Dawn Saves the Planet Read online

  Contents

  Title Page

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Letter from Ann M. Martin

  Acknowledgment

  About the Author

  Scrapbook

  Also Available

  Copyright

  “Do you think kids can save the planet?”

  That was the question my science teacher Mrs. Gonzalez asked my class at Stoneybrook Middle School today. Most of the class just sat there like lumps staring at her.

  But not me. I raised my hand and practically shouted, “Yes, of course!”

  I’m Dawn Schafer. I’m thirteen years old and have been known to be pretty outspoken when it comes to environmental issues or organic food. My friends in the BSC (Baby-sitters Club) say I’m a health food nut, just because I don’t eat junk food and red meat. (The sight of a hot dog makes me want to gag!) But my mom and I have always eaten healthy things like raw vegetables, tofu, and brown rice. We feel better because of our diet.

  Mary Anne, my stepsister, is the complete opposite of me. She’s not a junk-food addict, but she does like cookies and candy and hamburgers and French fries, and so does her dad, Richard. Which makes meals at our house pretty crazy.

  Guess what. I’m not from around here. I was born in California. So how did I get to Stoneybrook, Connecticut? Well, you see my mom was born here but years ago she moved to California, where she met and married my dad. Unfortunately, things didn’t work out between them. When they got divorced, she brought me and my brother Jeff back to Stoneybrook.

  At first, I didn’t like Stoneybrook very much, but things really changed after I met Mary Anne. We became instant best friends, even though we’re as different as night and day. She’s short, with brown eyes and brown hair. I’m tall with white-blonde hair that comes down to my waist, plus I’ve got blue eyes.

  Mary Anne is sort of preppie when it comes to clothes. She wears pleated wool skirts and neat white blouses, stuff like that, while I have my own style of dress that my friends in the BSC call California Casual.

  Speaking of the BSC, right after I met Mary Anne, she introduced me to her friends in the Baby-sitters Club. They asked me to join and now the BSC is one of the most important things in my life.

  Now here’s the really weird part: Mary Anne and I discovered that our parents had been in love when they were in high school (we found it out by reading their yearbooks). But they ended up marrying other people. Mary Anne’s mom died when she was really little and her dad, Richard, had to raise her all by himself. He was pretty strict for most of those years, but now all that has changed.

  Anyway, once Mary Anne and I discovered that our parents had been high school sweethearts, we decided to get them back together. And we did! Isn’t that cool?

  Then our parents got married (after dating forever) and now Mary Anne is not only my best friend, but my stepsister, too. Unfortunately, my brother Jeff got homesick and moved back to be with my father in California. I miss him a lot, but he’s much happier with his friends and the warmer weather. It can get super cold here! Especially in the drafty old farmhouse we live in. It’s over two hundred years old and even has a secret passage leading from the barn to my room. I’m not sure, but I think it could be haunted.

  Things were really crazy at our house after our parents got together. Mary Anne and I discovered that even though we liked each other a lot, we have very different habits. For instance, I have to listen to music when I study. Mary Anne needs complete silence. And like I said before, I’m totally into health food. Mary Anne could take it or leave it. Plus, I’m outgoing and a little impulsive. Mary Anne is on the shy side.

  Then there’re our parents, who are also complete and total opposites. My mom is the ultimate slob. Washing dishes or cleaning the house are about the last things she wants to do, whereas Mary Anne’s dad is Mr. Organized-Neat Freak. Everything in his life is labeled, including the socks in his dresser. (I may be exaggerating just a little bit.)

  Even though Mary Anne and I are really different in many ways, there are a lot of things we agree on. Like helping the environment. I know if Mary Anne had been in Mrs. Gonzalez’s class, she would have raised her hand and said, “I agree with Dawn. We can save the planet if we all pull together.”

  Anyway, after I made my announcement in class, Mrs. Gonzalez folded her hands in front of her and smiled at me. “Dawn is right. You can help save this planet, even if you are young. And a good place to start is in your home, or school, or town.”

  Mrs. Gonzalez, who is very cool and has long dark hair that she wears in a thick braid down the center of her back, pointed to the posters she had thumbtacked over the blackboard.

  “I’ve listed things that are going wrong with the environment at this very moment. Dawn, would you read them out loud?”

  All of the kids in the room turned to look at me, and Alan Gray, possibly the most disgusting, immature boy in the eighth grade, crossed his eyes. I tried to ignore him and read the headings to the rest of the class. “Acid Rain and Air Pollution.”

  “Invisible gases are released by cars that burn gasoline, and power plants that burn coal,” Mrs. Gonzalez explained. “These gases can mix with water and make it highly acidic. When these gases get into rain and snow clouds, the acid falls back to the earth, destroying trees and polluting the water in our lakes and rivers. Air pollution also makes it difficult for us to breathe.”

  “Vanishing Animal Life,” I continued reading.

  “As more and more people are born,” Mrs. Gonzalez said, moving down the center aisle of the class, “more and more forests are cut down to make room for them. The areas where wild animals can live are replaced by homes and stores, and the animals become extinct.”

  I wrinkled my nose as I read the next heading. “Too Much Garbage.”

  “When people throw things away, the garbage gets buried in the ground or thrown in the ocean.” Mrs. Gonzalez stopped by my desk and crossed her arms. “Pretty soon there won’t be any more room for our garbage. So what can we do about it?”

  Once again I raised my hand. “Recycle.”

  “That’s right.” Mrs. Gonzalez patted me on the shoulder and this time Alan stuck his tongue out at me. Sometimes I can’t believe how immature he acts.

  “Recycling means reusing paper and glass and aluminum over and over again.” Mrs. Gonzalez returned to the front of the class and tapped the last poster. “And the final heading is what?”

  “Water Pollution,” I read.

  Mrs. Gonzalez nodded. “Every living creature depends on water to survive. But our oceans and rivers are polluted by garbage, and much of the water we drink is being wasted. We need to keep it clean.”

  Then she pointed to another poster. This one was completely blank.

  “Class, your assignment for this grade period is to pick one of these topics and design a project that can help to save our planet. We’ll list them on this poster.”

  Everyone began to talk at once, announcing which category they were going to choose. A couple of groans came from the back of the class but most of the students sounded pretty excited about our new project.

  The noise was so loud that Mrs. Gonzalez had to shout to make her last announcement heard. “You have one week to come up with an idea for your project and hand in a brief description of what you plan to do.” The b
ell rang and she called, “See you tomorrow!”

  I gathered my books, keeping an eye on the posters at the front of the room. My brain was already clicking away. I spent the next hour thinking about ecology. (It’s a good thing I was not called on in social studies, because my mind was not on the French Revolution.) With so many possibilities to choose from, I realized it was going to be hard to pick just one project.

  I decided to discuss the assignment with my friends at lunch. Claudia Kishi and Kristy Thomas were already seated at our regular table when I reached the cafeteria.

  It’s not hard to spot Claud. She dresses in ultra bright colors that look great with her jet black hair. She likes to wear outrageous earrings and hair ornaments that she makes herself. Claud is Japanese-American and has beautiful dark almond-shaped eyes and perfect skin, which is amazing to me because she’s an absolute junk food addict. I’m not kidding. She adores Ring Dings, candy kisses, and Mallomars. Her idea of a good lunch is a chocolate bar with peanuts and a can of fruit punch.

  Then there’s Kristy. When it comes to fashion she couldn’t care less. First of all, Kristy is a full-fledged tomboy. She likes sports and even coaches a softball team called Kristy’s Krushers. She has dark brown chin-length hair that she sometimes tucks under a baseball cap. And most days, like today, she wears her standard uniform — a turtleneck, jeans, and sneakers.

  I waved to Kristy and Claud and then hurried across the crowded lunch room to join them.

  “Guess what?” I announced as I placed my lunch next to Claudia’s. “I’m going to save the planet.”

  Claudia just blinked her dark eyes at me and said, “It’s about time.”

  Kristy took a big bite of her (ick) hamburger and cracked, “I was going to save it but I have a big softball game this afternoon.”

  “You two think you’re so funny.” I swatted at Kristy, who was grinning at me from across the table. “But I mean it. This grade period we’re studying ecology in Mrs. Gonzalez’s science class. She’s asked us to come up with an independent project —”

  “To save the earth,” a voice finished from behind me. It was Stacey McGill, balancing a carton of yogurt and a small salad on her tray. She slipped into the seat beside Kristy. “I’ve got to do the same project. We only have a week to think of something, and so far my mind is a total blank.”

  Stacey is absolutely gorgeous, with fluffy blonde hair and these huge blue eyes with dark eyelashes. She’s also very thin, which is partly caused by the strict diet she is on. You see, Stacey is diabetic, which means her body can’t process sugar. She has to give herself insulin shots (ew) every day! I could never do that in a million years. Besides being a real knock-out, Stacey is very smart and ultra sophisticated. She used to live in New York City, but she and her mom moved to Stoneybrook when her parents got divorced. She still visits the city a lot to see her dad. In fact, sometimes she’s on the train so much she says she feels like a commuter daughter.

  Of all of us, I’d say Stacey is the coolest dresser. Today she was wearing floral leggings, a pink shirt with big sleeves, and a long vest covered in antique pins. A black fedora with a red cloth rose was perched on top of her shoulder length hair.

  “Don’t worry, Stacey,” Claud said. “You’ll think of something. You’re a whiz at math so science should be just as easy.”

  “Not true,” Stacey said, taking a bite of a carrot stick. “They are two totally different subjects.”

  “Not to me,” Claud added. “They both make me crazy. They both involve numbers and words you can’t pronounce and things you have to memorize.”

  “Don’t even mention memorizing,” Mary Anne complained as she and her boyfriend, Logan, joined us at the table. “I think I just bombed a spelling test in English.”

  “Bombed,” Logan repeated in his soft southern accent. (He’s from Kentucky.) “Yeah, right. Mary Anne considers missing one question bombing a test.”

  Mary Anne poked Logan in the ribs with her elbow and he clutched his side and howled, “Ow! She got me!”

  My friends spent the rest of the lunch hour talking about tests and classes, how disgusting the hot lunch was (Claudia called it “The Green Slime”), and what movie everyone wanted to see on the weekend. But I couldn’t take my mind off the science project.

  I thought about it for the rest of the school day and for my entire walk home. Usually Mary Anne walks with me, but she was scheduled to baby-sit for the Perkins girls.

  When I reached my house I headed straight for my room, deciding to make a list of ideas for Mrs. Gonzalez’s class. List-making always helps me decide about important issues. I’ve used it to decide who I’m going to invite to a dance or what outfit I’m going to wear for the first day of school or which homework assignment I’m going to do first.

  I got out a pad and grabbed a black magic marker from my desk. Then I wrote in big bold letters this question:

  HOW CAN I SAVE THE PLANET?

  Our kitchen clock read 5:20. I had only ten minutes to get to Claudia Kishi’s house. I could just make it if I pedaled my bike really fast.

  BSC meetings start promptly at 5:30. Kristy, who’s club president, is really strict about that. She hates for anyone to be even one minute late. Kristy is president partly because the club was her idea and partly because she’s a natural leader.

  Kristy is also great with little kids. That’s probably because she’s had to be very responsible from an early age. Her dad just walked out one day when she was little and left Mrs. Thomas to raise four kids. Kristy has two older brothers and a younger brother. It was pretty hard on Mrs. Thomas until she met Watson Brewer, who is — are you ready for this? — a millionaire! Kristy’s mom married Watson right after Kristy finished seventh grade. Now they live in this absolutely gorgeous mansion across town.

  It’s a good thing Kristy likes kids, because Watson has two little ones, a boy and a girl, from a previous marriage (they live with their father every other weekend, on some holidays, and for two weeks in the summer). Then Watson and Kristy’s mom decided to adopt a little girl from Vietnam. Emily Michelle is two-and-a-half and a total doll. Luckily, Nannie, Kristy’s grandmother, moved in to help with all those kids. On some weekends ten people live at her house. Can you imagine? I guess it’s a good thing they live in that mansion.

  Claudia Kishi is vice-president of the BSC. We hold our meetings at her house since she has her own phone and her own phone number. That’s very important because from 5:30 to 6:00 every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday we need to have that line open to take calls from our clients.

  I already told you that Claud is a really cool dresser. I’m sure it’s because she’s such a great artist. Besides being able to draw, she makes her own earrings, tie-dyes her own clothes, and designs these really neat belts and hair ornaments.

  Claud is smart, too, but she’s a terrible student. And the worst speller on the planet. Which is strange since her sister, Janine, is a full-fledged genius. Her parents are always pushing Claud to study harder and read good books (Claud has to hide her Nancy Drews along with her junk food) but I think they’re proud of her artwork.

  Mary Anne is our secretary. She keeps the club record book where we list clients’ addresses, their phone numbers, and pertinent facts about their kids (like if one of them is allergic to milk, or has to be taken to piano lessons on Thursdays, or whatever). Mary Anne also uses the record book to assign each of us our jobs. Things can get pretty crazy trying to arrange baby-sitting jobs around our schedules. Jessi has dance lessons, Mal has orthodontist appointments, Kristy has softball practice, and Mary Anne has to remember all that. But she has never made a mistake.

  Our treasurer is Stacey because she’s an absolute math whiz. For awhile, when Stacey was gone, I handled the job. You see, I’m the alternate officer in the club. That means if anyone gets sick or moves, I take over her job. Boy, was I glad to see Stacey return to Stoneybrook because, let’s face it, math is not one of my strengths.

  The BSC als
o has two junior members. We call them “junior” because Mallory Pike and Jessica Ramsey are eleven (the rest of us are thirteen). They’re not allowed to baby-sit at night, unless it’s for their own families, so they take a lot of the afternoon and weekend jobs.

  Mal and Jessi are best friends and alike in many ways. First of all, they are complete nuts when it comes to horses. Also, they both love to read and are the oldest kids in their families.

  But they are also very different. Mal has seven brothers and sisters. When Mr. and Mrs. Pike go out, they hire two sitters.

  Jessi, on the other hand, only has one sister, Becca, and one brother, Squirt. (His real name is John Philip Ramsey, Jr., but that’s a big name for such a little guy so the nurses at the hospital where he was born nicknamed him Squirt.)

  Mal wants to be a writer and illustrator of children’s books when she grows up. Jessi would like to be a ballerina. She’s a wonderful dancer and has already performed in several professional productions. And Jessi is black and Mal is white, but that doesn’t matter to them or anyone in the BSC.

  Besides the five officers and two junior members, the BSC also has two associate members: Shannon Kilbourne and Mary Anne’s boyfriend, Logan Bruno. They don’t come to meetings but we call them if we have too many baby-sitting jobs and need a backup.

  So that’s our club. Now I’ll tell you how it works. We meet, as I said, three days a week at Claud’s house. If a client needs a sitter, he (or she) knows to call us during our meetings. This is great because all he has to do is dial one number to reach seven experienced sitters. Usually, one of us is available, and if not, we contact our associates.

  While we wait for the phone to ring (and on some days it never stops!) we hold our club meeting.

  Our president Kristy always sits in Claud’s director’s chair with a visor on her head and a pencil tucked behind one ear. She waits until the digital clock on Claudia’s desk turns from 5:29 to 5:30, and then she calls the meeting to order.

  Mondays are Dues Days and that’s when Stacey collects our money. The dues pay for Claudia’s phone bill and for Kristy’s older brother, Charlie, to chauffeur her across town. (She used to live right across the street but Watson’s mansion is on the other side of Stoneybrook.) We also use the money to buy supplies for our Kid-Kits.