Ann Martin - Baby-Sitters Club 027

Getting the mail is the highlight of any day for me, and I felt I needed the highlight just then. So I wheeled Lucy around to the front of my house and down the driveway. I opened the box. I looked inside. Stuffed! I absolutely adore a stuffed mailbox. I listened to the cries and shouts of Jamie, Myriah, and Gabbie while I struggled to pull everything out of the box. Then I pushed Lucy up to our front stoop, where I sat down and dropped the mail into my lap. There was so much it overflowed and fell on the ground. Lucy laughed as I tried to pick it up.

At last it was stacked neatly next to me. I sorted it into piles: bills for Dad, letters for Dad, magazines, catalogues, stuff we could probably throw out, letter for me. . . . Wait a sec. A letter for me?! I hardly ever get letters.

I picked up the envelope. It must be from Stacey, I thought. But, no, the address wasn't in her handwriting. Ooh, very exciting. A mystery letter! "Now this," I told Lucy, "is why I like getting the mail. You never know what you might find. I can't wait to see who this letter's from." Lucy blew me a raspberry, then smiled angelically.

I opened the envelope.

What I found inside gave me goose bumps.

"On, no," I cried softly.

Written in big, messy writing was a short message: If yoo want to see your cat alive again leave $160 in an envelope on The biq rocK in Brenner Field this aftrnoon.

A picture of Tigger was taped to the bottom of the page. It had been cut from one of the posters we'd made.

I swallowed, feeling sick. So Tigger had been kidnapped? But why? Because someone needed a hundred dollars?

"This is curious," I said to Lucy. What I meant was that it was chilling, horrible, disgusting, and the meanest thing in the world - only I couldn't say that in front of a little baby.

But what was I doing? Tigger had been kidnapped, and I was sitting on my front steps, talking to Lucy. I jumped up, dumped the mail in our front hall, then found Jamie and the Perkins girls.

"Listen, I'm sorry," I said to Jamie, "but it's time to go home." "Good," he replied. "We're bored. And I have to go to the bathroom." "Again?" I said. "Then let's go." We walked Gabble and Myriah to their house, then returned to the Newtons'.

I felt shaky all over by that time. I had to do something, but what? What do you do when someone is asking for a whole lot of money in order to give back something you love - and you haven't got the money? My friends and I had just barely been able to scrape together thirty dollars. There was a little more money in the treasury, but nothing close to seventy dollars. Maybe I could use the thirty dollars reward money and borrow seventy dollars from Dad. He must have seventy dollars in the bank. I could pay him back later from money I earned baby-sitting.

Okay. There was the solution. I felt a little calmer.

I was standing in the kitchen next to the telephone. From there, I could see into the Newtons' family room, where Jamie was watching Sesame Street and Lucy was sitting in her playpen. I hated to leave them there, but I was going to have to, for a few minutes anyway.

I picked up the phone. I dialed Dad's office. First I got cut off. Then I got a busy signal - three calls in a row. When I finally reached my father's secretary, she said he was on an important call, dear, and would I please hold?

I told her that no, I wouldn't, thank you. As I hung up, I thought, my call was important, too.

But maybe this was better. Maybe telling Dad about Tigger's ransom note wasn't a good idea. Dad's a lawyer. He would probably freak out, and he certainly wouldn't allow me to go to Brenner Field the next day.

I made another call. This one was to Logan. Kerry answered the phone, sounding quite cheerful, and handed me over to her big brother, who was actually home, which I hadn't really expected. He plays so much ball these days that he's usually on the field at school.

"Hi," 1 said glumly.

"Hi," he replied, just as glumly.

"You'll never guess what happened. Tigger has been kidnapped." "What?" (That wasn't the "What?" I'd been hoping for. I'd been hoping for a "WHAT??/") "That's right," I went on. "They left a ransom note." I read it to Logan. Then, tearfully, I added, "Oh, Logan, what are we going to do?" "We?" "Well, you and I and the rest of the Babysitters Club." There was a pause. "I'll have to think," replied Logan.

"We have a club meeting today," I told him hopefully.

Another pause. "All right. I'll be there. I guess it would make sense to discuss the problem together." "Thanks, Logan," I said. "I'll call Kristy and tell her what's going on. She should have been the one to ask you to the meeting, but I think she'll understand about this. It's an emergency." (Kristy loves emergencies.) Logan and I got off the phone then so I could call Kristy. She was completely understanding. Certainly more so than Logan. I couldn't help thinking that he didn't seem concerned. And that hurt. But when I told Kristy about the ransom note, I got the "WHAT??!" I'd been waiting for.

"See you at five-thirty," said Kristy, as we were getting off the phone. "And don't worry. We're going to get Tigger back. The Babysitters Club can do anything." Chapter 10.

Mrs. Newton came home at 5:15 that afternoon, so I made it to Claudia's house just a few minutes before the beginning of our club meeting. I brought the ransom note with me, envelope and all. (Once, near Halloween, 1 had received a mysterious chain letter. The other girls were really upset with me for throwing away the envelope it had arrived in, so I was careful to keep the envelope from the ransom note.) When we had all gathered, even Logan, we sat in Claud's room sort of stiffly. This always happens when Logan comes to a meeting. It's because he's a boy. Even though we know him and like him (especially me!), he just makes a meeting different. We worry about things such as what if Logan sits on something lumpy and it turns out to be some of Claudia's underwear? Or what is someone says "bra" or starts to tell a story about a girl we know who might be going out with a friend of Logan's? Not that Kristy lets much of that go on during meetings, but it does happen from time to time.

Anyway, Kristy got the opening business over with fast. Then she said, "Today is going to be a combination regular club meeting and an emergency meeting. We'll take job calls, but in between, we'll try to figure out how to handle the ransom note." For some reason, that made me burst into tears. "Oh, that is so wonderful of you guys," I said. "You're the best friends in the world." I paused. "But where are we going to get seventy dollars?" Logan was sitting right next to me on the bed, which squished us next to Dawn and Claudia, but he didn't do anything when I started to cry. So Claudia, on the other side of me, patted my arm and then gave me a hug. I had the feeling she wanted to give Logan a dirty look while she was at it.

"Let's not worry about the money just yet," said Kristy as I was drying my eyes. "For starters, we should take a look at the ransom note." "Yeah," said the others.

But the phone rang then and we had to stop to schedule a job. When we were finished, I pulled the note out of my pocket.

"1 saved the envelope," I said pointedly.

My friends smiled. They knew what 1 was talking about.

I took the note out and laid it and the envelope side by side on the bed. Everyone crowded in for a look.

"It's those first words that scare me," I said. "They're so threatening. If you want to see your cat alive again . . .' It sounds like, well, if anything goes wrong, then Tigger will be . . . will be ... Oh, I can't say it. Or maybe he already is ... dead." My tears started to fall again and I glanced hopefully at Logan, but he was staring off into space.

"Well," said Jessi, "the handwriting on the envelope and on the note are the same." "But is this the real thing or some kind of trick?" asked Claudia, our mystery expert. "Any time there's a missing person, it seems as if about a million ransom notes suddenly turn up." "Yeah," agreed Mallory.