Poor Mallory! Read online

  “Maybe,” I answered. It was a good theory, but I didn’t feel any better.

  “Well,” said Stacey, “don’t worry, Mal. We’ll stick by you.”

  “Definitely,” agreed Claud.

  “Right,” added Jessi. “You all stuck by me when I first moved here and people snubbed me. Now we’ll stick by you.”

  “The members of the BSC always stick together,” said Kristy from the director’s chair.

  “I wish Jessi and I were in your grade,” I told her. “Then we could really stick together.”

  “Boy, I’d like to teach Nan White something,” said Kristy. “And Janet and Valerie and Rachel, too.”

  “Don’t get carried away,” Mary Anne warned her.

  “I won’t,” Kristy promised.

  “You guys are great,” I said huskily.

  “Oh, please. Don’t start crying!” exclaimed Mary Anne.

  And then we laughed again. We sounded like a rerun of the beginning of the meeting. But I couldn’t help adding, just as Claud’s clock turned to 6:00, “You’re the best friends ever.”

  And Dawn said, “You’ll get through this, Mal. I know you will.”

  I rode home that evening thinking that she was right, but not knowing just how I would get through it.

  “Smell this.”

  “Do I have to?”

  “Yes. Just smell it.”

  “Ew. That is so gross. What is it?”

  “My gym socks. Can’t you tell?”

  “No. They look like —”

  “Don’t listen to them, Mal!” Kristy hissed in my ear.

  It was Monday, the afternoon of my first sitting job at the Delaneys’. Kristy and I were riding her bus home, and behind us, two kids were having a dibbly disgusting conversation, which was hard not to overhear.

  “Concentrate on Amanda and Max,” said Kristy. “I’ve got to give you some sitting tips on them, anyway, since this will be your first job with them.”

  “Okay,” I replied.

  “Now,” began Kristy, “this is very important. Don’t let them get away with anything.”

  “Like what?” I asked.

  “Anything they shouldn’t be doing, or anything they should be doing for themselves. They love to test new sitters. Don’t let them order you around.”

  “Kristy —” I interrupted.

  “No, I’m serious. I know you’re a good sitter, and I know you know how to control children, but Amanda and Max are a little bit different.”

  “Okay,” I said uncertainly. I’d never met a kid I couldn’t handle. However, I’d also never been given such a warning about sitting charges.

  “Call me if you have any trouble,” was the last thing Kristy said to me as we got off the bus. (The two kids who’d been sitting behind us were still talking about the smell of the decaying gym socks, trying to come up with an exact description of their odor. I was glad to leave them behind.)

  “I will,” I called to Kristy, even though I wouldn’t. “Thanks for letting me ride with you!”

  “You’re welcome…. Good luck with Amanda and Max!”

  Kristy crossed the street to her house and I walked slowly up the Delaneys’ driveway. Good luck? Would I really need luck that afternoon?

  I hesitated on the Delaneys’ front porch, then rang the bell. In a few moments, the door was opened by a tall woman who gave me a smile.

  “Mallory?” she said.

  “Yes. Mrs. Delaney?”

  “Yup. Come on inside.”

  Now, I should stop here and tell you that from the outside, the Delaneys’ house looked like any other mansion in the neighborhood. But inside! The inside of Kristy’s house is like the inside of any house, only bigger. There are a lot of regular-looking rooms with toys and homework papers and jackets and sneakers scattered around. Inside the Delaneys’ house was another story.

  The first thing I saw, right in the front hall, was a fountain. Honest. A fountain that was indoors. It was golden, and in the shape of a fish standing on its tail. The water splashed out of its mouth and down into this pool that surrounded it.

  Whoa.

  I looked from left to right as Mrs. Delaney led me down a short hallway to the kitchen. We passed a library and a den and the living room. Oriental carpets and gilt-framed pictures were everywhere. And I didn’t see a single speck of dust or anything on the floor that didn’t belong there. Amanda and Max probably weren’t allowed in those rooms. If they were, they must be pathologically neat, I thought. At the end of the hallway was the kitchen, which Kristy had told me looked like a space control center. She was right. It was full of gadgets and appliances, all gleaming white, that were operated mostly by button panels that looked as if they would light up when you touched them. I hoped I wouldn’t have to use any of the gadgets to fix the kids an after-school snack. I’d be lucky to find the refrigerator.

  “Okay,” began Mrs. Delaney. “Amanda and Max should be home from school any minute now. Their bus gets here a little later than yours does. The emergency numbers are by the telephone. Our pediatrician is Doctor Evans. And our next-door neighbors are the Kilbournes — I think you know Shannon?” (I nodded.) “And the Winslows…. Let’s see. Did Kristy tell you about our swimming pool?”

  “No,” I replied. How could Kristy have forgotten to mention that? I knew the Delaneys had two tennis courts, but I didn’t know they had a pool.

  “Okay,” said Mrs. Delaney. “The pool was just installed. It’s built in, of course.” (Of course, I thought.) “Amanda and Max are both good swimmers. They can use the pool any time they want, as long as an adult is supervising them. When a sitter is in charge, then one of the next-door neighbors must be at home — just in case of an emergency. Both Mr. and Mrs. Kilbourne work, as you probably know, but Mrs. Winslow said she’d be home all afternoon, so swimming is okay today. Now, a lot of Amanda’s and Max’s friends want to go swimming as well. The rule for them is that when a sitter is in charge, they can only use the pool if they are good swimmers — if they can swim the width of the pool without stopping to rest. Amanda knows who those children are, and that the others may not go in the water.”

  “Okay,” I said. “And I’m a good swimmer myself, so you don’t need to worry.”

  Mrs. Delaney smiled, checked her watch, and announced, “Well, I’m off. I’ll be back by five. Call Mrs. Winslow if you need her.”

  I breathed a sigh of relief as Mrs. Delaney pulled out of the driveway. Then I rummaged around the kitchen, found some fruit and graham crackers and set them on the table for Amanda and Max. A few moments later, I heard the front door open.

  “Hello!” I called, running into the hallway.

  There were Amanda and Max, storybook children in tidy school uniforms.

  “Are you Mallory?” asked Amanda.

  “Yup,” I replied. “Hi, you guys. Your mom just left. She’ll be back at five. I’ve got a snack ready for you in the kitchen.”

  “In the kitchen?!” exclaimed Amanda. “We never eat in there.”

  “Well, you’re eating there today,” I replied.

  Amanda and Max didn’t answer. They just set their school bags in the closet and followed me to the kitchen.

  “Is that our snack?” asked Max, looking at the fruit and graham crackers in dismay. He eyed his sister.

  “We always have Coke and Oreos — or whatever we want — for a snack,” Amanda informed me, busily putting away the things I had set out.

  I let the kids get away with this, since they had agreed to eat in the kitchen. Besides, I hadn’t seen an Oreo or a bottle of Coke in several days.

  The three of us sat down at the table, Max and Amanda looking at me curiously.

  “Are you a friend of Kristy’s?” asked Max.

  “Yup,” I replied. “I know her whole family. I know Shannon Kilbourne, too.” (Shannon often baby-sits for the Delaneys.)

  “Where do you live?” asked Amanda.

  “On Slate Street.”

  Amanda frowned
. “I don’t know where that is. Which school do you go to — Stoneybrook Academy or Stoneybrook Day School?”

  “Silly,” said Max. “She must go to Stoneybrook Academy. We go to the day school, and we’d know if Mallory went there, too.”

  I smiled. “Actually, I go to Stoneybrook Middle School.”

  “Do you have any pets?” asked Max.

  “Just a hamster. We used to have a cat, though.”

  “We have a cat,” said Amanda. “Her name is Priscilla. She’s a snow-white Persian and she cost four hundred dollars.”

  Four hundred dollars for a cat? I thought. Boy, you could get one free at a shelter. And you could certainly spend four hundred dollars on better things, like groceries.

  “How about brothers and sisters?” asked Amanda.

  “I’ve got seven,” I said.

  “Seven!” squealed Amanda. “Gosh, your father must be rich. What does he do? I bet it’s something really important.”

  I believe it is always best to be honest with children, so I said, “Actually, my dad isn’t working right now. He just lost his job.”

  “He did?” exclaimed Max.

  “Well, our father,” said Amanda, “is a partner in a law firm. He makes a lot of money. He gets Max and me whatever we want.”

  “Yeah,” said Max. “We have tennis courts and a pool.”

  And a four-hundred-dollar cat, I thought. But all I said was, “I know.”

  “Our swimming pool is huge,” said Amanda. “It has very beautiful steps in two corners and it’s painted aquamarine blue and it has a slide and a diving board. Max and I go swimming all the time. Our friends come over to swim, too. We have lots of friends. Is Mrs. Winslow home, Mallory?”

  “Yes,” I answered.

  “Goody.”

  The next thing I knew, Amanda was on the phone, inviting her friends to come to her house for a swim. Then she and Max changed into their bathing suits and ran outside. They jumped into the pool.

  Of course, I didn’t have my suit with me. So I sat in a lawn chair by the side of the pool and felt like a real dork.

  Soon kids began to appear at the gate in the fence that surrounded the pool. The first three must have been the kids Amanda had phoned. She ran to the gate and let each of them in gleefully. I tried to watch five bouncy children and it wasn’t easy, so I was alarmed when yet another kid, a girl about Max’s age, came to the gate. But I felt relieved when Amanda stalked over to the girl and bossily said, “You can’t come in. You can’t swim yet.”

  My relief faded quickly when I saw the look on the girl’s face, though. Chastised, she turned and walked slowly toward the driveway. Amanda watched her, looking smug.

  Ten minutes later, the same thing happened with a little boy.

  “Amanda!” I called.

  Amanda trotted over to me. “Yeah?”

  “Can’t you tell them nicely that they can’t swim today? I think you hurt that boy’s feelings.”

  “Well, he deserved it. He hurt mine once. Besides, he can’t swim.”

  “Amanda, don’t use the pool as a way to get back at people. Or to make friends. I think you’ll be sorry.”

  “Huh?” replied Amanda. She wasn’t even listening. She was watching Max swoop down the slide and into the water with a splash.

  “Never mind,” I said, and Amanda ran off.

  For the next hour I sat in the hot sun in my school clothes while the Delaneys and their friends played with their new toy. I thought of Claire at home who wanted a new toy, too — a Skipper doll she had seen advertised on TV. She knew she couldn’t have it. Not now.

  How unfair, I thought, as I looked around at the pool and the tennis courts and the big house with its fish fountain.

  I felt like I was a nothing.

  Stacey had gone on an unexpected Saturday job at the Delaneys’. Of course, the members of the BSC had offered it to me first, but I couldn’t take it. I was just too busy. I was baby-sitting more than ever, and I felt pressured to do better than usual in school. I was going to need good grades to get a scholarship to college if Dad didn’t find another job. Oh, sure, college was seven years away, but you just never know. It’s always best to be prepared. Thrifty, too. I had learned a lot over the last week or so.

  Anyway, that Saturday I was sitting for the Barretts for a couple of hours, and then I needed time to work on a social studies project. So Stacey went to the Delaneys’. She brought her bathing suit along, having learned from my first experience there. She didn’t want to be unprepared.

  Stacey has baby-sat for Amanda and Max before. They think she’s weird. That’s because when the BSC first began sitting for the Delaneys, and the kids were so awful, Stacey decided to use backwards psychology (or something like that) on Amanda and Max. When they became too demanding, she would encourage them to be more demanding (which caused them to behave). When they didn’t want to clean up their playroom, Stacey made it into a huge mess — which the kids quickly cleaned up before their mother got home.

  So Stacey could handle the Delaneys, but the kids thought she was a nut case.

  * * *

  As Stacey had written in the notebook, she arrived at Amanda and Max’s to find them in the pool with four friends, one of whom (Karen Brewer) is Kristy’s little stepsister. Mrs. Delaney had led Stacey out to the pool area (after Stace had changed into her bikini) and announced, “Kids, Stacey’s here! She’s in charge until your father and I get back. Remember the pool rules!”

  “Okay, we will. ‘Bye, Mommy!” Amanda called. (Max was underwater.)

  Stacey seated herself at the edge of the shallow end of the pool, where most of the kids were playing. She let her legs dangle in the water.

  “Hi, Stacey!” called Karen, who knows Stacey well. “Watch this!”

  Karen scrambled out of the pool, backed up several paces, held her arms up in front of her, and said, “Okay, here I am, walking along, reading my newspaper. I’m just walking along —” SPLASH! Karen pretended to fall into the pool accidentally. The other kids laughed.

  Amanda eyed Stacey. “Can I have a snack?” she asked.

  Stacey sensed a test. She checked her watch. “It’s two o’clock,” she said. “Didn’t you just have lunch?”

  “Yes,” admitted Amanda, “but I’m hungry again. I want —”

  “Gosh, if you’re hungry,” said Stacey, “I better fix you a nice, healthy meal. That’s the best way to make hunger go away. I’ll get you some yogurt, some fruit, and maybe a small green salad.”

  “Oh, never mind,” said Amanda. She pushed herself away from the edge of the pool, glided over to Max, and said to him (not very softly), “She’s crazy. She is so weird.”

  “I know,” replied Max, but he seemed unfazed. He was diving for a penny that he’d dropped on the floor of the pool.

  Amanda and Karen played together for awhile. Angie practiced diving off the board into the deep end. And Timmy and Huck took one joyous ride after another down the slide and into the water. Presently, Amanda swam over to Stacey again, climbed out of the pool, and sat down next to her. Stacey placed a towel around her shoulders and patted her back.

  “Thanks,” said Amanda. She looked thoughtful. Finally she said, “Do you know Mallory Pike? Our new baby-sitter?”

  “Sure,” replied Stacey.

  “Her father … got fired.”

  “I know.” Stacey wondered where this conversation was going and decided to let Amanda make the next move.

  “What does your father do?” asked Amanda.

  “He works for a company … in New York.”

  “In New York? Does he live there?”

  “Yes,” replied Stacey. “My parents are divorced.”

  Amanda frowned.

  “But I get to visit my dad in the city whenever I want to.”

  “Really?” Amanda was impressed. “Does your father make a lot of money?”

  Stacey was insulted. But she tried not to show it, even though she wanted desperately to say, �
�He makes enough to buy a four-hundred-dollar cat.” Before she could come up with a polite answer, however, she was interrupted by Max.

  He was climbing out of the pool, penny in hand.

  “Stacey?” he said. “I’m tired of swimming.”

  “Me, too,” said Amanda, who did not seem inclined to return to the water. “Max and I have been swimming all morning.”

  “Okay,” Stacey answered. “Call your friends out of the pool and we’ll find something else to do. Maybe we can play a game.”

  “Hey, you guys!” called Amanda, standing up. “It’s time to get out of the pool. We’re going to play a game.”

  “I don’t want to get out,” replied Huck immediately.

  “Me, neither,” said Angie. “I’ve got to practice my diving.”

  “Come on, Timmy!” called Max.

  “No. I just got here.”

  “Angie!” Amanda whined.

  “I’m diving,” was the reply.

  “I’ll play with you, Amanda,” said Karen, hoisting herself onto the side of the pool.

  “Thanks,” Amanda answered. Then she looked from the kids in the pool to Stacey. What was Stacey going to do about the situation? she seemed to be asking.

  Clearly, Stacey had to do something. There was only one Stacey. She couldn’t watch Timmy, Angie, and Huck in the pool, and Amanda, Karen, and Max somewhere else.

  So Stacey stood up, too. “Okay, everybody out of the water!” she announced.

  “I don’t want to get out!” said Huck vehemently.

  “And I have to practice,” added Angie.

  “I thought you guys came over to play with Max and me,” said Amanda, looking wounded. Her lower lip trembled ever so slightly.

  “Well … well …” began Angie.

  And Timmy said, “It’s so hot today.”

  Max had said little until this point. Now he said, sounding almost afraid, “Huck? Didn’t you come over to play with me?”

  “I —” began Huck. He paused. Then he said, “Yeah. You and your pool.”