Baby-Sitters Club 031 Read online

  Charlie started the car, and at the last minute, Kristy realized that they might as well pick up Mary Anne for her overnight at the Brewer/ Thomas mansion, since they were in our neighborhood.

  That was fine with me. Mary Anne, my wicked stepsister, had been sleeping in the guest bedroom ever since Monday night, when we'd had our fight. She hadn't spoken to me, either, until that morning when she'd said she would be moving back in with me on Sunday when she returned from Kristy's.

  Sleeping in one room and keeping her stuff in another room was too inconvenient, she'd said.

  Well, tough. I'd decided I didn't want her sharing my room anymore.

  Chapter 13.

  After Mary Anne went to Kristy's house that night, I had plenty of time to think about what happened after our fight on Monday. It had taken a long time for me to realize that Mary Anne and I were not meant to share a room. I'd wanted a sister so badly. Sisters, I'd thought, should share everything - a room, their clothes, their secrets, even their germs. Just like Claire and Margo, or Mallory and Vanessa.

  I think Mary Anne had felt the same way. Or she'd tried to.

  But something was very wrong. I didn't want to admit it, but it was true. That was the first thing I'd thought when I'd awakened alone in my room on Tuesday morning. Something is very wrong.

  In school that day, Mary Anne wouldn't speak to me: She doesn't get angry very often, but when she does, she's an expert with the silent treatment.

  I wasn't surprised. I hadn't expected her to speak to me. Anyway, as long as she wasn't speaking to me, it was a good excuse for me not to speak to her. I did, however, decide to do something bold. I decided to talk to Kristy about my problem. But I also knew that Kristy was much better friends with Mary Anne than with me. I also knew that Kristy had been through a remarriage, a move into her stepfather's house, and the experience of gaining a stepbrother, a stepsister, and even an adopted sister. I figured she might be sympathetic. And I was right.

  I caught up with Kristy at her locker before study hall. That was a good time to talk because it wouldn't matter much if we were late for study hall.

  "Kristy?" I said.

  Kristy was busy jamming stuff into her locker.

  "Yeah? Oh, hi, Dawn." "Hi. ... I need to talk to you." "I thought you might." "You did?" "Yup. I know what happened between you and Mary Anne last night." "Oh." "Listen, it's okay. I've been through just what you're going through, except that I never had to share a room with anyone." Kristy and I talked all the way to study hall, and right through it until the end of the period. No one noticed or cared. Anyway, Kristy told me a lot of things that made sense. She said that it's hard for new families to fit together. Everyone tiptoes around, trying to figure everyone else out. People get mad. People feel threatened. They need their space. That's why her mother and Watson had been glad that all the kids could have their own rooms at Watson's big house.

  Kristy also said that it wasn't unusual for parents to side with their stepchildren during arguments. "They just want their stepkids to like them. They're trying to make things work." And then Kristy reminded me of the Arnold twins. "The girls needed separate rooms because they needed personal space." Or emotional space, I thought, remembering my conversation with Jeff.

  "Thanks, Kristy," I said, just before the bell rang. "I really appreciate this." "No problem." "I hope this doesn't insult you, but I thought you might not want to talk to me about this. I mean, because you're really, um, a little closer to Mary Anne than to me." "Maybe," said Kristy, "but you guys are best friends, too. Or at least you were, and I'm sure you will be again someday. Anyway, I wouldn't want to see a great friendship dissolve, especially when my two good friends are part of it." Well, no matter what else you say about Kristy, you have to admit that when the chips are down, she comes through. I'm not sure I would have been as nice to Kristy if she were having a fight with Mary Anne as she'd been to me that day.

  When study hall was over, Kristy and I hugged each other.

  I did some heavy thinking after school on Tuesday. It was a good time for it, since Mom and Richard were at work and Mary Anne was baby-sitting. I lay down on the bed in my room and looked around.

  The room was so crowded you could barely walk through it. You had to edge around the beds and squeeze past the desks. The closet door only opened halfway because it was blocked by my armchair. There just wasn't any other spot for that chair.

  I closed my eyes. I pictured the room the way it used to be, nice and light and airy and open. Now it was not only crowded, but messy. (Or as messy as Richard would let it get.) Since both Mary Anne and I are neat people, this wasn't really our fault. It was just that there was nowhere to put all of Mary Anne's stuff. The closet was overflowing, and things that we'd stashed under the beds sort of kept leaking out.

  It occurred to me that living under those conditions would drive anyone crazy, but Mary Anne and I had other problems, too. The two of us and Mom and Richard really were struggling to fit together as a family. I pictured Richard making Mom breakfast every weekend, and Mom never eating half of it. I pictured Mom trying to cook dinner and clean for Richard, and never pleasing him. I pictured Mary Anne rushing Tigger into the kitchen and thinking she had to protect him from Mom after he'd gotten sick. And I pictured the fight Monday night - Richard and me facing off against Mom and Mary Anne. Each parent was siding with his or her stepkid. As Kristy had said, Richard just wanted me to like him, and Mom just wanted Mary Anne to like her. What we really needed was for Mary Anne and me to like each other and to like living together.

  That was hard, considering how differently Mary Anne and I had been raised. When we had just been friends our differences hadn't mattered so much, but now that we were trying to become a family, they mattered a lot.

  I sighed. I knew that Mary Anne and I shouldn't be sharing a room. We needed our space, and anyway, sharing wasn't practical. But I had insisted that we share my room. Mary Anne had said so during our fight and she was right. I'd put pressure on her to share, even though she didn't really want to. So how could I admit that I'd been wrong? Or did I even have to?

  If I could help it, I didn't want to admit to that. I wanted Mary Anne to move out, but I didn't want her to think it had anything to do with her or me or our ability to share a room. I wanted her to move out for some other reason.

  Hmm. Now what other reason could there be? Mary Anne could move out because . . . because . . . Not because the room was too messy. I'd said we could fit everything in just fine. Not because she didn't like my room, because I knew she did, or used to. Well, except for the secret passage, which she was afraid of.

  Wait a second! The secret passage! Maybe I could use the passage to scare Mary Anne out of our room. That would solve everything. It would be understandable, and neither of us would have to admit that Mary Anne had left because we couldn't get along. Furthermore, I could take revenge on my stepsister without her knowing it. I could get back at her for all the stinky things she'd done - getting me in trouble with Mom, complaining about Mom's food, following Mom around with the Dust-buster, getting chummy with Kristy and leaving me out of things, catching Mom's bouquet, taking the job at the Perkinses', and pitying me for not having a boyfriend. I could watch Mary Anne panic, but no one would know I was the cause of the trouble. Not if I put on the horror show when Mom and Richard weren't around. They'd just think Mary Anne's imagination had run away with her. And they'd be delighted to see her move into the guest room.

  Those were my thoughts on Tuesday, after I spoke to Kristy. For the rest of the week I planned my revenge. On Wednesday afternoon I sneaked into the secret passage. I had to be very quiet, since Mary Anne was at home. I checked the passage to make sure it was in the same shape as the last time I'd been in it, which was quite awhile ago. I also tried the secret door to my room. Everything seemed to be in order.

  On Thursday I called Jeff. I needed his help.

  "Hi," I said when he picked up the phone. "It's me." "Hi, you. How are
you doing?" "Fine. How are you and Dad?" "We're fine," replied Jeff. "What's up?" "I need to scare Mary Anne." "You need to what?" "Scare Mary Anne," I repeated. I told Jeff about the plan I was forming.

  "Oh," said Jeff knowingly. "Well, you could ..." And Jeff rattled off a list of things I could do that were sure to make Mary Anne's hair stand on end.

  By tonight - when it was time for Mary Anne's overnight with Kristy - I couldn't wait for her to leave. I needed the house to myself that night, and I would have it soon. I would be the only one home that evening, since Mom and Richard were going to a dinner party. I had some things to set up, and I needed everyone out of the house so 1 could enter and leave the secret passage without being seen, and so that I could test a few things.

  I scheduled Operation: Scare Mary Anne for Monday night. On Monday night Mom and Richard would be at a PTO meeting at school. It was supposed to last from eight until nine-thirty, which meant that Mary Anne and I would be alone from about seven-thirty until ten. However, as far as Mary Anne knew, I would not be at home. I would be at the Pikes', where I'd suddenly been called to help Mallory with her sick and injured family. I just hoped Mary Anne wouldn't try to call me there, because of course, I wouldn't be there. I would be in the secret passage, if all went as planned.

  Anyway, I was pretty glad when Charlie Thomas pulled up to our house in that broken-down car of his. I ran outside even before Mary Anne did.

  "Hi, Kristy! Hi, Jessi!" I said. "Hi, Sam." "Hi, Dawn," they replied, and Kristy added, "Is Mary Anne ready?" "Almost. She'll be here in just a sec." A few moments later, Mary Anne dashed outside.

  She climbed into the car.

  She didn't say a word to me.

  So when everyone else called out, " 'Bye, Dawn!" I pointedly replied, " 'Bye, Mary Anne," and secretly thought, "You wicked stepsister, you." Chapter 14.

  These were Jeff's ideas for Operation: Scare Mary Anne - 1. Pretend to be a ghost in the passage. (That was easy, since I'd done it before. I'd pretend to be the ghost of Jared Mullray.) 2. After you've pretended to be a ghost and made a lot of noise, ring the doorbell and run away.

  3. While Mary Anne is checking the door (and getting scared), run through the passage to your room and leave something weird on her desk.

  4. Repeat steps 2 and 3.

  5. Finish by slowly opening the door to the passage in your bedroom. Mary Anne will probably be scared away from your room forever.

  It was a good plan. I have to give Jeff credit for that. From three thousand miles away, he had come up with a surefire scare tactic.

  As soon as I had the house to myself on Saturday, I began collecting things to hide in the secret passage. I wanted to sound like a really good ghost. I didn't specifically have to sound like Jared Mullray, though. Mary Anne would jump to that conclusion all by herself.

  Who's Jared Mullray? I guess I should tell you that if our passage really is haunted, it's haunted by the ghost of a man who is said to have disappeared in it ages ago. That man was Jared Mullray, and the townspeople thought he was crazy. I'll agree that some odd things have happened in our passage. I'll even agree that there might be a ghost. But if there is, I don't think he's mean and I'm not afraid of him. Otherwise I wouldn't go in the passage alone at night - or at any time.

  On Saturday evening I collected a saw, a handful of acorns, a tape recorder, my haunted house sound-effects tape, and two other things. I made sure there were batteries in the recorder and that it worked properly. Then, carrying our big flashlight, I brought the things into the passage and left them there. Since no one else was at home, I could enter the passage through my bedroom, instead of going all the way out to the barn and in the other entrance.

  I tested the rest of my equipment. It sounded good.

  Okay, Monday night. Hurry up and come.

  Sunday was one of the longest days I've ever lived through. It was endless. Monday was only a little better because of school and our BSC meeting. It wasn't until dinnertime that I got to put the first part of my plan into action.

  We were eating in the den in front of the TV.

  "Excuse me," I said, getting up with my empty plate as if I were going to have a second helping. (I had wolfed my dinner down.) In the kitchen, I quickly put some more food on my plate.

  Then I picked up our phone and dialed the operator.

  "Hi," I said quietly. "Maybe you can help me. I think something's wrong with our phone. Can you call me back?" I gave the operator our number.

  When the phone rang, I snatched it up. "Thanks," I told the operator. "I guess it's working okay after all." I waited a few more moments before hanging up and returning to the den.

  "Who was on the phone?" Richard asked immediately.

  "That was Mallory," I said. "Her parents are kind of worn out this evening so I told her I'd come over. She doesn't need a sitter, she just needs help. My homework is almost done." Nobody questioned this.

  So I left my house at the same time Mom and Richard left for the meeting at school. I headed for the Pikes', then doubled back. I stood in the dark yard outside my bedroom window until I saw the light in my room go on. I waited five more minutes until I was pretty sure Mary Anne was at her desk and working.

  Then I crept into our barn.

  I found the flashlight that I had hidden under some hay. I turned it on, opened a trapdoor in the floor of the barn, and climbed down a ladder to the end of the tunnel. The tunnel travels underground to our house, then up a flight of stairs and through another sort of tunnel that runs between walls in our house and winds up, of course, at the hidden door to my room.

  I crept along silently until I had climbed the stairs. There at the head of the stairs were the things 1 had collected on Saturday night. I decided to start off simply, with the acorns.

  I threw one down the passage. It rattled along and stopped near the doorway.

  I threw another one.

  Rattle, rattle, rattle.

  I put my ear to the wall and listened for Mary Anne, but I couldn't hear a thing. I wished desperately for a peephole so I could spy on her. For all I knew, she wasn't even in the room. Maybe the phone had rung or something.

  I decided to take a chance.

  I tiptoed all the way to the doorway and threw the rest of the acorns at the wall of the passage.

  I heard Mary Anne gasp. I was sure of it.

  Perfect. Time for the saw.

  If you hold one of those floppy, old-fashioned saws by the handle and wobble the saw back and forth, it makes the weirdest sounds. With a little imagination, anyone could think they were hearing a space creature ... or a ghost.

  I knew Mary Anne would hear Jared Mullray.

  Then I put on the sound-effects tape. I had set it to play "The Howling Winds." When the winds died down, I turned the tape off. I knew Mary Anne was good and scared.

  Okay. Time to ring the doorbell.

  As quietly as I could, I left the passage, ran across the yard to our front door, rang the bell, then dashed back to the barn and through the passage again. At great risk, I opened the door into my room. I was holding a secret something that I had found on Saturday. It was a very realistic-looking silk rose. I laid it on top of Mary Anne's homework, then made a run for the passage.

  Not a moment too soon. I could hear Mary Anne's footsteps on the stairs. I stayed in the passage with an ear to the door, but I didn't have to be nearby in order to hear Mary Anne's scream.

  "Aughhh!" She nearly scared me, and I knew why she was screaming.

  I took my time leaving the passage. I wanted at least ten to fifteen minutes to go by before I rang the bell again. I even hung out in the barn for a few minutes. At last it was time to dash across the yard, ring the bell, and then run back through the passage. When I reached the door to my room I opened it cautiously, scrambled through, and laid a dried-out chicken bone on Mary Anne's notebook. It looked sort of like a human finger bone.

  This time I didn't have to fly back into the passage. I could hear Mary Anne on t
he phone downstairs. She was asking for Logan. So I tiptoed into the passage, making sure the door didn't quite latch behind me.

  It seemed like ages before Mary Anne dared to return to our room. When she did, I plastered myself against the wall in the passage. Before I could even start to crack the door open - "Aughhh!" Mary Anne saw the bone and let out a shriek. Then she must have seen the door to the passage, which I slowly pushed inward. I couldn't have opened it more than two inches when Mary Anne shrieked again and pounded down the stairs.

  I decided that Operation: Scare Mary Anne was over.

  I crept into our room, retrieved the rose and the bone, left them in the passage, then ran through it to the barn and across our yard, and let myself in the front door.

  "Mary Anne?" I called.

  "Aughhh!" she shrieked again.

  "Aughhh!" I shrieked. "You scared me!" (She really had. She had jumped out of the living room just as I'd entered the house.) Mary Anne was clutching Tigger and breathing heavily. "You won't believe what happened!" she exclaimed, and then proceeded to tell me everything. "That passage is haunted," she wound up, "just like I thought. . . . Hey, what are you doing home so early?" "The passage is not haunted," I told her. "And I'm home because the Pikes were all tired and wanted to go to bed, so they didn't need me anymore." "Oh," said Mary Anne. "But listen, that passage is haunted. I have never been so terrified. I even tried to call Logan. He wasn't home, though. Dawn, I can't spend another night in your room. I don't know how you can sleep in there, knowing the spirit of Jared Mullray is lurking around. I don't know how I slept in there. But I'm not going to do it anymore. I'm going to move into the guest room. Claudia said she would help me redecorate it if I ever wanted to." "But, Mary Anne - "I began.

  "I'm sorry," she said. "Do you know what Jared did? First he tried to be really nice to me by leaving me a rose. Then he left me a bone. An old, dried-up finger bone. Isn't that sinister?" "He left them?" I repeated. "Where?" "Come on upstairs." Mary Anne led me to my room. "See? They're right - " Mary Anne stopped. "Where are they?" She looked toward the door to the secret passage, but it was securely closed. If you didn't know it was there, you'd never even notice it. "Well, they were here," said Mary Anne.