Claudia and the Perfect Boy Read online

  “No, not at all. I just want to talk to you about something. Okay?”

  “Okay.”

  When I hung up, I had a sense of relief. Meeting Sean would help me decide whether I should offer him Dr. Reese’s number, and then we could discuss whether he still wanted to run the ad.

  Next, I put two letters in front of me. They were both from boys seeking girls. And, if you could believe what they said about themselves, they sounded pretty close to my Mr. Perfect. One said: Eighth-grade boy seeks beautiful, interesting girl. I swim, sketch, and enjoy stand-up comedy. If this sounds good to you, I’d love to get to know you better. Call Good Listener at 555-3829, or write to this address….

  He had a lot of the qualifications I needed. Swimmers have just the right kind of muscles, athletic without being overwhelming. If he sketched, of course he was artistic. The fact that he liked comedy meant he had a good sense of humor. Naturally, I’d have to meet him to see what he looked like, but he sounded good on paper.

  The other letter said: I’m a good-looking guy in the eighth grade. I’m looking for a girl who wants to share laughter, poetry, art, sports. Must be pretty, adventurous, funny, and a good dresser. Call 555-9000 or write Great Guy at my personal PO Box….

  I was very intrigued by this letter, too. I was a little put off when he described himself as good-looking, but then, maybe he was just being honest. I mean, I know I’m pretty even if I don’t go around saying it. Or maybe it simply meant that he was forthright and self-confident. Otherwise, he had almost all the qualities I was looking for. And the things he was looking for in a girl said a lot about him. If he wanted a funny girl he must be humorous then, himself, and if he valued a good dresser, then he obviously cared about fashion. Plus, I wanted to know why he had his own post office box. To me, that sounded very mysterious and sophisticated.

  I’d put these letters aside with the idea that I’d keep them for myself and not print them. After all, I’d started this project so I could find Mr. Perfect. Didn’t I deserve something for my efforts?

  But as I sat on the bed, this very annoying feeling kept coming over me. It was the feeling that keeping these letters for myself wasn’t ethical. Try as I did to push this guilty feeling away, it kept coming back.

  “All right! I’ll print them!” I said out loud to the air. (Or was I talking to the guilty feeling?)

  That didn’t mean I couldn’t get a jump on the competition, though. I reached for the phone to dial Good Listener, but suddenly I felt funny about that, too. He might get a big head knowing I’d grabbed his letter out of all the others. (Since the paper hadn’t even been printed yet, he’d easily figure that one out.) And I suspected that Great Guy might already be a little stuck on himself. This might send him over the edge. Plus, I felt too nervous to talk to a boy I’d never even seen. What if I babbled and sounded like a dweeb?

  No. A letter would be better. It would be one of the first replies to arrive (so the guy wouldn’t already be taken by the time I got there) but it wouldn’t seem wildly over anxious.

  Writing isn’t my strong point, though. And you already know about my spelling. I decided to wait until Monday when I could use the Spellcheck on the Express office computer and ask Stacey to look it over for me.

  Waiting wasn’t easy, though. I almost went crazy that weekend composing the letter in my head. What did you say to someone you didn’t know, yet whom you wanted to impress? “Hi, I think we’re both great, let’s get together and meet?” It wasn’t an easy one to figure out.

  Finally, Monday came. That afternoon I arrived at the Express office before Stacey did. I checked the sheet of directions she’d written out for me and got into the computer files. I was just beginning my reply to Great Listener when I realized someone was standing behind me.

  “Hi, Emily,” I said, suddenly wanting to cover the screen. I felt guilty about using the paper’s computer for my own letters, but she wasn’t looking at what I was writing. I guess she assumed it was my column.

  “Someone is here to see you,” she said, nodding toward the office door. Turning, I saw a slim, short boy with red hair and freckles. From the uncomfortable look on his face I knew he was Sean.

  “Thanks,” I told Emily as I got up and crossed the room to him. “Sean?” I asked when I reached him. He nodded, not meeting my eyes. “I’m Claudia. I’m glad you could come.”

  I led him over to my desk and offered him a chair. “Listen,” I said as gently as I could, “this might be none of my business, but when I read your ad it seemed to me that you might want to talk to someone other than a bunch of kids.”

  “Like who?” he asked, confused.

  I’d gotten Dr. Reese’s phone number from Mary Anne over the weekend. I handed him the paper I’d written it on. “Dr. Reese really helped a friend of mine who was going through a hard time. My friend says she knows about kids and their feelings and everything.”

  “Did your friend’s parents get divorced?” Sean asked, taking the paper.

  “No, but her mother died and now she’s part of a stepfamily,” I told him. “Sean, I know a lot of kids whose parents have gotten divorced and it’s not easy to deal with. There’s nothing wrong with getting help in sorting out your feelings.”

  “That’s why I wanted to form the group,” he said.

  “I can still run your ad if you want to,” I told him. “I just had this number and I thought it might be helpful.”

  He looked down at the number in his hand. “Did my ad make you think I was crazy, like I really needed a shrink?”

  “No,” I said honestly. “But you sound like you’re in a lot of pain.”

  He nodded. Then he stood up slowly. “Okay, thank you,” he said and turned to go.

  “Do you want me to run your ad?” I asked. He just shook his head. “Will you call Dr. Reese?”

  His eyes looked a little red at the edges. He shrugged his shoulders and then left the office. As he headed out the door, Stacey came rushing in. “Was that Sean?” she whispered, sliding into the chair next to me. “How did it go?”

  “I don’t know,” I admitted.

  Stacey patted my shoulder. “You did the right thing,” she assured me.

  “I hope so,” I said.

  She picked up a pile of letters we’d agreed to run. “Come on,” she said. “Let’s type these up and put our very first installment of Claudia’s Personals to bed.”

  With Sean still on my mind, I turned to the letters. “Okay,” I said. “Let’s do it.”

  That Tuesday after school, Shannon arrived at “The House of Doom and Gloom,” otherwise known as the Barrett house. When she rang the doorbell, Buddy pulled it open and scowled at her. “Oh, I guess Mom is going out again,” was his greeting.

  Shannon stepped in and was immediately met with the sound of a vacuum cleaner. Mrs. Barrett was vacuuming the living room rug, intent on giving Marnie a dust-free home so she can get better.

  “MOM!” Buddy screamed at her over the roar of the machine.

  Mrs. Barrett flipped off the cleaner. “Oh, hi, Shannon,” she said. “I didn’t realize it was four o’clock already.”

  “Where are you going today?” Buddy asked.

  A guilty expression swept over Mrs. Barrett’s face. “I’m going to meet another family who answered my ad,” she said. (It seemed everyone was running ads these days.) “I know I’ve been going out a lot, Buddy, but I’ve been seeing a lot of people. So far no one has been right for Pow. We want him to go to the perfect place.”

  The stormy look on Buddy’s face grew stormier and he stomped up the stairs. Mrs. Barrett shook her head as she untied her scarf, letting her hair swing loose. “I put an ad in the paper offering Pow to anyone who could give him a good home,” she explained to Shannon.

  “Does this family you’re going to see sound good?” Shannon asked.

  “I couldn’t tell from one phone call. Franklin offered to take Pow, but we realized that if we ever merged our households, we’d just have t
o go through this all over again.”

  “Too bad,” said Shannon sadly.

  “Yes, it is. But there’s no choice. Marnie can’t go on suffering. At any rate, I’ve written down the number where I’ll be. I don’t think it will take more than a couple of hours at the most.”

  “How’s Marnie?” Shannon asked.

  “Much better since I put Pow in the garage,” Mrs. Barrett replied. “Fortunately she’s too little to realize that Suzi and Buddy aren’t speaking to her. Although sometimes she pouts in a way that makes me think she knows something isn’t right. The important thing is that her allergies have cleared up immeasurably. Once Pow is gone, I’m sure they’ll improve even further.”

  “How is Pow doing?” Shannon asked.

  “He whimpered all last night. He thinks he’s being punished. Everyone will be happier once he’s settled in somewhere else.” Mrs. Barrett started up the stairs. “Come on. I want you to see the girls’ room.”

  Shannon followed Mrs. Barrett upstairs and was astonished at the change in the room. The curtains had been taken down and the carpet rolled up. The big net that used to hang on the wall, crammed full of stuffed animals, had been taken away. The other stuffed toys were gone, as well. In the corner stood a bucket and a mop. The shiny floor looked as if it had been recently mopped. “The doctor said to keep this room as dust-free as possible,” Mrs. Barrett explained.

  “It looks like a prison cell!” complained Suzi who was playing on the floor with her Barbie doll.

  “How would you know what a prison cell looks like?” Mrs. Barrett asked.

  Suzi’s hands went to her hips. “I saw one on Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. Shredder was in one and it looked just like this room.”

  Mrs. Barrett sighed as she lifted Marnie out of the crib. Right away, Shannon could see that she didn’t look nearly as runny and miserable as she’d been when Mary Anne baby-sat.

  “Did you have a nice nap, sweetie?” Mrs. Barrett said to Marnie.

  Marnie smiled at her. “Nab, nab, nab,” she burbled. Then she caught sight of Suzi playing on the floor. “Dotty … dotty …” she called out, stretching toward Suzi.

  “That’s her word for dolly,” Mrs. Barrett explained as she bent to put Marnie on the floor beside Suzi.

  “Get her away from me!” Suzi cried, clutching her doll. “I’m not playing with a dog killer.”

  “Suzi!” Mrs. Barrett scolded, lifting Marnie back up. “We are not killing Pow. And it’s not Marnie’s fault. She can’t help being allergic.”

  “Well, Pow can’t help being a dog,” Suzi snapped.

  Mrs. Barrett shut her eyes, and looked as if she were counting to ten to regain her patience. Then she turned to Shannon. “Come on downstairs. We’ll let Suzi play undisturbed in her prison cell.”

  Downstairs, Mrs. Barrett plunked Marnie in her high chair and took some noodles from the fridge. “Nuke these in the microwave for forty seconds,” she said, and then went on to give Shannon a list of instructions so long that Shannon’s head began to spin. “Don’t let Marnie near Pow. If she gets very congested give her half a teaspoon of Benadryl which is in the medicine chest. If she won’t take it in a spoon, there’s a medicine dropper in the drawer by the sink …” And on and on it went.

  Finally she left. As soon as the front door closed behind her, Shannon heard the sound of Buddy stomping down the stairs. He stopped at the kitchen doorway and scowled at Marnie. “I’m going out to the garage to be with my dog.”

  “All right,” Shannon said kindly. “But don’t go too far from the house.” Shannon felt horrible for Buddy. As he slammed out of the house, she brushed Marnie’s soft hair. This was such a sad mess.

  Shannon was feeding Marnie her noodles and butter when Suzi appeared and plopped down on a kitchen chair. “What if somebody like the Addams Family takes Pow?” she asked seriously.

  Shannon smiled. “The Addams Family is nice, a little strange maybe, but nice.”

  Suzi’s eyes went wide with horror. “No! Uncle Fester might chop off his head just for fun. Or the grandmother might cook him!”

  “Suzi,” said Shannon, “your mother won’t give Pow to the Addams Family.”

  “She won’t care. She just wants to get rid of him.”

  “That’s not fair,” said Shannon, wiping Marnie’s chin with a napkin. “She’s already turned down several families. She’s not settling on just anyone.”

  At that moment, Buddy burst into the house, filled with excitement. Behind him was Nicky Pike. “Guess what?” Buddy shouted. “Nicky wants to take Pow!”

  Shannon frowned. “Take him where?”

  “Take him home, forever. To keep!” Buddy cried. “Isn’t that great?! Then we can see him all the time. It will be like he’s not even gone. Nicky says I could come over and walk him and everything.”

  “And me and Claire could play dress up and zoo with him just like always,” Suzi added, dancing around the kitchen.

  Nicky was grinning from ear to ear. The boys and Suzi were so elated that Shannon could hardly bear to disappoint them. But she figured she’d better point out the reality of the situation. “That’s a great idea,” she said. “But Mal always told me her parents think one hamster is plenty, what with eight kids in the house. I thought you had a strict no more pets rule, Nicky.”

  “Me and my brothers have been really begging for a dog,” Nicky assured her. “Vanessa, Margo, and Claire have been helping, too. I think my parents have changed their minds.”

  “I wouldn’t count on it,” Shannon warned. “Nicky, you better check with your mother right now.” Shannon figured that the sooner they heard the official no from Mrs. Pike, the sooner they’d forget the idea.

  “Can I go with him?” Buddy asked.

  “Okay, but call me when you’ve spoken to Mrs. Pike.”

  “All right,” Buddy agreed, smiling. In a flash, he was out the door.

  Shannon cleaned Marnie’s face and then put on a Curious George video for the girls. She simply couldn’t concentrate on playing with them until Buddy called. She knew he’d be upset when Mrs. Pike said no, and she was trying to think of the best, most consoling, thing to say to him.

  The video was more than twenty minutes over before the phone rang. Shannon jumped up from the floor where she was sitting with Marnie and Suzi. “Hi, Buddy,” she said snapping up the phone. “Listen, don’t feel too bad because —”

  “It’s all set,” he interrupted her happily.

  “What?”

  “Mrs. Pike said they could take Pow!”

  “She did?” Shannon asked in surprise. “Are you sure?”

  “Sure I’m sure.”

  “Can I talk to Mrs. Pike?” Shannon asked, wondering if Mrs. Pike was really even there.

  “Okay,” said Buddy.

  In a minute Mrs. Pike came on the line. “Hi, Shannon. Yes, it’s true. We’ll take Pow as soon as we can get our backyard fenced in, which should be pretty soon.”

  “Great,” Shannon said. “That’s so great!”

  “The other day when Mary Anne brought Pow over I took a break from my work and walked to the window. When I saw how well Pow was playing with the kids, and how happy they were with him, I thought if we could find a dog like Pow maybe I’d rethink my rule. Then when I discovered we could actually have Pow and help the Barretts out, too, well, it seemed too good to be true.”

  “And you won’t have to worry about getting stuck walking him,” Shannon pointed out. “I’m sure Buddy will volunteer any time you need him. Suzi, too.”

  Mrs. Pike laughed. “Having two extra dog-walkers is fine with me. I think this will work out perfectly. Please have Buddy’s mom call me when she gets in, all right?”

  “Of course. She’ll be so happy.” Shannon said good-bye and hung up. “Pow is going to the Pikes’!” she announced to Suzi as she walked into the living room.

  “Hurray!” Suzi cried, turning a backward somersault on the carpet. “Now we can see him all the time.” Sh
e stood up and did a lopsided cartwheel. “I’m so happy,” she said, flopping on the floor.

  While Marnie continued watching Curious George, Suzi and Shannon lay on the floor and played Memory. All the while they talked about how Suzi would be able to visit Pow and bring him treats. “When I’m a little older I can sleep over with Claire and then I can even sleep with Pow all night,” Suzi said.

  An hour later, Mrs. Barrett returned. As she heard the door open, it suddenly occurred to Shannon that maybe Mrs. Barrett had already promised Pow to someone else. She hoped not. And when she saw Mrs. Barrett’s glum face she wasn’t sure what it meant. Was Mrs. Barrett sad because Pow was going, or because he wasn’t going? “What happened?” Shannon asked anxiously.

  “No good,” Mrs. Barrett reported, tossing her purse onto the couch. “The couple already has five dogs which they keep in a pen. Pow just isn’t used to that kind of outdoor life. Plus, I didn’t know how he’d do with those other big dogs.”

  “That’s terrific!” Shannon cried.

  Mrs. Barrett looked at her as if she’d lost her mind. “Excuse me?”

  “Wait until you hear this,” Shannon said. “You tell her, Suzi.”

  “The Pikes are taking Pow!” Suzi shouted, and with that she jumped up and wrapped her arms around her mother.

  Mrs. Barrett’s weary face spread into a radiant smile. “Thank goodness,” she said, smoothing Suzi’s hair. “Thank goodness.”

  Describing yourself is not easy! That’s what I was discovering as I tried to come up with replies to the two personal ads that interested me.

  The night that Claudia’s Personals “went to bed” — I didn’t. I was determined to stay up until I had written a letter which expressed the real me. (I hadn’t been able to get onto the computer again to write my letter. I decided I’d compose it at home and then rewrite it on the computer.)

  By ten o’clock, with my eyes starting to close, this is what I had come up with. Hi. My name is Claudia. You sounded grate in you ad. I dont no if you no who I am from skool, so I gess I shuld describe myself. I have long, black hare and I like fashun. Some peepul say I’m pretty. I love art, mystury books, and junk food. It wuld be grate to meet you.