Ann Martin - Baby-Sitters Club 027

You can tell I have a nice family. I live with my parents, eight-year-old sister Becca (that's short for Rebecca) and my baby brother Squirt. No, his real name's not Squirt, it's John Philip Ramsey, Jr. But when he was born, he was the tiniest baby in the hospital, so the nurses gave him a special nickname.

As I said, my family and I live in Stoneybrook, Connecticut, but we used to live in Oakley, New Jersey, and that was great because my grandparents lived on the same street as we did and so did a lot of my aunts and uncles and cousins. One of my cousins, Keisha, was my very best friend. She and I have the exact same birthday, and Keisha always seemed to know what I was feeling about things.

I'd lived in Oakley since I was a baby, but then Daddy's company transferred him to Stamford, Connecticut, so we found this house in Stoneybrook, nearby. I'll tell you honestly, sometimes I still miss Oakley. It was a little easier to be myself there. And I especially miss Keisha. I mean, how many best friends have known each other since they were one day old?

Well, Stoneybrook doesn't have Keisha. And it doesn't have my wonderful grandparents or my aunts and uncles. But it does offer a lot of other things. Since we moved here, I enrolled in a very good ballet school in Stamford. To get in, I had to audition. And then Daddy built me my very own ballet barre and practice area in our basement. I also found myself another best friend. Her name is Mallory Pike. And because of Mallory, I now belong to one of the greatest clubs in the world - the Baby-sitters Club. Maybe that's been the best thing about moving to Stoneybrook.

The club was the great idea of Kristy Thomas. She's an eighth-grader who goes to my school. Last year, when she was in seventh grade, she got together with a bunch of friends who love to baby-sit and they formed a club. They sent out fliers to all the families in the neighborhood - very professional - and pretty soon they had a booming business. Leave it to Kristy. She's a take-charge type of person. The club meets three afternoons a week - Monday, Wednesday, and Friday from 5:30 until 6:00 - and families who need a baby-sitter know to call us up during club hours. The great thing is that one of us is bound to be free. So our clients are sure of getting a sitter and, meanwhile, we get plenty of jobs. Everybody's happy! All the club members are eighth-graders except for Mallory and me. Mallory got in because all the Baby-sitters knew her. See, the girls had sat a lot for Mallory's family, the Pikes. Oh, 1 guess 1 forgot to tell you. Mallory is from a big family, and I'm talking big. Believe it or not, there are eight kids in the Pike family. Mallory's the oldest. Mrs. Pike used to hire sitters from the club and Mallory would always help them out. Of course, being the oldest of eight, Mallory was always great with the kids. So when there was an opening in the club, Kristy decided to let her in. Lucky me, she decided to let me in at the same time! How did I get started on all this? Wasn't I telling you about Becca and the TV show? Well, to get back to the beginning of the story, there I was in the kitchen with Mama, Daddy, and Squirt. And there was Becca in the living room, bellowing at us with the full power of her lungs. Mama looked at Daddy.

"Do you think someone wants our attention?" she said, and laughed.

"You guys!" Becca was now standing in the kitchen doorway. Her arms were crossed over her chest and she had this expression on her face that said, I can't believe you guys are just standing there when the best show on TV has come on.

"ABADA!" said Squirt. (He loves to be in on any conversation.) "Okay, everybody!" Becca said. "If you hurry, you won't miss anything." Mama lifted Squirt out of his high chair and wiped his face clean with the washcloth we keep in the kitchen for that purpose.

"So what is this five-star show we're missing?" Daddy asked.

"P.S. 162," I explained. "Becca says all the kids in her class watch it every Friday night. I think Becca has a crush on one of the kids in it." "I do not!" Becca cried. She was already back in the living room and settled in her seat. Mama followed her and set Squirt on the carpet. Then she and Daddy squeezed onto the couch next to Becca. I laid down on the floor on my back and lifted one of my legs toward me to stretch it out. Sometimes when 1 watch TV, I use the time to do stretching exercises. I've got my family trained. They're completely used to seeing me sprawled all over the floor like a contortionist. Becca's the only one who ever complains, and that's only if I block her view of the screen.

"Where's the popcorn?" Daddy joked, as we all settled down for the show.

"Shh!" Becca said. Her eyes were glued to the TV, even though all that was on was a commercial for toothpaste.

I'd seen this show, P.S. 162, a couple of times before, and I'd liked it okay. But until that day I'd never thought it was anything special. It's about an inner city elementary school, and the class includes all different kinds of kids. The character Becca has a crush on is named Lamont. He's black, and in the show he's the most popular kid in the class. For good reason, too - Lamont is smart, funny, and good-looking. In the class, there're also Latin kids, Asian kids, and white kids. One of the white characters is named Waldo, and I've got to admit, he always makes me laugh. He's got weird, spiky hair and he wears this pair of thick black glasses and he's an incredible science whiz. You know, one of those kids who lives and breathes science, but put him in the real world and he can barely tie his shoes. When he talks to the other kids, he always uses big, science-y words like "zygotes" and "ecosystem," and of course the other kids don't have a clue what he's talking about.

That night, finally - after what seemed like about a hundred commercials - the show came on. In the opening scene, as a joke, one of the kids swiped Lament's homework and Lamont was looking for it everywhere. Class was about to begin. The teacher rapped on her desk to get everyone's attention and then asked for a volunteer to write the homework on the board. She stared at Lamont. He slunk low in his desk chair, trying to avoid her gaze.

"Lamont," the teacher said.

From her seat on the couch, Becca let out a long, low wail. "Oh, no!" she cried. You would've thought Becca was the one caught without her homework.

Daddy started to laugh.

"I take it Lamont is the boy Becca's got a crush on," he teased.

"Shhh!" Becca said.

Just then in the show Waldo raised his hand.

"Miss Pedagogue," he said, very seriously. "I've got the correct answer. Allow me." He strode up to the board and wrote the word "fission" in big block letters. The teacher groaned and buried her head in her hands.

"Waldo," she said, "1 hate to break it to you, but this is history class. After history comes English. And then, after English, comes science. How about if you just hang onto your answer for a couple more periods? Believe me, when it's science, I'll let you know." Waldo got flustered and dropped the magnifying glass that he keeps in his pocket onto the floor. All the other kids in the class laughed. So did the voices on the laugh track.

When that scene was over, P.S. 162 faded off for a commercial break and an ad for some gasoline company came on.

Becca stared dreamily at the screen.

"Isn't Lamont the cutest guy in the world?" she said with a sigh.

"He's pretty nice, all right," Mama agreed.

"I think Waldo's funnier," I said.

"You like Waldo?" Becca said. "So does everyone in my class. Charlotte Johanssen said that the kid who plays him used to go to Stoneybrook Elementary School." (Charlotte Johanssen is Becca's best friend. She's lived in Stoneybrook a lot longer than we have.) "Is that true?" asked Mama.

"Cross my heart," said Becca. She traced an X on her chest over her heart. Then she spit on her finger and raised her hand in a sort of oath. I still didn't know whether to believe her. "Charlotte said he always used to get his picture in the paper here. But now he lives in L.P." "L.A." I corrected her. "Los Angeles - in California." Hmm. Well, maybe Becca was telling the truth. She certainly seemed to have enough details.