Eleven Kids, One Summer

by Ann M. Martin

  “I thought you wanted to know what time it is.”

  “I do. But I thought it was morning, not the middle of the night.”

  Dinnie flicked off the light. “It is morning,” she told her sister. “It’s four-thirty. And today is the big day.”

  “Four-thirty,” said Faustine, rolling over, “is still the middle of the night. Wake me when the sun is up.” Faustine put her pillow over her head.

  Dinnie yawned. She was wide awake. How could anyone possibly sleep when she was just hours away from … her movie debut? Later that morning, the Rossos (all eleven kids) would have their big chance. They were finally going to get to be extras in a scene in Justin’s movie.

  Extras, Dinnie had learned, usually don’t get to say anything unless they’re all talking at once so you can’t really understand them. But that was okay. The Rossos were needed to pose as kids in a beach scene in Justin’s movie. They would appear in the background of the scene and they were supposed to do beachy things, like sit on blankets or build sand castles, while the camera focused on Justin and Chloe, who would be walking along the water’s edge, having a serious talk about their relationship. A lot of other Fire Islanders, including Melanie and Lacey, were going to be beach extras, too. (Everybody would get paid.)

  Dinnie lay in her bed. She wondered whether she would get to wear makeup. Or whether Laura would curl her hair the way she had curled Jan’s. Ordinarily, Dinnie didn’t care much about getting dressed up. But she thought she ought to look glamorous for her movie debut.

  Dinnie lay in her bed for as long as she could stand it. Near six o’clock, she finally got up. She tiptoed into the living room, wondering how she was going to occupy herself until her brothers and sisters woke up. Dinnie discovered that she wasn’t alone. Candy was up, too.

  “It’s movie day!” Dinnie whispered excitedly to Candy.

  “I know!” Candy, who had seemed preoccupied nearly all summer, actually looked halfway normal that morning.

  “I don’t know how I can wait any longer. Oh, I hope I get a really good extra part. I hope I get to throw a Frisbee or do something so people will notice me. Maybe I could rescue a hurt dog.”

  “Yeah …” Now Candy was far away.

  Dinnie followed her sister’s gaze. She realized that Candy was staring out the window at (what else?) the house next door.

  “Are you still thinking about that stupid house?” asked Dinnie impatiently.

  “Mm-hmm.”

  “Candy, come on. There’s no mystery. Or if there is, half of it’s in your imagination. The other half is probably someone playing tricks. Hannah. Or Woody. Or even the special effects people with the movie. You’ve seen the kinds of things they can do. They’re practically magicians.”

  “They can’t give me weird dreams,” said Candy.

  “No …” Dinnie kept her opinion about her sister’s dreams to herself. She didn’t want to get into an argument on the day of her movie debut.

  * * *

  Several hours later the Rosso kids were up and dressed. Mrs. Rosso took care of dressing Keegan. When she brought him into the living room, he looked like he was ready to have his school picture taken. He was wearing a freshly washed and ironed blue sunsuit, white socks, and a pair of white baby shoes. Although he had very little hair, Mrs. Rosso had combed what he did have and had even parted it and slicked it down with water.

  “Mom! What have you done?” exclaimed Dinnie.

  “Yeah, who is that?” asked Woody.

  “It’s your brother,” said Mrs. Rosso.

  “How’d he get to be forty-five years old?” asked Bainbridge.

  “Mom, he’s supposed to look like a beach baby,” added Abbie. “He should be wearing bathing trunks and a T-shirt and his sunhat. And his hair should look the way it always does.”

  “Yeah,” said Hannah. “You know, like he brushed it himself.”

  Mrs. Rosso sighed. She disappeared with Keegan. When she returned, Keegan was a baby again. He was even slobbering over a piece of pretzel.

  “Okay, let’s go!” cried Abbie. “Mel and Lacey are waiting.” She stooped and picked up Keegan, shifting him so that he rested on her hip. “Are you sure you don’t want to come, Mom?” asked Abbie. “They need grown-ups for this scene, too.”

  “I’ll leave the acting to you kids,” Mrs. Rosso replied. “Have fun.”

  Dinnie piled out of the house with her brothers and sisters. She grabbed Faustine’s arm. “May moo-vray le sacaray et le bon-bons?” she said.

  “Oh, mais non. Le bon-bon et le sacaray fay le —”

  “No French!” ordered Hannah.

  “Yeah, cut it out, you guys,” added Abbie. “I don’t want you to make a fool of me in front of Justin and Chloe.”

  “Can we make a fool of you in front of Mel and Lacey?” asked Woody.

  “No!” cried Abbie, but she was laughing.

  “How much are we getting paid today?” asked Hardy. “I forgot.”

  “Fifty bucks,” Abbie reminded him.

  “Fifty bucks each for each day we work,” said Ira.

  “Maybe they will need us for ten days,” said Jan. “Then I would earn …”

  “Five hundred dollars!” exploded Woody, who was not much good at math unless there were dollar signs in front of the numbers.

  Faustine sighed with pleasure. “If I had five hundred dollars, I would donate it to one of those places that helps hurt animals.”

  “I don’t care how much money I earn. I just want to become a famous movie star,” said Dinnie.

  “Gardenia, you are going to be an extra today, and that’s it,” said Abbie.

  “I know, I know, I know.” But Dinnie was imagining something. It was a large poster. The poster was an ad for a movie. And across the top were capital letters that read: STARRING REGINA ROSSO. (Regina would be Gardenia’s stage name. She would change it as soon as possible.) A crowd of people was exclaiming over the poster. They were saying, “What a brilliant star,” and “Such talent!” and “A brilliant actress. She’s the next Julia Roberts.”

  “There are Mel and Lacey!” called Abbie, in the middle of Dinnie’s good daydream. “Hurry up, you guys.”

  Dinnie and her brothers and sisters raced down the beach to where Mel and Lacey were milling around with Timmy and Jackie (their younger brothers) and a crowd of people. There were men wearing sunglasses, women carrying towels and blankets, and children with books and kites and Frisbees.

  “Are all these people going to be in the movie today?” Dinnie whispered to her twin. (She ducked as a Frisbee whizzed over her head.)

  “I guess …” said Faustine slowly. “Quelle som-bloovay. Je voudrais —”

  “Shut up!” hissed Abbie. “No French! And yes, all these people are going to be in the movie today, Dinnie. It’s a crowd scene, remember?”

  “Yeah,” mumbled Dinnie. She paused. “Abbie? Is being an extra going to be fun?”

  Melanie answered for Abbie. “It’s going to be work. And it might be boring.”

  Dinnie sagged. This was not what she had expected.

  Unfortunately, Mel was right. All morning, the extras waited. The director kept saying, “Okay, beach crowd. It’s time to —” And then something would go wrong. So the beach crowd sat. Or stood. Or talked. Keegan fussed, and Abbie had to take him home twice; once to change his diaper and once to get him a bottle of water. Ira had to go home a couple of times, too. He kept adding things to his outfit.

  “You look like a mummy,” said Hannah finally.

  “Do you want me to get sunburned?” Ira retorted, which was an unfortunate choice of words because Hannah replied, “Oh, why not?”

  It was past one o’clock in the afternoon when the director said to the extras, “Now we’re ready. Do you understand what to do? In this scene, Justin and Chloe are walking by the water’s edge, deep in serious conversation. You are simply the people on the beach doing whatever you’d be doing ordinarily — reading, playing, swimming, sunba
thing. You are not paying attention to Justin and Chloe, okay? You don’t know them. They’re just two people walking down the beach. Don’t even look at them.”

  The director and two others, a man and a woman, helped organize the extras. They handed out a few props. The woman gave Dinnie a plastic sand pail and shovel. She handed another pail and shovel to Faustine.

  “You two are adorable,” she said. “Stay together and work on a sand castle right here, okay? Just play like you do every day.”

  “Did you hear that?” Dinnie cried softly, as soon as the woman was out of earshot. “Faustine! she said I’m adorable.”

  “She said we’re adorable. After all, we are identical,” Faustine pointed out.

  Dinnie wasn’t listening. She was thinking: If I’m adorable, I should be noticed.

  At long last, the beach scene was set up. Justin and Chloe began to walk along the water’s edge, talking seriously.

  Faustine dutifully concentrated on creating a sand castle. Dinnie tried to be helpful. But it was so hard not to watch Justin, Chloe, and the action. Dinnie halfheartedly dug at some sand. She waited until she saw a camera that she thought was directed at her. She grinned. Then she waved.

  “Cut!” yelled the director. “Little girl, what are you doing? Please follow directions.”

  Justin and Chloe began the scene again. They were walking by the twins when Dinnie stood up, abandoning her shovel, and turned a cartwheel. (She landed on her bottom, but she didn’t care.)

  “Cut!” yelled the director. He ran to Dinnie. “Little girl,” he said again. He sounded very angry. But he caught himself and said sweetly, “Little girl, your job is to hold still.”

  This time Dinnie followed them down the beach. She turned another cartwheel.

  “Cut!” yelled the director. “Little girl, let me ask you one more time. What are you doing?”

  “Acting,” replied Dinnie.

  “Dinnie —” began Justin.

  “You know this kid?” said the director to Justin.

  “Sort of,” he replied. Abbie darted to Justin and whispered something to him. Justin frowned. Then he smiled. “She’s an aspiring actress,” he announced. He pulled the director aside and spoke to him for a few moments. The director sighed loudly. But he nodded his head. Justin called to Dinnie.

  “Yeah?” Dinnie trotted over to Justin and the director.

  “If I give you a small part to play in this scene, will you do it silently, follow directions, and leave Justin and Chloe alone?” the director asked Dinnie sternly.

  Dinnie gulped. “Yes,” she managed to say.

  “All right.”

  The director told Dinnie that she could take a dog for a walk and that she and the dog could pass right in front of the camera.

  “All right!” exclaimed Dinnie. This was perfect. What an opportunity. She was going to make her acting debut with an animal.

  The cameras began to roll again. Someone handed a leash to Dinnie (a fluffy gray dog was attached to the end) and gave her a little push. Dinnie walked proudly down the beach. She didn’t grin or wave or turn a cartwheel. She considered letting the dog loose and then chasing after him but decided not to.

  Justin and Chloe had nearly finished a mistake-free scene when —

  “Aughhh!” A shriek rang out.

  “It wasn’t me!” Dinnie yelled.

  Everyone looked around frantically.

  “It was me,” said Candy in a trembly voice. “There’s a face at the window!”

  “Oh, for heaven’s sake!” muttered Abbie.

  “A face at the window?” repeated Chloe, confused.

  “Yes! Over there! In the empty house!”

  Now everyone shaded their eyes and looked down the beach.

  “How can you see that far?” asked Justin.

  “I just can,” replied Candy in a small voice.

  “So can I. And there’s nothing at any window at that house,” snapped the director. “Everyone back to work. We’re wasting time. And money.”

  “You goon!” whispered Dinnie to Candy.

  “You’re the goon,” replied Candy. “Don’t you get it? All the special effects people are here. So there must be a ghost at the house. I’ve been telling you all summer that it’s haunted.”

  “You!” cried the director, pointing to Candy. “Out!”

  Dinnie might have put up a fuss, but Candy just wandered away, her eyes glued to the house. (Her mind was probably glued to it, too.)

  “All right. Positions, everybody. And no more mistakes!” The director said a very bad word then, and Dinnie and Faustine looked at each other and nearly exploded into giggles.

  Luckily, Dinnie calmed down. The cameras rolled again. As Justin and Chloe said their lines, Dinnie walked the little dog, acting quite casual, as if she were in front of cameras every day.

  The scene ended. For a moment, everyone was silent. Justin and Chloe glanced at each other, then at the director.

  “It’s a take!” the director announced.

  Dinnie let out a cheer. “I’m going to be famous!” she cried. She ran to Justin. “Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you for giving me my big break.”

  “No problem,” replied Justin, grinning.

  Someday, thought Dinnie, the whole world would know about Regina Rosso.

  One morning, late in August, Bainbridge lay in his bed, waking slowly and realizing that he was cold. All summer long, he had found his bedroom stuffy and hot in the morning, and sometimes at night, too. Now he needed the extra blanket that was folded across the foot of his bed.

  It must be raining, thought Bainbridge. Great. Only five days of freedom left before we leave the island and go back to school, and one of them is going to be wasted indoors. What a drag.

  But when Bainbridge raised the shade and looked outside, he saw a bright, sunny day. Shivering, he got up and pulled on a T-shirt. Then he stepped into the living room, whispered a good morning to his mother and Candy, who were sitting in the kitchen, and opened the front door.

  He breathed in deeply. The air was beachy — salty and sharp — but it was chilly. Bainbridge noticed a few red leaves on the sumac bushes. It’s almost fall, he realized. Summer is ending.

  Bainbridge had thoroughly enjoyed the summer. He was somewhat worried about Candy, who might possibly be looney tunes or going bonkers, he thought. Other than that, life was great. For one thing, Bainbridge had met Amelia on the beach. His chickwatching had paid off, although now that he and Amelia were spending so much time together, Bainbridge no longer thought of her as a chick. Amelia was his friend. And he hoped he was hers.

  For another thing, the crafts fair would be held the next day — Saturday. Bainbridge was eager to see how Woody would do. His younger brother had signed up for a table at the fair and had created a menagerie of animals to sell, along with a selection of candy dishes and his new line of soap dishes. (Like the candy dishes, the soap dishes were decorated clamshells. Bainbridge couldn’t distinguish the two kinds of dishes, but apparently Woody could.)

  Bainbridge had high hopes for the last days of his vacation. He and Amelia would spend most of their time together. They would sunbathe on the beach, walk through the wildlife preserve, buy ice-cream cones, help Woody at the fair, play volleyball, and maybe do a little body-surfing.

  But Bainbridge’s plans began to fall apart right after breakfast that morning — when Amelia showed up.

  She knocked on the screen door. Hardy dashed to it, let Amelia in, and called, “Hey, Bainbridge, your girl friend is here.”

  Bainbridge rarely lost his temper. He was so good-natured that kids hardly ever teased him, even about his name (unlike hot-tempered Dagwood, who was often teased because kids knew they could get a rise out of him).

  Bainbridge ignored the “girl friend” remark. Possibly, he hadn’t noticed it. At any rate (to Hardy’s dismay), Bainbridge merely walked to the door, calling, “Hey, Amelia. You’re up early.”

  “We got bad news last night,�
� she whispered. “Bainbridge? Can I talk to you in private? It’s sort of important.”

  “Let’s sit outside,” Bainbridge replied. Then he added, “Away from the windows.” (He knew his brothers and sisters too well.)

  Bainbridge and Amelia walked to the top of the steps that led to the beach.

  “What’s wrong?” asked Bainbridge, putting his arm around Amelia.

  “My grandfather called last night. Grandma Joan had a heart attack. It was a mild one, but she’s in the hospital, and my dad wants to see her right away. So we have to leave. We’re flying to Arizona this afternoon.”

  Bainbridge could feel his stomach drop. “You have to leave?” he repeated.

  Amelia nodded.

  So Bainbridge and Amelia said good-bye. Bainbridge wasn’t sure if he’d see her again. He lived in New Jersey; she lived in Connecticut. And Bainbridge didn’t know whether his family would return to Fire Island the next summer.

  “Are you still going to help me tomorrow?” Woody asked Bainbridge that evening. “You don’t have to —”

  “Don’t you want me to?” replied Bainbridge.

  “Yeah, but —”

  “Then I’ll be there. I’ve been looking forward to the fair.”

  “Me, too.”

  * * *

  Bainbridge and Woody woke up extra early on Saturday morning.

  “I’m never the first one up,” commented Woody sleepily.

  “Me neither,” mumbled Bainbridge. “But come on. The fair is going to start in a few hours. You have a lot to do.”

  So did Bainbridge. However, just as he and Woody were about to set off for the fair, Mrs. Rosso called, “Bainbridge? I need you to watch Keegan this morning.”

  Bainbridge groaned. But he knew better than to protest. “You do?” he said.

  His mother nodded. “Your father and I want to pack up some of this stuff. We may even mail a few cartons home so we don’t have to wedge them into the van. We seem to have acquired an awful lot of junk this summer. By the way, do you know if Ira wants his entire shell collection? Some of it is getting smelly.”

  “I don’t know,” Bainbridge replied. He set Keegan in the stroller and tied on his little sneakers with the anchors printed over the toes. Then he packed up the diaper bag and called to Woody.