Before I could tell everybody what I’d learned about Mary Sears Randolph, Mary Anne said, “Claud, I saw you talking to Georgio again. What was that all about?”
I told my friends about helping lay out the rosebushes, and how Georgio offered to help us with the float for the Founders’ Day parade. I even told them about the neat sixties float he’d made with his friends.
“I think Georgio has a crush on you,” Kristy put in.
“You guys,” I said. “There’s something I haven’t told you yet. Actually, there’re two things. One is that Georgio’s old — he’s in college and he has his driver’s license.”
“That means he could be nineteen, or even older,” Dawn exclaimed. “Does he know how old you are, Claud?”
I shook my head no and went right on to the second thing I hadn’t told them. “I saw an orange candle in the shed where he keeps his tools. A used one.”
“Why would he have a candle in the toolshed?” Kristy asked.
“For light?” Mary Anne suggested. “Maybe there’s no electricity in there.”
“He turned on a light so I could see the picture of his sixties float,” I told them. “So the shed has electricity.”
“Do you think he’s the one who’s been trying to scare us?” Dawn asked.
“But we know it was Lionel,” Mary Anne said. “We caught him in the act.”
“Lionel was carrying a white candle,” Dawn pointed out. “The wax we found on the rug was dark orange.”
“And we never asked Lionel if he was the one who scared us that first night,” I said. “We just assumed he did.”
“So, Claud, you’re saying we could have two phony ghosts,” Kristy said. “The Lionel ghost last night and the Georgio ghost the night before.”
“What about the lights on the fourth floor?” Mary Anne asked.
“And the footsteps,” Kristy added.
“And the scream we heard in the middle of the night,” Dawn said.
“There’s one more thing I haven’t told you guys about Georgio,” I said. “He sometimes sleeps in the gardener’s cottage.”
“You mean he might have been there last night, spying on us,” Dawn said with a shudder. “That’s creepy.”
“Or maybe he wasn’t in the cottage,” Kristy said, “but on the fourth floor of the mansion, turning lights off and on.”
“But the door’s locked,” Mary Anne reminded us.
“He’s been around the estate his whole life,” I said. “He probably has a way of getting up there. Maybe there’s a secret passage.”
“So he could have been the one walking up and down in the fourth floor hall,” Dawn said.
“And screaming in the middle of the night,” I added.
“But why would Georgio want to scare us?” Mary Anne asked.
“That’s the mystery,” I said. “But there’s one last thing you don’t know.” I finally told them the tragic story of Reginald Randolph who was lost at sea, and his wife’s nightly vigil on the widow’s walk.
We looked up at the widow’s walk. I imagined Mary Randolph standing there in her white dress . . . every night . . . for twenty years. Even in the noon sun I shivered. I wondered if Mary was now spending her nights haunting the mansion? Or was someone else — Georgio, perhaps — trying to make us think the Randolph mansion was haunted?
Reese is a small town. But there are lots of kids around. There were tons of them at the beach. And some at the library. I made a promise to myself. By the end of Monday, Martha Menders would have three new friends. And they would all be nice.
After lunch I helped Mary Anne straighten up the porch. “So what are we going to do this afternoon?” I asked her.
“There are some stores I’d like to check out in town,” Mary Anne said. “It might be fun to start the afternoon there.”
Goody. There would be lots of kids in the kinds of stores they have in Reese. They have one store called “Fudge Depot” that just sells fudge. And one next to it called “Mity Kites.” You can guess what they sell. “I’ll go get Martha,” I told Mary Anne.
“I’m going to buy Claudia an early birthday present,” Mary Anne said. “So don’t invite her, okay?”
“Okay,” I said.
I love secrets. And I am great at keeping secrets secret. I found Martha swinging in the hammock with Claudia. I told Martha that we were going to town with Mary Anne. Claudia said she might come, too. But I told her that Mary Anne had a special reason for not wanting her to go shopping with us. Claudia smiled and said, “I guess I’ll just rest in the hammock instead of going with you.”
“I’m going to stay here, too,” Martha said. “I want to read The Secret Garden.” That was the book she had checked out from the library.
I put on a pout and told Martha that I love shopping and I wanted to look for presents for my family. And that I needed her help. The pouting worked because Martha climbed out of the comfy hammock and came with me.
On the way to town Mary Anne asked Martha how she liked Reese so far. Martha said, “I want to go back to Boston. We live in a big apartment in a new building with an elevator. That’s where my best friend Louise lives.”
I thought I was Martha’s best friend. At least while I was visiting her. Well, I would be her best friend soon. Just wait until I introduced her to a bunch of kids in Reese. I knew that Martha and I and all her new friends would have loads of fun together. I am like Kristy. I enjoy challenges.
“Here we are,” Mary Anne said. “This is the store where I’m sure I’ll find a good present for Claudia.” It was an art supply store.
We went inside. Mary Anne and Martha walked up and down the aisles looking for the perfect present for Claudia. I walked up and down the aisles looking for the perfect friend for Martha. All I could find were teenagers or kids who were a lot younger than us. Boo, boo, boo.
My luck changed when Mary Anne was standing at the cash register buying a face painting set for Claudia. Martha was sticking to Mary Anne like glue. And I was looking at a pack of construction paper and thinking of what I could make with it.
Here is the good luck part. A girl my age (and Martha’s) walked into the store with her mother. The girl looked familiar to me. Then I remembered why. I ran to her and said, “Hi. I saw you on the beach yesterday. You had on a red two-piece bathing suit with butterflies.”
“Oh,” was all the girl replied. Then she looked at the floor. Her mother said, “We were at the beach yesterday, but I don’t remember that Amber played with you.”
“We did not officially meet,” I admitted. “But I noticed her. And I thought, that girl would like to meet my friend Martha. Martha Menders who just moved to Reese. Martha is loads of fun. So here she is — Martha Menders!” I turned to the cash register where Mary Anne and Martha had been standing. They were gone.
“I think your friends left,” Amber’s mother said.
I looked through the store window and saw that she was right. Martha and Mary Anne were already waiting outside for me. Martha was holding Mary Anne’s hand and looking down at the sidewalk. But Mary Anne was looking at me. She signaled for me to come out.
I signaled for her to come back into the store. She shook her head no.
“I have to go now,” I told Amber and her mother. “But do not forget,” I added with a big smile. “Martha Menders. She is a great kid.”
When I ran outside I told Mary Anne, “You should not have kept telling me to come out. You should have come back inside. I met a perfect friend for Martha. Her name is Amber and she is shy, too.”
“Karen, I think you should let Martha meet people in her own way,” Mary Anne said.
I did not think Mary Anne Spier was the best person to give me advice about how to help Martha meet people. After all, next to Martha, Mary Anne is the shyest person I know.
Now my stepsister, Kristy, is not shy. That is one of the things I love about her. And Kristy knows how to take action and make things happen. So I was glad when we saw Krist
y walking toward us on Main Street. (Jason and Andrew were with her.)
“Where are you guys going?” I asked.
Kristy was carrying her baseball glove and a bat. She was wearing her baseball cap. Jason had a glove too, and his new softball.
“Come on,” he said to Kristy. “Let’s go.”
“Just a sec,” she replied. Then she told us she was taking Jason to the playground to meet some guys his own age. The playground! It was just like Kristy to come up with an idea like that. A playground was the perfect place to meet kids.
“Bunch of girls,” Jason mumbled. “Everywhere we go there are more girls.” Jason can be really dumb about stuff.
“Why don’t we take Andrew with us?” Mary Anne suggested. “We’re checking out some of the stores we missed yesterday. Then we’re going to watch the boats in the harbor.”
“That’d be great,” Kristy told Mary Anne. “Jason and I will catch up with you later. Let’s go, Jason.”
But Jason was already walking down the street.
“Wait up, Jason,” Kristy called as she ran after him.
“Let’s go, kids,” Mary Anne said to us.
“We are going to the playground, too,” I said. I grabbed Martha’s hand and yanked her down the street. When we caught up to Kristy she called back to Mary Anne that she would baby-sit for us, and Mary Anne could just take Andrew to the harbor. I wanted to see the boats in the harbor, too. But I knew it was more important to help Martha make friends.
At the playground was a ball field, a playground, and a big barn. A bunch of boys Jason’s age were playing softball. And some kids were playing on the slides and the jungle gym. “Jason and I are going to the ballfield,” Kristy said. “You girls stay around here.” She whispered to me, “Jason wants to meet boys his own age. I need you to stay out of the way for awhile. Okay?”
Martha and I played on the swings, but I kept an eye on how Jason was doing. Kristy was tossing the softball to him. He could catch and hit a softball pretty well. I am on Kristy’s softball team so I know a lot about softball. The guys playing in the field were not so good. I could not understand why they did not ask Jason to play. And Kristy, too. She could have helped them have more fun. At home we have much more fun when Kristy plays softball with us than when we try to play games on our own. Maybe Martha could play softball, I thought. Maybe if we started playing with Kristy those other boys would invite us to play with them. And I knew some of those boys must have younger sisters for Martha to meet.
Martha and I were swinging back and forth on the baby swings, pushing sand with our feet. “Martha,” I said, “come on. Kristy wants us on the ballfield.”
“No, she doesn’t,” Martha said. “I’ve been watching.”
“She does, too,” I said. “I know what Kristy is thinking and she wants to teach you softball. She is my sister and I can read her mind.”
“No, you can’t,” Martha said.
“I can, too. I know she wants us to come over right now and you have to do it because she is our baby-sitter.”
“No, I don’t,” Martha said.
I lost my temper. I could not help it. “You have to because I said so,” I yelled. “I need to find some friends for you so you will like to live here. Help a little. Say hi to the people I introduce you to. Look them in the eye. Why do you have to be so shy?” I was so mad I kicked a little sand in her direction.
She kicked more sand back at me. “Why do you have to bug me?” she asked.
“Because I like you,” I shouted. I kicked sand at her again. But the wind blew it back in my face.
“I’m sorry,” Martha said.
I thought it was so funny that I kicked the sand and she apologized that I had to giggle. “You did not kick it,” I told her. “I did.”
“But I kicked sand, too,” Martha said. “So I’m sorry.”
“Me, too,” I said. “I am sorry I yelled.”
“Are we still friends?” Martha asked.
“Of course we are.”
Martha had a lot to learn about friendship. You can be friends even if you have a fight.
“Come on,” I said. “We can help Kristy play ball with Jason.”
Martha followed me to the softball field. Jason looked pretty disappointed to see us. Kristy did, too. But sometimes you have to ignore what people think and do what you know is right for your friends. Those other boys were stupid. They did not ask any of us to play ball with them. Even when they saw me play. Which shows you how much they know about softball. Not much.
The Rosebud Cafe, where I’m working as a busboy, is usually pretty busy. That’s why our boss says, “No phone calls or friends dropping by while you’re on the job.” I made sure to tell this to my friends when I started the job. So I was pretty surprised when a so-called friend of mine — Mallory Pike — burst into the Rosebud on Monday and started trailing me while I cleared tables and served water and bread. And she was yakking a mile a minute!
“Mal, I can’t talk now,” I hissed at her over my shoulder. “Can’t you see that I’m busy?”
“You don’t understand, Logan,” she insisted. “This is important.”
“You can’t follow me around, Mal,” I insisted. “My boss will have a fit. I’ll get fired.”
“Okay. I’ll stay right here.” Mallory stood between the counter, where I pick up water and bread, and the door to the kitchen, where I take trays of dirty dishes. As I made trips back and forth, Mal told me what had happened at the Monday BSC meeting.
I wasn’t at the meeting (obviously) and neither was Shannon. It was just Mal and Jessi in Claudia’s room. Mal had been acting president and Jessi had been acting secretary.
The first thing Mal and Jessi did was check the answering machine. But there were no messages.
“Do you think that’s because people know that Kristy and the others aren’t here?” Jessi asked. “Maybe Jake told all the other kids that they’d get us if they called for sitters.”
“I don’t know,” Mal answered. “Maybe.”
“How did things go with the twins at the Prezziosos’?”
“I barely survived,” Mal told her. “It’s the sort of job that would be better with two sitters. I already wrote about it in the notebook.” She sighed. “But I’m baby-sitting for them again tomorrow — solo.”
Just then the phone rang. Mal looked at the clock and saw that it was exactly five-thirty. The call was from Mrs. Arnold, asking that I (Logan) go to my job (the one I hadn’t heard about yet) at her place a few minutes early.
Mal was afraid Mrs. Arnold could hear her voice shaking when she told her, “Sure, Mrs. Arnold. I’ll get in touch with Logan right away. He’ll be there by seven-fifteen at the latest.” When she hung up, Mal asked Jessi, “Did you tell Logan about that job at the Arnolds’ tonight?”
“I thought you were going to,” Jessi answered.
“I forgot,” Mal confessed. “We better call him right away.”
Jessi checked the schedule I’d given them and saw that I was working at the Rosebud until six-thirty. “Even though he told us not to, I’m going to call him at the restaurant,” Mal said. “It’s an emergency.”
But before she could pick up the phone, it rang again. This time it was Mal’s mother needing a sitter for the next day. Mal told her there were no sitters available. “But I’m one of your oldest and best clients,” Mrs. Pike complained, only half-joking. Mallory felt awful about disappointing her mother. But what could she do?
The phone rang again. This time it was a new client who’d heard about the BSC from the Braddocks. “I’m sorry,” Mal said, “but we don’t have any sitters available tomorrow afternoon. Please call us again.”
“Don’t forget to call Logan,” Jessi reminded Mal. Before Mal could make the call there was a knock on Claud’s door. “It’s me. Janine.” Claudia’s sister poked her head in the room.
“We’re having a Baby-sitters Club meeting,” Jessi told her.
“I need to speak with
you,” Janine replied.
“When our meeting is over,” Mal said. “We have a lot of calls to make.”
“More than you think,” Janine said.
“What do you mean?” Mal asked.
“First of all, did you know that your answering machine isn’t on?”
Mal and Jessi checked the machine and saw that she was right.
“So that’s why we didn’t have any calls,” Jessi said.
“On the contrary,” Janine said. “You had numerous calls. On our family phone line. When your answering machine didn’t take calls, your clients called us. Here.”
She handed Mal six messages. One of them was from Shannon, listing the times when she could baby-sit. It was a short list. All the others were from clients requesting sitters. Just then the phone rang with another client needing a sitter. Mal said she’d call right back.
“Janine,” Mal said when she hung up the phone, “um, how would you like to make some extra money?”
Janine agreed to take one job. “I certainly don’t want to see the club destroyed because some of its members are on an out-of-town assignment,” she said.
The club destroyed? Janine had just put Jessi’s and Mal’s worst nightmare into words.
“So,” Janine continued, “I’ll take one night job. But I can’t oblige you tonight.” She grinned. “Because I have a date.”
They gave Janine a job with the Hobarts for the following night.
After she left, the meeting lasted an extra twenty minutes, while Mal and Jessi returned clients’ calls. Out of six jobs, they had to turn down four. At that point, Mal told me, they were so desperate for more baby-sitters that they considered calling Stacey McGill, our ex-treasurer, to see if she’d help out.
“We can’t ask Stacey to help us,” Jessi said. “Even if she said she’d take a job, she might not show up for it. You know she puts Robert before anything else.”
“That’s what’s so great about Mary Anne and Logan,” Mal said.
“Logan,” they screamed in unison as they remembered that they still hadn’t told me about my job with the Arnolds.
Baby-Sitters' Haunted House Page 6
