Baby-Sitters at Shadow Lake Read online

  Guess what I chose for the theme for Faith Pierson. All right, here’s a clue. Dawn gave me the idea. What has been on her brain all week? (I mean, apart from the mystery.) That’s right. The Lake Monster. Not that I believe in the Lake Monster (or the Loch Ness Monster or any other monster), but it seemed like a good decorating idea, and besides everyone likes to wonder about monsters (including me) even if they say they don’t believe in them.

  The monster idea came to me on Friday. By Friday night, my friends and I were frantically trying to fashion a monster head and a monster tail. This was not easy, since I was without my art materials, and supplies at the store were limited. (So were my funds.)

  “How, exactly, are you going to turn Faith Pierson into a monster?” Kristy asked me on Friday evening. The seven BSC members were sitting on the dock, looking at our little boat and hoping for inspiration.

  “I’m not really going to turn her into a monster,” I replied. “That would be too hard. Besides, we don’t have enough time. I was thinking we could just make a monster head and a monster tail. We could put the head at the front of the boat, and the tail at the back of the boat. The boat itself will be the monster’s body.”

  “What color is the Lake Monster?” Mal wanted to know.

  I glanced at Dawn. “Ask Dawn,” I said. “She saw the monster.”

  “I did n —” Dawn started to exclaim. Then she caught herself. “Green,” she said. “The monster is green. And it looks like a tremendous snake.”

  “Maybe it really is a snake. Maybe that’s all you saw,” suggested Jessi. She shuddered. “Ew.”

  “I’ll say. If Shadow Lake is snake-infested and bug-infested, I better just go on home,” said Mal. “No point in staying here.”

  I wasn’t paying much attention to the conversation. “Hmm. Green and snakelike,” I muttered. “All right. Let me see. Kristy, do you think your mom would let me borrow those big green beach towels?” I asked.

  “I guess so. You’re not going to cut them up or anything, are you?”

  “I won’t even get them wet,” I answered. “Well, they might get a little wet, but that’s what towels are for. Okay. Now your costume, Kristy, will be easy to put —”

  “My costume?!”

  “Yes.”

  “I’m not wearing any costume.”

  “But you’re going to be on the boat with me.”

  “I’m going to drive the boat, that’s all.”

  “Kristy, if you are going to be on the boat in the parade, you have to wear a costume. That’s all there is to it.”

  “Oh, Mom, do I really have to?” cried Kristy.

  “Yes, dear,” I replied, laughing.

  “Then let me wear a boat driver’s costume. You know, a sailor’s hat. And epoxies or whatever those shoulder pads are called.”

  “Epaulets,” supplied Mary Anne.

  “Yeah, those.”

  “No, I want you to be part of the scene,” I said. “I’ve been thinking about what we could be, and I decided you could be one of those people who lives outdoors and studies animals and stuff.”

  “A naturalist?” asked Stacey.

  “I guess so. You could borrow Mal’s hat, Kristy, and carry a pair of binoculars.”

  “I could also lend her a piece of my mosquito netting,” offered Mal. “That would look realistic. I’ll show you just how to drape it.”

  Kristy still looked doubtful. “What about your costume?” she asked me. “You better wear one. I am not getting dressed up if you aren’t.”

  “Oh, I’ll be dressed up. I’m going to disguise myself as a typical tourist who wants to get close enough to the monster to photograph it.”

  “For that you need a costume? Why don’t you just let Dawn get on the boat with us?” said Kristy, smiling.

  “No, I’ll have a costume. I’ll wear a checked shirt and plaid shorts and I’ll hang six cameras around my neck.”

  Reluctantly, Kristy agreed to wear her costume.

  * * *

  The next morning, I woke up my friends early.

  “Boat parade day!” I announced. “We have work to do.”

  Did we ever. But with the seven of us, plus a few other pairs of helping hands, we managed to be ready for the parade by noon.

  “See you later!” Kristy and I called as we climbed into Faith Pierson. Everyone else was walking to the boat dock to view the parade. Kristy and I were going to motor on over to the spot where the parade would start.

  As soon as we reached it, I said, “Kristy, I want to go back. Now.”

  “Go back? We just got here.”

  “I know, but I decided I can’t go through with this.”

  “Oh, no. Why not?”

  “Because you and Charlie and everyone were right. Faith Pierson doesn’t belong in the parade. She’s too little. All the other boats really are yachts or houseboats or something big. No one’s even going to be able to see us. Besides, our decorations are puny.”

  My lake monster consisted of a snaky green monster head made from a couple of rolled-up beach towels, and a green monster tail made from more towels. Their only interesting feature was that they could move. I’d rigged them so that if I pulled on wires, they bobbed up and down. In all honesty, they looked fairly realistic. But in case someone wasn’t sure what they represented, I had made a sign for the side of the boat which read THE LAKE MONSTER. (It was the second sign I had made. The first one said THE LACK MUNSTER, but Kristy had seen it and caught my mistakes in time.)

  “Come on, Kristy, let’s turn the boat around,” I said.

  “No way. We came this far. Anyway, Mary Anne and Stacey and Mom and everyone are at the dock now, waiting for us to go by. If we don’t show up, they’ll think something horrible happened, like we capsized and were eaten by … the Lake Monster.”

  I had to smile at that. “All right,” I said. “I’ll risk it.”

  We were in the parade lineup by that time. Ahead of us was the boat with the western theme. Behind us was the Mardi Gras boat. Kristy started Faith Pierson’s motor. She kept it on low as we made our way slowly through the water in the direction of the dock. A few people were watching from the path by the shore. They clapped and cheered for the boats in front of us. Then they clapped and cheered for the cowboy boat.

  We were the next attraction. Just don’t laugh at us, I pleaded silently.

  They didn’t! Faith Pierson received a big round of applause.

  “They like us!” I exclaimed.

  “Why not?” Kristy replied. “I think we’re pretty cute.”

  By the time we reached the big dock I was used to looking out at the shore, waving the monster’s head and tail around, and listening for clapping and cheers. I thought I heard one person call out, “Gutsy!” (It sounded like a compliment.)

  “What does ‘gutsy’ mean?” I asked Kristy.

  “It means that what we did takes guts. We have courage.”

  “Yes!” I agreed. I was no longer afraid of the crowd on the dock.

  Guess what. Not only did the crowd love us, but we won a prize when the parade was over. And it was not one of those situations in which everyone wins a prize for something. No. Only four awards were given out, and Kristy and Faith Pierson and I received a ribbon that said MOST SPIRIT. Kristy told me I could keep it, and I knew I would — forever.

  The parade had ended, but the excitement hadn’t. On the way back to the cabin we had a real scare. Kristy was driving the boat again, and I was sitting in the front with Dawn who had come aboard to see our ribbon and then had decided to ride home with us.

  Most of the bigger boats were going to stay at the dock, so by the time we were halfway to our cabin, we had the lake nearly to ourselves. Kristy was concentrating on piloting the boat, I was daydreaming, and Dawn was gazing across the water at the island.

  Suddenly she screamed. And I mean screamed. I jumped a mile and Kristy jerked the steering wheel to the left.

  “What is wrong?” cried Kristy.

>   “I see the Lake Monster for real!” Dawn replied, pointing.

  I looked at the lake and saw nothing but a few teensy waves.

  Unfortunately, not everyone was quite as enthusiastic about our outing as I was. Dawn was particularly not enthusiastic.

  “You must be crazy, Kristy,” she said. “You’re not playing with a full deck. You’re a few bricks short of a load. The lights are on, but no one’s at home. You are —”

  “I get the picture,” I said. “Look, Dawn, if you don’t want to come with us you don’t have to. You can stay here.”

  “Wait, can I say just one more thing?”

  “Be my guest.”

  “The cheese has slipped off the cracker.”

  I giggled. “Okay. You have established that you think I’m —”

  “Looney tunes,” supplied Dawn.

  “Stop it! Geez, for someone who’s terrified, you’re sure, um, jolly.”

  “I pride myself on retaining my sense of humor. Even under duress.”

  At this point, Claudia nudged me. “What did she say?”

  “I’m not sure. I think she’s covering up her fear of … the island,” I replied. I hummed a few bars from the theme music for The Twilight Zone.

  “Okay, okay, okay,” said Dawn. She collapsed onto a lower bunk. My friends and I were clustered in the girls’ bedroom, which was a big mess.

  We were packing for our overnight trip to the island. To Shadow Island, as Dawn now called it. But anyone would have thought we were going to spend a month there instead of just a night. We planned to be on the island for less than twenty-four hours. Apparently, a few of us had forgotten that. Others (one in particular) had kept that in mind and still thought we were crazy to go to the island even for five minutes.

  It was Sunday morning. My friends and I had decided to leave for Shadow Island right after lunch. I was going to drive Faith Pierson there. (I just love saying I was going to drive.) Unfortunately, Faith Pierson was not big enough to hold all seven BSC members, so I was going to take three of us, and Sam was going to borrow a boat from the people in the cabin just up the lake (our next-shore neighbors) and drive the three remaining club members to the island. Then he was going to leave us (and Faith Pierson) there and come back at noon on Monday.

  “Stacey?” I said. “How come you’re packing your purse into your knapsack?” I asked, watching her stuff the strap down. “I don’t think Shadow Island features any shops.”

  Stacey made a face at me. “I’m protecting my privacy. I’m afraid Sam will go through my purse if I leave it here.”

  “Oh, he will not,” I said. “Sam’s a goofball, but he isn’t a snoop.”

  “Okay.” Stacey unpacked her pocketbook.

  I looked around the room. Jessi was packed and ready to go. She was sitting demurely on a bed, ankles crossed, waiting. Actually, she was staring into space, lost in thought. Claud was emptying her makeup bag into a pocket in her knapsack.

  “Planning on going out tonight?” Dawn asked her. “Got a hot date with a ghost? Old Mr. Bayard maybe?”

  Claud looked a little sheepish. “I guess I don’t really need this stuff.”

  “Well, I’m ready!” Mary Anne spoke up.

  “I can’t believe you’re so relaxed about this,” Dawn said to her.

  “It’s because I don’t believe in ghosts,” replied Mary Anne boldly. Then she added in a whisper, “Anyway I don’t think I do.”

  Dawn stared at her. Then she turned suddenly, dove for her knapsack, and started to unpack it. “I’ve just made a decision,” she announced. “I’ve decided I’m not going to Shadow Island after all.”

  “Oh, good,” I said. “You can stay here and have a sleepover party with Emily Michelle and the Three Musketeers.”

  “Hmm. Maybe I’ll come with you after all.”

  “Is everyone ready?” I asked my friends. “Why don’t you stand by the door with your stuff so I can make sure everything will fit into the bo —”

  I stopped speaking. I stared rudely at Mal. I couldn’t help it. “Mallory, does all that stuff belong to you?” She was surrounded by, like, seven tote bags.

  “Yup.”

  “What on earth did you pack?”

  “Well … a nightshirt, a T-shirt, my toothbrush, the mosquito netting, two hats, mosquito spray, tick spray, general bug spray —”

  “Who’s General Bug?” interrupted Jessi.

  “— a dozen citronella candles, calamine lotion, Lava soap, first-aid cream, drying lotion, Q-tips, cotton balls, spider repellent, and … and I’m not leaving any of it behind. Who knows what insects will be out on that island. It could be overrun with creepy-crawlies. It could be infested.”

  “Okay. I changed my mind again. I’m not going,” said Dawn.

  “Slumber party,” I reminded her.

  “Oh, yeah. Coming after all.”

  * * *

  Around one-thirty that afternoon my friends and I finished loading up Faith Pierson and the other boat, the Lake Mist.

  “Oh, my lord,” muttered Dawn.

  “Slumber party,” I whispered, and she kept quiet.

  Into Lake Mist climbed Jessi, Mal, and Mary Anne. Sam was at the helm. “Um, I can take one more, I think,” he said, glancing at Stacey. “Room for one more.”

  “No, you have four,” I told my brother, “and so do I. The boats are even this way. Claud, Stacey, and Dawn are coming with me.”

  Stacey shot me this incredibly grateful look, while Sam, the picture of disappointment, took the wheel of Lake Mist. I felt bad for him, but I didn’t want to start our adventure by making Stacey angry.

  On the dock were gathered Mom, Watson, my brothers, the Three Musketeers, Nicky, Linny, Emily, and Nannie. I felt as if they were seeing us off on a cruise.

  I felt like a celebrity.

  I also felt quite grown-up. That is, until Watson called Sam back to the dock, looking awfully serious.

  “Yeah?” said Sam, scrambling out of Lake Mist.

  “Would you kind of check out the island before you leave the girls there?” he said. (He was not exactly whispering. Also, he said “the girls” as if he meant “the children.”)

  I bristled. I was all set to stand up and say, “We are not babies, Watson,” when I felt Claud’s hand on my arm. “Chill out,” she whispered.

  I chilled.

  Anyway, I guess Watson had a point. None of us knew a thing about the island. It could easily have been the headquarters for a gang of thieves and thugs. Or it could have been overrun with poisonous plants. Who knew?

  When Sam finally returned to Lake Mist I looked at the crowd on the dock. For one brief, scary moment I thought my mother was going to cry, but she held herself together nicely.

  “’Bye!” I called.

  “Have fun,” said Mom bravely.

  “Be careful, Mal!” said Nicky.

  “I will!”

  “Sam’s coming back for us at noon tomorrow,” I reminded everyone. “But if anything should happen, Faith Pierson will be with us. We can always come ashore if we need to. Or four of us can.”

  “Use good judgment,” said Watson, like I really planned to rely on a poor sense of judgment while my friends and I were alone on an unfamiliar, possibly haunted island.

  A few minutes later we were off. We sailed leisurely away from our dock. (Well, we didn’t sail, technically, but you know what I mean.)

  “Shadow Island, here we come,” whispered Dawn.

  “Fun, here we come,” I said pointedly.

  “Aughhh!” shrieked Dawn.

  I didn’t bother to turn away from the wheel. “Dawn, the island may be haunted, but our boat isn’t.”

  “Aughhh!” shrieked Stacey.

  “What’s going on?” I asked.

  “Turn around,” said Claud, giggling.

  I turned around — just in time to see Dawn get hit with a stream of water. It came from Lake Mist. Jessi had shot her with a water pistol.

  “Take the wheel,
” I said to Stacey, grinning.

  “I don’t know how to —”

  “Just hold it!” I cried. Then I leaned over, scooped up some lake water, and shot it back at Jessi, using only my hands. (Sam taught me how to do that. I have pretty good aim.)

  The rest of the trip across the lake was one big water fight. By the time the boats were approaching the island, most of us were soaked.

  “There it is,” Dawn said, and the water fight came to an end.

  “It doesn’t look haunted,” I said brightly.

  No one answered. I glanced at Lake Mist, which Sam was steering alongside Faith Pierson. Everyone on board was scoping out the island. Several minutes later we were wading ashore. We grounded the boats.

  “Okay, let’s take a look around,” said Sam.

  From up close, the island appeared quite a bit larger than I’d first imagined it would be. Of course, the Bayards had actually lived there, had built a mansion there. The house was gone now, Dawn had said, but still….

  “I think it’s pretty,” said Mallory. “It’s so green.”

  “I like the pebbly beach,” added Mary Anne.

  “It’s hard to imagine that an entire family disappeared from here,” whispered Dawn.

  “I like the island. I really do,” I said as Sam and my friends and I took our first look around. The island was … well, it was clean. Shadow Lake sparkled around it, the pebbles and small rocks on the shore gleamed in the sun, and the leaves on the trees glistened a bright green. We could hear the water lapping against the rocks and some crickets chirping, but that was about it.

  Crickets. I began to wonder about the insect situation. While my friends scrambled over the rocks, I removed several of my tote bags from Lake Mist. I exchanged my sun visor for one of my hats. Then I searched around for the mosquito netting. I wasn’t going to go anywhere near the woods unless I was fully protected.

  “Mallory, come on!” called Jessi from the line of trees bordering the shore. “Sam wants to get going.”

  “Okay!” I ran forward a few yards, then skidded to a stop. What were we supposed to do with our gear? And who was going to watch the boats? We couldn’t just leave our things while we ran off to … Oh, yeah. No one else is on the island, I reminded myself. At least, no one we know of. We could leave anything anywhere we wanted. (And if something disappeared, that would be a clue that we should leave, too.)