybe they can't have any), but I wish they did. They would be neat parents.

Mom and Dad and Peaches and Russ and I greeted each other with hugs and handshakes and hellos. Then we went inside the building, and a student directed us to the auditorium. When we got there, Mom told a teacher that we had come to see Janine Kishi receive her award.

"Oh, you're Janine's family," said the teacher in an awed way. "I am so glad to meet you. Please follow me to the reserved portion of the auditorium. You must be awfully proud of Janine." Gush, gush, gush.

Honestly, this teacher, whoever he was, was falling all over himself about Janine. Okay, so she'd won another award. Big deal.

But it was a big deal. I mean, the high school made it a big deal. The teacher led us to a section of seats in the front of the auditorium that had been roped off with gold braid. Tasteful signs that read RESERVED hung from the braid. The teacher made a big show of unroping the third row for us, and my family and I filed in and sat down. We could see Janine and the other kids who'd be getting awards sitting in the first row.

"Congratulations," said the teacher as he left us.

"Thank you," replied Mom and Dad at the same time. They were beaming.

Soon the program began. First the school band played a number. Then the principal said a few words, then the student council president spoke, and finally the vice-principal stepped onto the stage. She was going to present the awards.

I looked around the auditorium. It was packed. All the kids in the school were there, as well as all the teachers, plus several other families like mine. There weren't enough seats for everyone, so some kids were sitting on the windowsills, and the teachers were standing in the aisles. Even the balcony was filled. I looked around for kids I knew - in particular, the older brothers of my friend Kristy - but I couldn't find them.