Mary Anne and the Memory Garden Read online

  “ ‘All the world’s a stage,’ ” Mrs. Simon, my English teacher, announced after the bell had rung. “ ‘And all the men and women merely players.’ Can anyone tell me who wrote that?”

  Several kids raised their hands.

  “Yes, Amelia.” Mrs. Simon nodded to the auburn-haired girl sitting next to me.

  “Shakespeare,” Amelia said in her soft voice. “And I think it’s from the play As You Like It.”

  Mrs. Simon grinned. “Very good, Amelia. Right on both counts.”

  Amelia glanced sideways at me and I gave her my best “Way to go!” smile. She smiled back as her face turned bright red. Besides being one of the nicest girls at SMS, Amelia is also right up there with the smartest. But she isn’t stuck up about it. In fact, she always seems to be a bit surprised when she answers questions correctly (which she does most of the time).

  “William Shakespeare.” Mrs. Simon pointed to a picture of a man with longish hair and a short, pointed beard wearing a white ruffled collar and black doublet. “This man, possibly the greatest writer of all time, was born in 1564 in Stratford-upon-Avon, England. Pencils were being manufactured for the first time. The only Europeans in North America lived in a Spanish settlement in St. Augustine, Florida. Shakespeare wrote thirty-seven plays during his lifetime. No other writer has been quoted more often, or had a greater influence on the cultural history of the western world than the bard of Stratford-upon-Avon.”

  Mrs. Simon’s voice usually takes on a faraway, dreamy quality when she’s talking about poetry or a writer she really loves. But this was the dreamiest, farthest-away sound I’d ever heard.

  “Class, it will be my great pleasure this semester to introduce all of you to Mr. Shakespeare. Besides reading his words, we’re going to find out about the man and the tumultuous times in which he lived.”

  Mrs. Simon gestured to the pictures and prints covering the walls of the classroom. There were bright posters from the Royal Shakespeare Company in England, prints of paintings of men in short pointed beards, funny balloon pants, tights, and big buckled shoes, as well as beautiful color photos of romantic-looking castles.

  Amelia leaned across the aisle and whispered, “Mrs. Simon must have come back to school a whole week early to do all of this decorating.”

  “She probably never left,” I whispered back.

  Picking up a piece of yellow chalk, Mrs. Simon wrote some words on the blackboard in big bold letters. Then she turned and announced, “I’m calling this project Meet Mr. Bill.”

  “Project?” Peter Hayes groaned from the back of the class. “We’re going to have to do a project?”

  Personally, I like projects. They’re more fun than sitting and listening to a lecture. But Peter Hayes is the type who can make a teacher’s (especially a substitute teacher’s) life miserable.

  “Don’t worry, Peter,” Mrs. Simon said patiently, “you won’t be by yourself. I’ve divided the class into groups of four. Each group will be in charge of making a presentation to the class.”

  Mrs. Simon then picked up a basket and walked down the aisle, distributing buttons.

  “Will Power,” Barbara Hirsch said, reading her button out loud.

  Brian Hall’s button had a picture of Shakespeare in a cowboy hat, and the words, “Howdy, Bard!” Everyone laughed at that one.

  Another button showed Shakespeare sporting a baseball cap and holding a bat. It read, “Play Bill!” Most of the guys wanted that button.

  Amelia and I were both happy to receive Will Power buttons. As I pinned mine to my vest, Mrs. Simon announced the groups. I couldn’t believe my luck — Mrs. Simon had put me in the same study group as Amelia, Gordon Brown, and Barbara Hirsch.

  I really like Gordon. He was in my Modern Living class, and he was a good sport about having to pretend-marry Howie Johnson when there weren’t enough girls to go around. And Barbara Hirsch, besides being really nice, has been Amelia’s best friend since second grade. I couldn’t help smiling. We were going to have fun!

  “I’ve made a list of some suggestions for projects,” Mrs. Simon said, handing out sheets of paper. “But you kids are welcome to put your heads together and come up with your own ideas. Just remember, we want to know more about William Shakespeare, the world he lived in, and the people he might have known.”

  Amelia, Gordon, Barbara and I pulled our desks together and started brainstorming.

  The list was actually a lot of questions. As I read each one out loud, the others in my group either winced or smiled. Barbara was probably the most outspoken. She gave a firm thumbs-up or thumbs-down to each question.

  “Who was England’s sovereign, and what influence did he or she have on William Shakespeare’s work?” got a thumbs-down from Barbara. “Who might have been Shakespeare’s friends?” got a thumbs-up.

  “I really like number three,” Gordon said, pointing to the question and reading it out loud. “ ‘What was happening in Shakespeare’s world?’ I have a big timeline chart at home on the wall of my room. We could use it to work on this question.”

  “Great,” Amelia said. “My brother Josh has a book called Timetables of History. I’m sure there’s some good information in there, too.”

  I had already taken a piece of notebook paper out of my notebook and written Meet Mr. Bill at the top. Underneath I’d neatly printed the names of the people in my group. I checked the clock. We had about ten more minutes to plan. We were going to need more time.

  “Why don’t we meet after school tomorrow and talk about this?” I suggested. “We could go to my house.”

  “Okay,” Amelia said. “I’ll bring Josh’s book and Gordon can bring his timeline —”

  “And I’ll bring the snacks,” Barbara chimed in. “We can’t think on an empty stomach.”

  “Just so long as the snacks have chocolate chips in them,” Gordon kidded. “My brain really responds well to chocolate.”

  “I’ll make some lemonade,” I added. “And tea.”

  Amelia cocked her head. “This is starting to sound more like a party than a study session.”

  “It’s a study party,” Barbara said. “Where the best minds will come up with the best ideas.”

  I could feel myself grinning. With a great group like this, how could we lose?

  “This meeting of the Baby-sitters Club is officially called to order,” Kristy Thomas announced in her most presidential way. She tugged on her green visor (which she often wears during meetings) and leaned forward in Claudia’s director’s chair (where she always sits). “My first order of business is to wish everyone a Happy New Year.”

  “Happy New Year!” we shouted back.

  Who are we? Only the most amazing group of baby-sitters ever to assemble in one room. Seriously, we are the BSC.

  The idea for the club was Kristy’s (of course). Kristy has a zillion ideas a day, and most of them are great. This particular idea hit her one afternoon while she was listening to her mom make call after call to find a sitter for her younger brother, David Michael. Wouldn’t it be great, Kristy thought, if Mom could make one phone call and reach several baby-sitters?

  Before you could say the words, “Let’s form a club,” Kristy had done just that.

  In the beginning, there were only four of us — Kristy, me, Claudia Kishi, and Stacey McGill. But we soon had more clients then we knew what to do with, so we opened the club to more members. Now there are seven of us, plus two associate members (who fill in when none of the regular members can take a job).

  We run the BSC like a business because that’s what it is. Three times a week — on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays — we meet from five-thirty to six o’clock. Kristy’s really strict about the time, too. When the numbers on Claudia’s digital clock turn from 5:29 to 5:30, that’s it, the meeting begins. If you’re even one minute late, Kristy is not happy.

  Our meetings are held in Claudia’s room, because she is the only one of us with her own phone line.

  During that half hour,
clients call, I check our schedules, and one of us agrees to take the job.

  Kristy is our president, of course. But not just because she founded the club. Kristy is a real leader. She’s energetic and outspoken. I love her dearly, but I have to say that sometimes she can be bossy. She’s also a super athlete and the coach of Kristy’s Krushers, a softball team for little kids who don’t play in Little League.

  Kristy’s always organizing something, whether it’s a backyard circus with our charges, or some fun activity for her family. And believe me, an activity with her family is a major event.

  Here’s who she lives with: her mom; her stepfather, Watson; her two older brothers, Charlie and Sam; and her younger brother, David Michael. Wait, I’m not finished. There’s also her adopted sister, two-year-old Emily Michelle, and her grandmother, Nannie. Plus every other month, Karen and Andrew, Watson’s kids from his first marriage, live with them, too. Those are just the people (ten all together). Now add the pets: one very grumpy cat named Boo-Boo, a Bernese mountain dog puppy named Shannon, a hermit crab, one rat, and two goldfish. That’s an awful lot of pets and people under one roof!

  Luckily, Kristy lives in a mansion. Why? Because Watson Brewer is a genuine millionaire. (Cool, huh?)

  Even with all of her activities at home and school, Kristy is always thinking of new ways to improve our club. She was the one who dreamed up Kid-Kits.

  What are Kid-Kits? They’re large boxes that we decorated with sequins, glitter glue, Magic Markers, and paints. Each one is filled with coloring books, old toys, stickers, and anything else we think might be fun for our charges to play with. Kids love them. They’re terrific ice-breakers. And on a rainy day I wouldn’t be caught without mine.

  Kristy also started the club notebook, in which each of us writes up every sitting job. Then we read each other’s entries. That way, we stay up to date on what’s happening with our clients.

  While Kristy is our president and idea person, Claudia Kishi is the BSC’s vice-president and resident artist. She tie-dyes shirts, creates papier-mâché animal earrings and pins, and makes cool collages out of things she just picks up on the street.

  Even her outfits are works of art. Today she was wearing a black derby hat with a red-and-white polka dot ribbon, which matched her “ruby slippers” (high-top sneakers with red sequins). Black-and-white striped trousers with red suspenders, and a black long-sleeved T-shirt completed the outfit.

  Claudia is a knock-out. She’s Asian-American, with long silky black hair and a perfect, I mean, perfect (not a zit in sight) complexion. I find this pretty amazing, since Claudia has a real thing for junk food. Cheez doodles, Malomars, candy kisses, pretzels — you name it, Claud probably has it stashed somewhere in her room. (She hides it because she’s not supposed to eat junk food, especially so close to dinner time.) Her favorite not-so-secret hiding place is inside a fake book.

  Claudia is outgoing and fun to be with, but her life isn’t exactly perfect. You see, she’s a very smart person, but a terrible student. School is a major struggle for her. What makes this doubly hard is that she has an older sister who is a real live genius. Janine Kishi is already taking college classes and she’s still in high school. We’re talking major brain.

  Now Stacey McGill, Claudia’s best friend, is the opposite of Claudia when it comes to school. She’s a good student, especially in math, which is why we voted her treasurer of the club. Of all of us, Stacey is probably the most sophisticated and stylish. I think this is because she grew up in New York City. That may sound glamorous, but Stacey’s life has definitely not been.

  You see, Stacey has diabetes, a disease that interferes with the way her body processes sugar. That means she has to watch what she eats. Always. Not only that, she has to give herself insulin injections every single day (ew!). And if dealing with a lifelong illness wasn’t hard enough, Stacey also had to go through her parents’ divorce. That was a rough time, but with a little help from all of us Stacey was able to handle it.

  Then, not long ago, Stacey felt she’d outgrown her friends in the BSC. When she started dating Robert Brewster, Stacey thought that his friends were more sophisticated then hers. She made a choice to hang out with Robert’s friends. We (the club members) had a major falling out with Stacey, and she left the BSC. Then she realized that, although the other crowd may have been ultra-cool and trendy, when the chips were down and she really needed a friend, they weren’t there for her.

  Stacey asked to return to the club and was accepted. I’m so glad. I really missed her.

  As treasurer, Stacey collects our dues, which we use to pay Claudia’s phone bill, and Kristy’s brother Charlie to chauffeur her and our newest member, Abby Stevenson, to and from meetings. (No, he doesn’t drive a limousine. Charlie’s car is an old beat-up green thing appropriately named the Junk Bucket.)

  Now on to the club secretary. Did you guess it was me? I was chosen because I have the neatest handwriting, and because I’m organized (like Dad). It’s my job to keep the club record book. Not only do I make sure all of our clients’ addresses and phone numbers are up to date, but I keep track of their children’s allergies, birthdays, favorite foods, toys, etc.

  I also write down every member’s personal schedule, which can be pretty complicated, since I have to think about Kristy’s Krushers practices, Claudia’s art classes, Stacey’s doctor appointments, and so on. When a client calls, I can tell at a glance which one of us is free to take the job. I’m proud to say that I have never, ever made a mistake. (Knock on wood!)

  That brings me to our alternate officer and newest member, Abigail Stevenson. Abby recently moved to Stoneybrook, from Long Island. You’d think, as a new kid, she might have been a little nervous about starting at SMS. Not Abby. She just jumped right in. She says whatever comes into her head. (Usually it’s something funny.) Abby has long dark curly hair, wears glasses or contacts (depending on her mood), has asthma, and is allergic to practically everything. But Abby’s far from sickly. In fact she’s a terrific athlete (she swears she was born in soccer shorts). I would say that Abby was truly one of a kind, except for one thing — she’s an identical twin!

  You know how some twins walk, talk, and dress exactly alike? Well, not the Stevensons. Abby’s sister, Anna, looks exactly like her, but that’s where the similarity ends. Anna wears her hair short, she has no allergies or asthma, and couldn’t care less about sports. Music is her first love. Anna is an excellent violinist. She’s already landed a spot in the SMS orchestra. She’s friendly and confident, but not outspoken like Abby. It’s funny that two people who look so much alike could be so different.

  Abby’s mom is what Abby calls a workaholic. Ever since the death of Abby’s father, Mrs. Stevenson has thrown herself into her job. She commutes into New York City and works long hours, which means Abby and Anna spend a lot of time on their own. It’s a good thing they have each other, or they could get pretty lonely. I know I would.

  Fortunately, they also live only two doors down from Kristy’s huge family, and right across the street from Shannon Kilbourne, another BSC member.

  Shannon, who has thick, curly blonde hair and high cheekbones, goes to a private school called Stoneybrook Day. She’s always busy with extracurricular activities there, but somehow she manages to find time for the BSC.

  In the past, Shannon has filled in as a full-time member, when Dawn went on an extended visit to California, and while Stacey was gone. Now Shannon is an associate member again. Logan, my boyfriend, is our other associate. As I mentioned before, we call on them when we are swamped and need an extra sitter, but they don’t have to attend the regular meetings.

  Everyone in the club is thirteen and in the eighth grade, except for our junior officers, Mallory Pike and Jessica Ramsey. Mal and Jessi are best friends. They are eleven years old and in the sixth grade. Both have pierced ears, and both adore horses — and any movie, book, or video game that has a horse in it. I don’t know how many times they’ve read Marguerite Henry’
s Misty of Chincoteague, but I do know they’ve seen The Black Stallion at least twenty times. They recite the lines along with the actors. (I don’t recommend watching it with them.)

  I’ve told you how they’re alike. Here’s how they’re different: First, in terms of appearance. Jessi is black and Mallory is white. Jessi is tall and thin, with beautiful brown eyes and long legs. Mallory has auburn hair, wears glasses and braces (which she hates), and is medium height. Second, in terms of interests. Jessi plans to go to New York and be a famous ballerina one day. (I know she will — Jessi’s very talented.) Mallory plans to be a children’s book author and illustrator. Last, in terms of family. Jessi has one sister, Becca, who’s eight, and a two-year-old brother, John Philip, Junior (alias Squirt). Mallory has seven — count them, seven — brothers and sisters, all under the age of eleven. First come the triplets: Adam, Jordan, and Byron (ten years old), then Vanessa (nine), Nicky (eight), Margo (seven), and finally Claire (five).

  Mal and Jessi do a lot of afternoon baby-sitting and can only baby-sit at night for their own siblings.

  I think that covers everyone. Now back to our New Year’s celebration.

  “This calls for a snack.” Claudia held up a bag of pretzels (for Stacey) and a plate piled high with cookies that she had made herself. They were shaped like top hats, with the words Happy New Yeer! written on them. (Spelling isn’t one of Claud’s strong points.)

  Abby snatched one of the cookies and said, “If this isn’t going to be the best new year ever, I’ll eat my hat.” Then she bit into her cookie and burst out laughing, which made her spew crumbs all over Mal and Jessi.

  “Ew!” Mallory and Jessi hopped up, swiping at their hair and shoulders. Now the crumbs were all over the rug. Claud pointed to the floor and said, “Pick that up, or I’ll make you eat my hat!” At which point we all burst into giggles.

  Usually Kristy frowns on too much silliness during our meetings, but she just grinned at me and held out her hand. “Pass the hat, will you?”