Baby-Sitters' Island Adventure Read online

  “Exactly.”

  Mom and I hugged. (Again.) I felt much better. Good enough to eat another of the pieces of fruit she’d brought with her.

  Not much later I heard a cry: “There it is! There’s the dock!”

  I turned to look. Sure enough, ahead of us and to our right was the dock and the community center. I almost didn’t recognize the dock, though. As we drew closer, I saw why. It was so covered with people that from a distance it looked furry.

  “Whoa,” I said under my breath.

  Soon the ship was docking. First off were the Newtons and Dr. Weber.

  The crowd cheered.

  Then Mom, Richard, Jeff, and I got off.

  More cheering.

  What was with all the cameras and reporters? I wondered.

  Before I had an answer to my question, I spotted Mary Anne. She and Logan were at the front of the crowd. For the longest time, we just stared at each other. Then Mary Anne held out her arms and I ran to her.

  “I promise never to fight with you again!” I cried, at the same time Mary Anne cried, “I’ll never stop speaking to you again!”

  “Ever?” I asked her. “Even if I forget to give you messages for the rest of my life? Or the rest of your life?”

  “Even then.”

  “Boy,” I said. “I ought to get shipwrecked more often.”

  Mary Anne and Logan and I laughed. And Mary Anne turned to Logan and said, “Do you forgive me? I’m really sorry I thought you stood me up. But what else was I supposed to think? We had arranged to meet and you weren’t there. I hadn’t gotten the message.”

  “I know, I know, I know,” said Logan. “I hope you’ll forgive me.”

  “I will,” replied Mary Anne.

  (Boy. Our rescue was patching up all sorts of arguments.)

  I really think Mary Anne and Logan might have kissed right on the dock, but they realized that Mom and Richard were there, not to mention about a zillion people with cameras.

  I turned away. I wanted to watch the rest of the castaways have their reunions. Haley had been right behind me. Now she and her brother, Matt, were holding a frantic, happy, sign-language reunion. Since Haley’s hands were busier than Matt’s, I had a pretty good idea that she was telling about the adventure and how we had survived.

  Haley and her parents were followed off the ship by Becca and her parents. I watched Becca fly into the arms of Jessi, who was accompanied by Squirt and some lady I didn’t know. The lady looked a little like Mr. Ramsey, but I’d never seen her before.

  “Becca!” Jessi cried.

  “Jessi!” Becca cried.

  It was right out of a movie.

  “You’ll never believe this,” Becca said, speaking at a pretty fast clip, “but I ate fish! I am not kidding.”

  I laughed. Becca spends two days stranded who-knows-where, and all she can say about her adventure is that she ate fish?

  “Hey, Becca,” said Jessi, who was laughing, too. “Would you clear something up for me? Would you tell Aunt Cecelia” (Aunt Cecelia?) “who gave you permission to go sailing?”

  “Mommy and Daddy did,” replied Becca. Then she added, “Aunt Cecelia, how come you’re here?”

  “It’s a long story,” Jessi answered before her aunt could open her mouth. Then she said, “See? It really wasn’t my fault.”

  “Hmphh,” said Aunt Cecelia. But she gave Jessi a half-smile.

  Last off the boat were Claudia and her parents. Claud was greeted by her sister, Janine. They hugged uncomfortably, but looked glad to see each other. I bet Claud couldn’t wait to tell the Genius about her water collector and the mirror signal.

  “Hey! Hey, Dawn!” yelled a voice.

  I looked around. I was in the middle of an enormous, noisy crowd. I saw my brother talking to the Pike triplets. I saw some reporters interviewing parents and scribbling notes on their pads. I saw …

  Kristy! She was edging through the crowd, followed by Mallory and Stacey. In a flash, all of my friends were together. The hugging continued. So did the tears. Best friends were reunited. The Baby-sitters Club was together again.

  “Boy, there were times when I never thought this would happen,” I said.

  “Neither did we,” said Kristy, speaking for all the land-bound sitters.

  “Yeah, this has been some weekend,” added Stacey. “I wanted so badly to come back here and search for you, but Dad wouldn’t let me leave New York till this morning.”

  “And Kristy and I have been out searching for you guys,” spoke up Mal. “We went out in boats yesterday and today.”

  “Bart and I had a huge fight about that, believe it or not,” added Kristy.

  “I wanted to search,” said Jessi, “but Aunt Cecelia wouldn’t let me. She came to stay with Squirt and me when we found out that Becca was gone. Then Mom and Dad came home — and Aunt Cecelia stayed. She is a pain … in … the … neck!”

  “I wanted to search, too,” said Mary Anne, “but I was basically a basket case over the fight I’d had with you, Dawn.”

  That was when I realized that every one of us BSC members had a different story to tell about this weekend. It was also when I decided that those stories should be written down so I would have a record of them.

  A news reporter stuck a microphone in my face then, but I’d barely had time to tell her my name when the director of the community center stepped into the crowd with Stoneybrook’s mayor.

  The director held up his hands. “May I have your attention, please?”

  Flashbulbs flashed. Tape recorders wound along. TV cameras were rolling.

  “Right here,” said the director loudly, “we have two heroes. Dawn Schafer and Claudia Kishi. They are credited with responsibly caring for four younger children, including Jamie Newton, whom we have learned is quite ill. Mayor?”

  The mayor pulled Claudia and me next to her. We stood side by side, as the crowd drew back a little, leaving us in the center of a circle of admirers.

  “These two young women,” said Mayor Keane, “are to be praised for keeping their heads in a difficult, even traumatic, situation.”

  I think the mayor would have continued speaking, especially since the press was there and she was up for reelection, but Dr. Weber nervously interrupted things.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, “but I want every one of these kids to come to the hospital now.”

  “Me?” I exclaimed. “The hospital? Why?”

  “I just want you and the others to be checked over. You’ve had a rough couple of days without much to eat.”

  “But I’m fine,” I protested. “I want to go home.”

  “I’m sure you’ll be able to go home in a couple of hours,” Dr. Weber assured me.

  Reluctantly, Claud, Becca, Haley, Jeff, and I allowed ourselves to be ushered out of the spotlight to our parents, who were waiting to drive us to the hospital. (Jamie and his parents had gone ahead in an ambulance.)

  “ ’Bye!” I called to my friends. “I’ll talk to you later.”

  Mom and Richard had to shield Jeff, me, and even Mary Anne from reporters as we left the community center and headed for our car. I felt like a celebrity. But mostly I was glad to be on my way home.

  Mary Anne didn’t know it yet, but the reason I’d asked her to take notes on the meeting was to help me write about our adventure. I wanted a record of the entire adventure — from the events leading up to it, to the aftermath. And Friday was pretty much the end of things except, of course, that no club member, especially the two of us who’d been stranded on the island, would ever really be quite the same again.

  Friday’s meeting began earlier than most other meetings. This was not because Kristy had asked us to arrive early. We just showed up by about 5:15, instead of later. We’d been spending an awful lot of time together since Claud and I had returned.

  Mary Anne and I were the first to show up.

  “Hi!” we greeted Claudia.

  “Hi,” she replied. “Have you seen the paper yet?” />
  “No. Is the story out already?”

  “Special edition,” said Claud, grinning.

  “Where is it?” I shrieked.

  “I’m not telling. I’m saving it for the beginning of the meeting.”

  “Oh, no! You can’t! That is too unfair! I will die waiting.”

  “You’ve only got about fifteen minutes to go. Anyone who was stranded on an island for forty-eight hours can wait fifteen minutes in my nice, cozy bedroom. Come on. I’ll even feed you. I’ve got plenty of stuff here.”

  Claud began rummaging around under her bed and in her closet. She emerged with Ring-Dings for herself and Mary Anne, and pretzels for me. “Settle down,” she told me.

  Easier said than done. Especially when I realized something. “You’ve read the paper already, haven’t you?”

  “Nope,” said Claud.

  “Come on. How could you have the article and not read it?”

  “I just did, that’s all. I saw the headline … and I hid the paper.”

  “Oh, puh-lease just tell us what the headline says.”

  Claudia caved in. “Oh, all right. The headline says: ‘Connecticut Disaster Victims Tell Their Story.’”

  “Wow,” whispered Mary Anne. “That is so dramatic.”

  A few moments later, Stacey arrived. Then Mal, Jessi, and Kristy showed up. It still wasn’t 5:15.

  “The article is out!” I announced as each club member arrived.

  As soon as Kristy had settled herself in the director’s chair and was wearing her visor, I said, “Okay, Claud. We’re all here.”

  Claudia left the room and returned shortly with the Stoneybrook News. “I hid it in Janine’s room,” she explained.

  She spread the paper open on her bed. We had made the front page. The letters in the headline were each about two inches tall. They took up half the page. I’d never seen anything like it. And as I read the story, I thought back to how it had come about.

  On Monday, after our rescue, we were driven to the hospital. (Well, except for Jamie, who had gone in the ambulance.) We didn’t have to stay long. There wasn’t much wrong with any of us. Haley had a sunburn, despite the haze and our efforts to keep ourselves gooed up with sunscreen. Jeff had cut his foot and not said anything about it and now the bottom of his foot was slightly infected. We were all somewhat hungry, although no one could say we were starving. We weren’t dehydrated, thanks to Claud’s rain collector. We were tired, both physically and emotionally. To be perfectly honest, none of us smelled that great. And we’d been exposed to Jamie, who had a strep throat in addition to an ear infection, but whether we’d caught anything from him would remain to be seen. (So far, none of us has.)

  We were home in time for late dinners with our families that night. (Except, once again, for Jamie, who was spending the night in the hospital, just to be on the safe side.)

  The next day was Tuesday. School started again, but the castaways all got to stay home and rest. Jeff was supposed to have flown back to California the night before, but he went back late Tuesday afternoon instead. And early Tuesday afternoon, Jamie came home from the hospital. Claudia, Haley, Becca, Jeff, and I were there to greet him. (Okay, so we didn’t rest that much.) We were sitting on the Newtons’ front porch when their car drove up.

  The five of us jumped to our feet.

  “Hi, Jamie!” we called. “Welcome home!”

  Mrs. Newton, smiling, climbed out of the car, carrying Lucy. I fully expected Mr. Newton to pick up Jamie and carry him, but Jamie bounced out of the car, wearing a brand-new outfit, his hair freshly washed and slicked back, and ran to his fellow disaster victims.

  “Slow down, Jamie,” warned Mr. Newton.

  But Jamie was feeling too good to slow down.

  “Hi, I’m fine now!” exclaimed Jamie. “My throat is better and my ear is better and my tempature is almost gone.”

  “Jamie, you’re not completely well,” spoke up Mrs. Newton. “Remember what the doctors told you?”

  “Oh, yeah. To rest and take my medicine. When can I stop resting?”

  “When your temperature has been normal for twenty-four hours — one day.”

  Jamie sighed. “Okay.” But then he grinned.

  So did we. It’s hard to describe the way the six of us felt. Those two days we’d spent on the island had seemed a lot longer, and we were more comfortable together than apart, no matter how much we appreciated being back with our families again.

  * * *

  On Tuesday evening, just after Mom and Richard and I had returned from taking Jeff to the airport, the phone rang.

  Richard answered it. He rolled his eyes, cupped his hand over the phone and whispered to us, “Another reporter.” But then he said (in his regular voice), “Oh, the Stoneybrook News…. The mayor? … WATL?”

  “TV?” I squeaked. “What is it?”

  “A press conference,” Richard whispered.

  Believe it or not, an actual press conference was arranged for the next day. Everyone wanted to interview the survivors of the Connecticut Disaster, and this seemed like a good way to do it. We would talk to all the reporters and newscasters at once. Besides, Claud and I were dying to be on TV, and if we could arrange it, we wanted to get the other members of the BSC on TV and in the papers with us.

  We were sorry that Jeff couldn’t be here for the press conference, but Jamie was well enough to attend, so that was good. The conference was held at — where else? — the community center. Our families came with us, as well as Kristy, Stacey, and Mal. And Claud and I insisted they stand with our families. We figured we had a little pull.

  Boy, was the community center a sight. Just like on Monday, after we were rescued, there were cameras and reporters galore, but since they were crammed into one room, there seemed to be even more of them.

  Nearly everyone was interviewed, but the disaster victims did the most talking. The mayor presented all of us with medals of courage. She had one for Jeff, too, which she was going to send him personally. The local news covered our story that night, but they had warned us that they had time for only a five-minute spot. That was pretty exciting, but what we’d all been waiting for was the giant newspaper article (with lots of pictures) that we’d been promised.

  We saw it, of course, at our Friday club meeting.

  “What does it say? What does it say?” cried Mary Anne. “Do they quote me anywhere? Where’s my picture?”

  “Your picture?” I retorted. “You weren’t even on the island.” Then I caught myself and added, “Sister dear.”

  The article was pretty impressive. It took up most of what was left of the front page below the enormous headline. Then it was continued inside. That was where the photos were — a whole page of them. There was a picture of the disaster victims, a picture of Mary Anne and me hugging, and, lo and behold, a picture of the BSC members.

  “Ooh,” said Stacey. “I know. Let’s each cut out this picture from our own copies of the paper, frame the pictures, and hang them in our bedrooms.”

  “Great idea,” said Kristy. “Hey! This article is good advertising for the club!”

  Well, by this time it was twenty to six. Kristy hadn’t called us to order or anything. We got two job calls, but Mary Anne just hastily lined up sitters. Then we returned to the article.

  “I feel like a hero. I mean, a heroine,” said Claudia.

  “Me, too,” I admitted.

  “Hey!” exclaimed Claud. “I just thought of something.”

  “What?” I asked.

  “We never finished our sailing race. We’re still tied, Schafer. We still need a rematch. How about it?”

  I laughed. I knew Claud was kidding. “No way,” I told her. “No way.”

  Claudia — “I never realized that I was smart until I got stuck on that island. Okay, I’m not book-smart like Janine, but I’d rather be practical, anyway. Too bad you don’t get graded on practicality in school. Hey, Dawn, I still demand a rematch!”

  Kristy — “I k
now I’m no shrinking violet, but I’m glad I stood up for what I believed in last weekend. I’m glad I canceled the Krushers’ practice and the game. Searching was more important. But I did learn that when you stand up for yourself, you have to be mature about it.”

  Stacey — “You guys forced me to see that it is possible to push parents around. Just kidding. The weekend was … I don’t know. I realized how tied I am to Stoneybrook now. I grew up in New York, but Stoneybrook is definitely my home. And you guys are part of my family.”

  Jessi — “If Aunt Cecelia stays a second longer I am going to scream. Why hasn’t she gone home yet? You and Claud must know how much I worried about you. But one thing I learned about this weekend is that adults in my family don’t trust me as much as I thought they did.”

  Me — “I am going to try hard to be the laid-back kind of person everyone thinks I am. But I guess I need to know that there are some situations that I don’t handle as well as others. I have limits like everyone else.”

  Mallory — “I’m glad I was able to help out last weekend. Even though our searching turned up what looked like the worst clue of all, I found that I like to be active. It helps me to feel in control.”

  Mary Anne — “You know I hate tape recorders, Sis. I can’t be myself…. What? … This thing’s already on? … Um, well, here is how I read the situation…. Talk normally? … All right…. All right. This weekend was probably the worst of my life. I know that becoming stepsisters wasn’t easy, but when I thought I’d lost you, I felt like I’d lost me, too. I love you, Sis.”

  About the Author

  ANN MATTHEWS MARTIN was born on August 12, 1955. She grew up in Princeton, New Jersey, with her parents and her younger sister, Jane.

  There are currently over 176 million copies of The Baby-sitters Club in print. (If you stacked all of these books up, the pile would be 21,245 miles high.) In addition to The Baby-sitters Club, Ann is the author of two other series, Main Street and Family Tree. Her novels include Belle Teal, A Corner of the Universe (a Newbery Honor book), Here Today, A Dog’s Life, On Christmas Eve, Everything for a Dog, Ten Rules for Living with My Sister, and Ten Good and Bad Things About My Life (So Far). She is also the coauthor, with Laura Godwin, of the Doll People series.