Mary Anne And Camp Read online

  Mary Anne And Camp

  Ann M. Martin

  BSC086 - Mary Anne and Camp BSC - Martin, Ann M.

  Chapter 1.

  Pike's Peak.

  The two words just jumped into my head as I watched Mallory Pike's seven younger siblings and Pow Barrett Pike, the Pikes' basset hound, playing a game of freeze tag.

  Pike's Peak is this famous mountain out west that was a sort of landmark for the European settlers who were headed for the coast.

  But the Pike's Peak I was thinking about is written this way: Pikes' Peak.

  Because the Pikes were at the peak of their energy and activity. Okay, it's a pretty dumb pun, but peak is an almostquiet way of describing what I was watching. Adam, Byron, and Jordan, who are ten and are identical triplets (although they weren't dressed alike — they'd die these days before they'd dress alike, except maybe for a practical joke), were charging around making wild grabs at everybody. Vanessa, who is a budding poet, was dodging

  madly and shrieking, "Freeze, freeze, if you please!" Nicky, who is eight, and Margo, who is seven, had hunched themselves into horrible, contorted, frozen shapes. Claire, who is five, was laughing and jumping out of the way as everyone pretended they were about to grab her and then "missed." And Pow was racing in and out among them all howling "Hoo, hoo, hoo!," his big, long ears flapping as he ran.

  Mallory, who is eleven and a junior member of the Baby-sitters Club (of which I am the secretary, but more about that later) as well as the senior sibling of the Pike family, nudged me with her shoulder. "You're it," she said with a grin.

  I grinned back. We were sitting on the back steps of their house. What were we doing? You guessed it. Baby-sitting. Pike-sitting. The Pikes always ask for two sitters when they call the Baby-sitters Club. Not that the Pikes are .bad kids or hard to handle or anything like that. But there are a lot of them and they have tons of energy (see above).

  Claire made a grab at Jordan, who toppled over. "I'm frozen, I'm frozen," he wailed and writhed on the ground before "freezing" into a pretzel shape.

  "You iced Jordan, Claire," said Adam. "But you won't ice me!"

  "Baroo! BarooOOOO!" howled Pow ecstatically.

  Mal rolled her eyes. "I think all this spring and school-about-to-be-out stuff has gone to the triplets' heads."

  "I know," I said. "It's just too bad we can't channel some of that energy and use it for, I don't know, electricity or something."

  "Yeah. Dawn would approve of that. It would be very environmentally correct." Mal was talking about Dawn Schafer, who is my stepsister, one of my two best friends, and a fellow member of the BSC. She is also, in case you hadn't guessed, very environmentally conscious. But more about that later.

  I laughed. "I wonder how you'd do it?"

  "Beats me," Mal said. We sat in comfortable silence for awhile and watched the frozen victims all come back to life and start over again. Then Mal said, "I can't believe school will be over in just three weeks!"

  "Me either. And I can't wait. I feel like all I've been doing lately is studying for tests and doing homework and baby-sitting. I haven't even had time to clean up my room lately."

  "Don't worry. Your room will still be there."

  "I know. But it bugs me. I like to have things neat."

  Mal grinned. "In my family, I just like

  knowing where things are. With eight kids and two adults picking things up and putting them away, watch out!"

  "Hey, when you've got a stepmother like Sharon putting things away, watch out!"

  We laughed. Sharon Schafer Spier, who is my stepmother and Dawn's mother, is, well, an imaginative housekeeper. I've found cans of beans on bookshelves and books in the linen closet. Sharon is absentminded that way, just the opposite of my father, the king of neat. But opposites attract, they say. And my father and Sharon are crazy about each other. I'm pretty crazy about Sharon, too. It's nice having her for a stepmother, and extra nice having Dawn as one of my two best friends and my sister ...

  Wait a minute. I'm getting ahead of myself. I'm Mary Anne Spier. I'm thirteen years old. I'm kind of short, and I have brown hair and brown eyes. People say I'm sensitive and that's probably true. Sometimes it's a pain, because the littlest, dumbest things can make me cry (even some commercials on television). And I'm shy, too. On the other hand, I think being sensitive and shy helps me listen to people and be more understanding.

  I live in Stoneybrook, Connecticut, where I'm in eighth grade at Stoneybrook Middle School. I've lived here all my life, most of the

  time as an only child and a half orphan. . Half-orphan sounds sad, I guess. But my mother died when I was just a baby, so I can't really remember her. My father raised me by himself.

  My father was strict, but loving. He was, as I got older, a little overprotective. He was so worried about being a single parent that I guess he was overcompensating. Anyway, for a long time, he made me wear my hair in braids and chose all these really little kid clothes for me. But with the help of my friends, I was finally able to bring him around. I can buy any kind of clothes I want now (within reason) and I even got a new haircut not too long ago. I also got a kitten named Tigger.

  There's Logan, too. Logan is the cutest boy in all of SMS and possibly Stoneybrook. He looks just like Cam Geary, the star (okay, so I'm not that objective, but still, it's true). He's from Kentucky originally and has this cool southern accent.

  And he's my boyfriend. See how much my father's changed?

  But that's not the biggest change in my father's life — or mine, for that matter. The biggest change is Sharon.

  That's right. Dawn's mom.

  You see, Sharon grew up in Stoneybrook.

  In fact, years ago she used to date my father. But they lost touch after high school and Sharon ended up in California. Then when Dawn's mom and dad got divorced, Sharon moved back to her hometown with her two children, Dawn, and Dawn's younger brother, Jeff.

  That's where we come in. Dawn and I had already become best friends (in fact, I'm the one who suggested that Dawn join the BSC, which is what we call the Baby-sitters Club). Then we discovered the ancient romance between my dad and her mom. So, with a little help from us, the two of them started dating. And fell in love all over again.

  And got married.

  Which proves that opposites do attract, as I said before. My dad, Mr. Neat and Organized, is a lawyer. He alphabetizes the books on his bookshelves. He arranges his socks by colors in the drawer. He's never, ever late for anything. His car looks as if he just bought it.

  You get the picture.

  And Sharon? Well, I've found a letter that she meant to mail stuck in the bathroom cabinet, and dishwashing soap in the laundry room. Plus Sharon, like Dawn and Jeff, is pretty health-food conscious. Sharon and Dawn never, ever eat red meat (Jeff does sometimes, I think) and they avoid sugar as if it

  were poison. My dad is a mashed potatoes and meat loaf kind of guy.

  But all of that didn't matter and still doesn't, I guess, because they love each other. So now we're a blended, bicoastal family. We're blended because we're two smaller families that have become one big family. And we're bicoastal because Jeff eventually decided to move back to California with his dad (and Dawn just recently spent much too long a time out there on a visit).

  We live in this neat house out on Burnt Hill Road. It's an old farmhouse built back in the seventeen hundreds and it even has a secret passage that might be haunted.

  Although I'd always wanted a sister, my new family was a bit overwhelming at first (for Dawn, too, I found out). But we really care about each other. I like living in a big family. Well, compared to the Pikes it's not such a huge family, but you see what I mean. I wouldn't have it any other way.

  "Huge," said
Mal.

  "Huh?" I said, wondering if she'd turned into a kind of mind reader.

  "The chunk of time after school is out at the end of June."

  "What do you mean?" I asked.

  "Well, the camps that most of the kids go to don't begin for three whole weeks. And the

  civic center won't start its summer activities until the middle of July."

  I was beginning to see what Mal was talking about. "Three weeks of kids out of school, parents still at work — and lots of jobs for the BSC," I said.

  "Maybe too many," said Mal. "Since we're, you know, a little short-handed."

  I nodded. Neither Mal nor I particularly wanted to talk about it. We were short-handed because one of the members of the club had quit not top long before. Stacey McGill, our treasurer, had just left the BSC — and her friends — for her boyfriend and his group of "more sophisticated" friends.

  It was true. They were more sophisticated than most of us in a way. But it still hurt.

  Quickly I said, "So what're we going to do about it? Get a new member of the BSC?"

  "We could, I guess," Mal said. "But who? And where?"

  We were quiet for a moment, thinking it over. At last we looked at each other and shook our heads.

  "I vote we make this club business," Mal said. "Bring it up at the next meeting."

  "Good idea," I said.

  "Come play!" Claire shrieked.

  "Okay." Mal suddenly grinned. She jumped up.

  "Hey," I said. "Wait for me!"

  We played freeze tag until Mal's mother came home.

  Maybe I wasn't all that sophisticated. And maybe, I thought, making a dive for Mal, I didn't care if I ever was.

  We often eat dinner a little later than most people, because my father works late. He was almost too late for dinner that night. We were just sitting down at the table when we heard the back door open.

  "I'm home and a happy man!" he announced, pausing in the doorway of the dining room. He leaned over to give Sharon a quick kiss. "Just let me hang up my coat and put my briefcase…"

  His voice trailed off as he hurried down the hall.

  He was back in a minute. "Hmmm. Smells good. What's the entree?"

  "Three-cheese macaroni," said Dawn. "It's a recipe I made up."

  "Sounds great," said Dad. He sat down. He smoothed his napkin onto his lap. He picked up his fork.

  We'd all started eating by then. It was a great dinner, California-vegetarian-Schafer style, with some Spier touches thrown in, such as the double garlic and onion toast I'd made.

  I put chopped up little chunks of garlic and onion on top of the toast and it looked pretty good.

  I waited for my dad to taste everything and talk about how delicious it was—something he almost always does.

  But he just sat there, holding his fork, looking around the table.

  I knew something was up.

  I put down my fork. Was something wrong? But my dad looked pretty cheerful. And hadn't he just announced that he was a happy man?

  So now two of us were holding our forks and not eating. Dad met my eyes and he grinned. He cleared his throat.

  At almost exactly the same time, Sharon and Dawn looked up. Sharon put her fork down, too. Dawn stopped in mid-macaroni bite.

  "Richard?" said Sharon. "What is it?"

  My father cleared his throat again. "Yes. Well. I have some good news. Some outstanding news. Some excellent news."

  "Richard!"

  "Our law firm is merging with another firm — "

  Sharon immediately looked relieved. "Oh, yes. I remember you'd talked about that being in the works."

  "Yes. It's all set. It's a great opportunity for

  us." My father was using his "lawyer" tone of voice now. I had to smile.

  "Congratulations, Dad," I said.

  "Super, Richard," said Dawn.

  "Thank you, both of you." My father looked pleased. "I'll be traveling more, at least at first." He cleared his throat for a third time. "Beginning with a two-week trip to Cincinnati in July."

  "Two weeks!" Sharon smiled at Dad. "Sounds important."

  "It is," Dad said.

  Sharon looked at Dawn and me. "Well, we can bach it," she said. She pronounced it "batch."

  Dawn and I gave her puzzled looks, but my dad let out a shout of laughter. "I haven't heard that term in a long, long time," he said. "I think my grandfather used it."

  " 'Bach' it?" asked Dawn.

  "Make like bachelors. Be bachelor girls," explained Sharon.

  It sounded pretty old-fashioned to me.

  "Cool," Dawn said. "We'll order take-out food every night and stay up late and..."

  I was beginning to get the picture. "And have wild parties!" I added.

  Dad and Sharon looked at each other. I could see them making all kinds of "eye conversation," if you know what I mean.

  "Sounds good to me," Dad said at last. He looked down at his plate as if he'd just discovered it was there. "Dinner!" he said. "I'm hungry!"

  We all started laughing then.

  Chapter 2.

  "This meeting of the Baby-sitters Club will come to order," Kristy Thomas said.

  "Who ordered the sour cream potato chips?" asked Claudia Kishi from the back of her closet.

  "Me," said Mal, who was sprawled across Claudia's bed.

  "Me, too," said Jessica Ramsey, aka Jessi, who was sitting on the floor next to the bed.

  "Ahem," said Kristy, clearing her throat. I gave her a startled look. For a moment, she'd sounded just like my father.

  "Here," said Claudia, backing out of the closet. "Now where are those jujubes?"

  We started laughing, because Kristy, who was the one frowning at Claudia for not paying attention now that the meeting had come to order, was holding the jujubes.

  "Okay, okay," said Kristy good-naturedly.

  "Dues," said Dawn and we groaned. We

  always do. It's practically a requirement — along with paying the dues! The dues cover BSC expenses and the occasional pizza blast.

  It was Monday (and dues day), and it was 5:31, and we were in Claudia Kishi's room. The BSC meets three days a week, Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, from five-thirty to six. That's when our clients call us to set up appointments. That's also when we take care of club business.

  There are eight of us in all: me, Mallory, Claudia, Kristy, Jessi, Dawn, Shannon Kilbourne, and Logan. We weren't all there, though. Logan is an associate member and doesn't come to many meetings. (He does help us out, though, when we can't fit a job into our schedules or have too many jobs to handle.)

  Kristy is the president of the BSC. That's not only because she's the world's most organized person (more organized than my father, even) but also because the BSC was her brilliant idea.

  It happened this way: one day Kristy was listening to her mother call baby-sitter after baby-sitter without success. That's when it hit her. What if a person could call just one phone number and reach several experienced sitters?

  That's how the Baby-sitters Club got started. At first it was just four of us: Kristy, me, Claudia, and Claudia's new friend Stacey McGill, but the idea caught on and we soon had to expand. Now, even with eight of us, there's plenty of work. And plenty of room for Kristy's organizational talents. Today the BSC, tomorrow the world.

  Kristy was my first best friend. We lived next door to each other on Bradford Court. (Claudia lived across the street from us, in the house where she still lives). Kristy and I are very, very different. Not outwardly, so much. Kristy is short, even shorter than I am, and she's a pretty casual dresser. She wears what we call her uniform: jeans, a turtleneck or T-shirt, and running shoes. She often wears a cap with a picture of a collie on it, in memory of her family's old dog Louie, who was a collie. He died not too long ago.

  Having a "uniform" is one way of being organized, I think. I mean, Kristy doesn't have to spend any time worrying about what she's going to wear.

  Anyway, Kristy has brown eyes, l
ike me, and brown hair (although hers is longer), and she lives in a blended (but not bicoastal) family, too. And we're both pretty stubborn, in our own ways. Some of the fights we had as kids were monuments to stubbornness!

  But that's where the similarities end. Because I'm quiet and shy and Kristy is very sure

  of herself and not afraid of making her opinions known. In fact, some people have even said she has a big mouth.

  Part of the reason Kristy is so outspoken, I believe, is because she grew up with two older brothers and one younger brother. Her older brothers tease Kristy pretty often. But it doesn't bother her. She just teases them back and goes on.

  Kristy's father left when Kristy was a kid. She still remembers him, but he never gets in touch with her, except maybe to send a Christmas card or a birthday card (late). He has a new family now, in California. Kristy never talks about him.

  After Mr. Thomas left, the Thomases had a really tough time. David Michael was still a baby, Mrs. Thomas was working hard to make ends meet, and Kristy and her brothers, Sam and Charlie, had to help out and work hard, too.

  Then things changed. Oh, Kristy's mom still works hard. But they don't live on Bradford Court anymore. They live in a real, live mansion. That's because Kristy's mom met Watson Brewer (who is a real, live millionaire) and they fell in love and got married.

  Now Kristy's family includes not only her three brothers and her mom, but Watson and his two children by a previous marriage, Karen

  and Andrew, plus Emily Michelle, who is Vietnamese and was adopted by Kristy's mom and stepfather. There's also Nannie, who is Kristy's maternal grandmother, who came to help look after Emily Michelle, plus assorted pets, and maybe even a resident ghost!

  You have to be organized and outspoken in a situation like that. So it's not surprising that Kristy is always thinking and always coming up with great ideas. Some of them backfire, but that never stops Kristy. That's probably one of the reasons the BSC is so successful.

  Other big reasons? Us, of course. The other BSC members.

  Claudia Kishi is our vice-president. She was one of the first members of the BSC and she is the only member who has her own phone line. That's why we hold the meetings in her room. Clients can call, and we don't have to worry about tying up the phone line so the rest of her family can't use it.