Baby-Sitters Club 060

by Ann M. Martin

  I tried to smile. The idea was to have a discussion, not an argument. "Can we talk?" I asked.

  "What a surprise," Dawn said. "I didn't think you were talking to me." "I didn't think you were talking to me!" Dawn gave me a withering look. "I'm not the one who skips meetings, and talks to her boyfriend every minute of the day." "Well, I'm not the one who gets jealous because of a haircut and some clothes - " "Jealous? Me, jealous of you? Dream on, Mary Anne!" Dawn stomped down to the bottom of the stairs.

  "Wait!" I said.

  Dawn turned around. "I don't have time to listen to you. I didn't have the whole evening to lounge around the house and admire my boy haircut and clown makeup!" "Oh, go choke on an alfalfa sprout." Dawn stormed out of sight. I ran into my room and slammed the door. I was furious! Boy haircut? Clown makeup? How dare she? That was what I got for trying to talk things out with ... a witch! I should never have even bothered.

  I plopped on my bed and buried my face in the pillow. I was never going to talk to Dawn again. I wished I'd never met her. I wished my dad and her mom had hated each other in high school, so they hadn't gotten married. I wished . . .

  In the middle of my third wish, my mind turned to soup. I started to cry like a baby. I cried so hard, my sobs came in big hiccups.

  But I kept my face in the pillow. I was not going to let Dawn hear that I was upset.

  Well, you know how it is with a big cry. Sometimes it just puts things in perspective. When I sat up, my pillowcase was soggy but my head was clearer.

  And all I could think was, Mary Anne, you really blew it.

  Dawn had been mean, and her comments still stung. But I hadn't exactly been full of compassion myself.

  I took a deep breath and decided to try again. Dabbing my face with a tissue, I opened my door and went downstairs.

  Dawn was in the kitchen, sulking over a pot of boiling tofu. Outside I could hear Dad pulling into the driveway and Sharon greeting him. Dawn didn't look up when I came in.

  "Hi," I said.

  Dawn grunted.

  "Smells good," I said. Okay, I lied.

  "Mm-hm," Dawn said.

  "Urn, I'm sorry." "Yeah. Right." I'm sorry, too, Mary Anne was what I was sort of hoping to hear. But I guess I had to take what I could get.

  "Um, I really do want to talk," I said. "Nicely, if possible. No throwing tofu allowed." I saw a teeny smile on Dawn's lips. That was a good sign. "Should we have a referee?" she asked.

  This time we both smiled. Then we quickly looked at the floor.

  A car door slammed outside. "Let's go upstairs," I suggested.

  "Okay." When we reached my room, I sat on the bed and Dawn sat on the desk chair. I looked at the pattern on the bedspread. Dawn looked at the interesting weave of the rug.

  I hated the silence. "Um, anyway," I finally said, "I'm sorry ..." "You said that already." "Well, you said some pretty mean things, too," I pointed out, trying not to sound too harsh.

  "Mean? Look who's talking about mean!" "I didn't do anything to hurt you!" Dawn's mouth dropped open in disbelief. "No? Maybe you forgot about that trip to the mall two weeks ago." "All I did was get a haircut and buy some nice stuff. What was the big deal?" "Mary Anne, we're sisters, remember? We always used to talk to each other about everything. All our problems, all the big changes we were going through. . . . You didn't even tell me you were going to get your hair cut." "Daawwwn - " "It's not as stupid as it sounds, Mary Anne. What if I was thinking about dyeing my hair, or eating a steak dinner - something I'd never done before? Wouldn't you feel left out if I didn't ask your advice or tell you about it or include you in any way? I mean, you went from L. L. Bean to cover girl overnight! I'd have loved picking out clothes with you - even just being excited with you. Instead, you went shopping with your dad." "Well, the trip was his suggestion," I protested. "You know, a father-daughter thing. I couldn't help that." Dawn sighed. "I know. I guess that was part of it, too. You two looked so happy and close that day, and I felt left out. It was like he and you were doing something behind my back. And the feeling got worse when you started spending so much time with Logan. All the girls felt that, not just me." "Okay," I said. "I can see how you might have felt about the makeover and the mall trip, Dawn. But I wasn't trying, to hurt you. I just wanted to surprise you. I thought you'd be happy. I thought everyone would. I mean, you and Kristy and Claudia and Stacey - you're always telling me to stand up for myself and be independent. Then, when I finally do something independent, you treat me like a traitor. And I was spending all that time with Logan because he was the only person who was nice to me." "But then you went behind his back with that other guy - " "Carlos!" I laughed. "Wow, if I ever meet this guy, I'm going to tell him what a mess he's made of my life!" "What?" I shook my head. "It's just a dumb rumor. I wouldn't know Carlos if I passed him on the street." "You mean, Sabrina . . . ?" "Well, somebody started it." "Wow. I guess we were all assuming a lot of things." "Yeah," I agreed. "A lot." We both caught our breath. There was so much to think about.

  "I'm sorry, Mary Anne," Dawn said softly. "I think it was hard for me to see you change." "We all change," I answered, shrugging. "But that doesn't mean we can't like each other. Can't we be friends even if I have short hair?" There it was. Dawn's fabulous smile. "Okay," she said.

  We threw our arms around each other. Dawn burst out laughing.

  As for me, what do you think I did? At least I didn't douse my pillowcase again.

  Well, Rounds One and Two were over. Logan trusted me again, and Dawn had finally stopped being so nasty.

  Round Three took place on Wednesday at five-thirty.

  Yes, I went to the Baby-sitters Club meeting that afternoon. (And let me tell you, that record book was a disgrace - but that's another story.) When I entered Claudia's room with Dawn, the room went completely silent, just as I had expected. Only Jessi and Mal (who had been innocent bystanders during this ordeal) smiled at me, and I could tell they felt self-conscious about it.

  Well, I won't bore you with the details of our long, long discussion. It was a lot like the one Dawn and I had had, only with many more voices and the smell of Goobers in the air. (Oh, also a few phone interruptions.) By the end of it everyone was laughing, except me. I hadn't realized how much I'd missed my friends. I felt so happy to be with them I couldn't stop from crying again.

  And you know what else? All of them - everyone - told me how great my hair looked.

  After all that! When we had settled into our comfortable positions, and I was letting a Goober melt in my mouth, I remembered something important.

  "Oh, boy," I said. "Tomorrow is supposed to be Carolyn's first flight. All those kids are going to show up. We have to do something." I told my friends what was going to happen at the Arnolds' house.

  "Those kids are going to be so disappointed," Stacey said.

  "Disappointed?" Claudia repeated. "If Carolyn doesn't give them their money back, they'll tear the basement apart." "It's my fault," I said. "I shouldn't have let it get out of hand. I just didn't know what to do." "You could have called one of us," Stacey said.

  I nodded. "Yeah. I know." "I think I'm sitting there tomorrow," Kristy said.

  I opened up the record book. My stomach turned at the horrible, sloppy mess of pen smudges and loose papers inside! "Yuck," I said under my breath. I looked under Thursday and saw this: "Well, I'm going to be sitting for Jenny and Andrea," I said. "Maybe I should bring them over, so I can help you out. I think you'll need it when the kids come." Kristy raised her eyebrows. "Uh, yeah. And bring a helmet." Chapter 14.

  "Is it going to be scary?" Jenny Prezzioso whined for the five-hundredth time. "I hate scary things." "No," I said, pushing open the Arnolds' door. "And don't forget, I'll be with you the whole time. You'll be safe." "Andrea will, too?" "Andrea will, too." "Geeeeeeaaaaaa," was Andrea's contribution to the discussion.

  Jenny is four, and quite . . . well, spoiled. It took me a long time to convince her to go to the Arnolds'. (Andrea was much easier. She's o
nly a baby.) "Are you guys coming or what?" Marilyn shouted from the basement as we walked in.

  "Yes!" I called back.

  I took Andrea out of her stroller. Holding her in one arm and taking Jenny's hand, I descended with them both into the Realm of Warps and Wormholes.

  "Everything is red!" Jenny exclaimed, shaking. The basement was dead silent. Even I was a little spooked out.

  "That's because Carolyn switched light bulbs," I whispered, pointing to a red bulb.

  "Welcome, fellow travelers!" Carolyn said, rushing to meet us at the bottom of the stairs. In the red light, with her goggles and earmuffs, plus a set of springy antennae, she looked like a refugee from the planet Pluto.

  "Waaaaaaaahhhhhh!" Andrea wailed.

  I buried her face in my shoulder. "Shhh . . . it's all right . . ." Fortunately Jenny was fascinated. "Is that you, Carolyn?" "Dr. Arnold to you, young lady!" Carolyn said. "The brilliant Dr. Arnold!" Jenny laughed. "Doctor? Are you going to give me a shot?" Ignoring her, Carolyn said, "Follow me." She led us to the back of the basement, which was hidden by a huge blanket suspended on a rope. Behind the blanket were four folding chairs. Kristy and Marilyn were sitting on two of them, "grinning.

  Against the wall, the time machine (and the boiler) were covered with taped-together sheets. Jenny and I took our seats and .waited for the show to begin.

  "This is a special day," Carolyn announced. "I shall demonstrate my time machine to you alone, before the masses arrive." She reached out and grabbed the sheet. "And now, the moment we have all been waiting for! Ladies and gentlemen - " Jenny giggled again. "Silly, there are just girls here!" " - and children of all ages!" Carolyn barged on. "The time machine!" She pulled off the sheet.

  Jenny gasped. I almost did, too. The machine looked much different now. Carolyn had put tinfoil over the sides of the cartons, and all kinds of dials, bells, gauges, gears, and antennae had been attached. A huge lever stuck out of the side, made from a broom handle. Everything was connected with wires to a real generator on the floor (at least that was what it looked like).

  The cartons actually formed four walls with an opening. There was just enough room for a chair inside. A curtain was draped across the front (something like those instant photo booths at amusement parks).

  I almost jumped out of my seat when Carolyn reached inside to press a button and I heard these zapping and bubbling noises.

  "It's a tape recorder," Marilyn said. "She got the tape at a - " "Silence!" Carolyn commanded. "Now, Miss Arnold, are you prepared to travel to your requested time - Paris, France, in the year nineteen hundred?" "Yeah!" Marilyn said. "Ooh, I can't wait! 'Bye, everybody!" She ran into the machine and plopped onto the seat. "Are you sure you can get me back in time for dinner, Carolyn?" "Uh, yes!" "And I don't need any, like, special money, or warm clothing, or anything?" Carolyn was beginning to look uncomfortable. "I don't think so . . ." "All right. Well, this better be worth that dollar I paid you." Marilyn pulled the curtain closed. "And I'll be really mad if you don't get me back!" Now Jenny looked frightened. "Is she really going away?" she asked.

  "Just for a little while!" Marilyn called from behind the curtain.

  Carolyn's eyes were darting all around. Her fingers seemed frozen around the broom handle. I recognized the look on her face. I had seen it on another of our charges, Charlotte Johannsen, when she had to recite a poem in front of an audience.

  Carolyn had stage fright. And I thought I knew why.

  I leaned over to Kristy. "Can you take Andrea for a minute?" Fortunately Andrea was on the way to a nap. She fussed as I took her off my shoulder, then nuzzled happily on Kristy's.

  "Excuse me," I said aloud. "This is an emergency high-tech consultation about the, um, flux capacitator." "Hurry it up," Marilyn said.

  I took Carolyn into the corner and knelt down. "Are you okay?" I asked.

  "Uh-huh." "A little nervous after spending all that time building the machine?" She nodded meekly.

  "Carolyn, what do you really think will happen when you pull that lever?" I asked.

  Carolyn squirmed. I could see the brilliant Dr. Arnold trying to break through. Finally her face fell and she sighed. "Nothing." I remembered when I was eight and I was convinced I was a fairy princess. I kind of figured if I said I was, then I was! I was sure I'd convinced some of my friends, too - until finally they asked me to wave my wand and fly onto the roof of the house. When I didn't, they laughed at me. I ran inside and cried the rest of the night. I threw away my costume, and I never had that fantasy again.

  I could see something like that happening to Carolyn.

  "Don't look so sad," I said to her. "You built something really amazing. Everyone will enjoy going in it." "But - but I thought maybe it would work," she said. "I mean, there could be a real time machine someday." "Sure. But meanwhile you can still have fun with your machine. Remember all those time travel books you told Jessi you read? Those are pretend adventures. You knew it, but it didn't matter that the stories didn't really, truly happen, right? You still loved reading them." Carolyn grinned. "Yeah! We can pretend to take trips to other times and places!" Her eyes were darting back to that lever again.

  "There's just one thing, Carolyn," I went on. "When the kids come later on, maybe you should offer to give them back their money." "Okay," Carolyn said, nodding solemnly. She pulled a dollar out of her pocket and stuck it through the curtain to Marilyn. "Here." "What's this for?" Marilyn asked.

  "To buy yourself a hot dog in ... Paris in nineteen hundred!" With a dramatic flourish, she pulled down the lever. A bell rang and some gears turned. We oohed and aahed.

  Then, turning her back, Carolyn made eerie screeching noises and announced, "The years roll back . . . nineteen fifty, forty, twenty, zero! You're in Paris, the Feivel Tower!" "Eiffel!" Marilyn called.

  Carolyn turned to face us. Her antennae wobbled back and forth. "Now, ladies and gentlemen, our traveler is in the wormhole of the space/time continual, light-years away - " "Wormhole?" Jenny said. "Ew!" "Now comes the most difficult part," Carolyn went on. "To bring her back, we must position the flux capacitator at exactly the spot of electronic, uh, flux." She turned her back and screamed, "Weeeee-oooooo, weeee-ooooo! Now you're coming back! Poof!" She paused solemnly by the curtain, then yanked it open. "And there she is! Living proof, ladies and gentlemen!" "Yeeeaa!" We clapped and cheered and stamped our feet. Andrea whimpered, then went back to sleep.

  And Marilyn stood up, wide-eyed and ecstatic, like Dorothy seeing the Emerald City for the first time. "It was amazing! I had this big frilly dress, and the organ grinder's monkey danced for me, and I saw this incredible ballet dancer named Mickinsky ..." As she went on and on, I could see the happiness playing across Carolyn's face - even underneath the goggles.

  "Can I go next?" Jenny whispered, tugging on my sleeve.

  Somehow, I knew things were going to work out just fine.

  For the rest of the afternoon, kids filed into the basement. Carolyn became more and more confident about her "trips." A couple of the kids felt cheated, but most enjoyed the game. And they all got their money back. Kristy and I made sure of that.

  Afterward, Kristy and I walked to my house (I'd invited her for dinner). It felt wonderful to be friends again.

  "You know, the way you handled Carolyn was incredible," Kristy said.

  "Well, I knew how she felt. When I had trouble figuring out what was real and what was fantasy, I don't remember anyone talking to me about it. So I wanted to make sure I did with Carolyn." Kristy exhaled and watched a frosty white cloud circle her face and disappear. "Yeah. I guess it's important to talk when things get confusing, huh?" I gave my friend a big smile. "I guess." "Oh, by the way ..." Kristy said.

  "What?" "I really do like your haircut." Chapter 15.

  "Do you have Honey Rose?" I said breathlessly, running into Dawn's room.

  Dawn turned around on her dressing table seat. There was an hour to go before we were leaving for the January Jamboree, and I had run out of
blush. "Um, I doubt it. That's not my color." She rummaged through a drawer full of makeup. "How about Peaches and Cream?" she said, flipping open a compact.

  "No," I said. "Too pinkish." She held up another. "Nantucket Sand?" "Too dark." I reached in and pulled the top off an old pancake container that said Spring Blossom. "This looks about right," I said.

  "Great. You can use my sponge. I'm using a brush." I took the sponge, then dabbed a little of the blush on my cheek.

  The color was a tiny bit lighter than Honey Rose. "Well, I just hope I don't look like a ghost." "Don't worry." I ran . into my room and finished my makeup, then put on the dress I had bought at Steven E. My hair got messed up, so I brushed it out. Then I ran back into Dawn's room. "Can you zip me up?" Dawn turned to me with this huge smile. "You look stunning!" "I do?" "Wow!" For the first time I noticed Dawn's dress. It was made of black velvet, with a sheer bodice trimmed with beading and lace, and a flared, above-knee skirt. With black stockings and shoes, and her hair pulled up in a French braid, Dawn looked absolutely breathtaking. "You should talk!" I said. "Pete Black is going to faint when he sees you!" Pete, the eighth-grade president, was Dawn's date that night. It was the first time they had ever gone out.

  "Thanks!" Dawn said. "Now hold still." She pulled the zipper up the back of my dress and fastened the hook on top. I spun around and looked at myself in Dawn's mirror. "Oooooh, watch out, Logan! I said, shimmying a little.

  Dawn burst out laughing.

  "What's so funny?" I said.

  "I can't get over how much you have changed, Mary Anne!" I could feel myself turning red. "I was just kidding around." "It's okay. You're allowed. It's cute." "You see? You've changed, too!" I said. "It really bothered you when I first stopped being this demure, plain stepsister." Dawn nodded. "Yeah." She sat down again. I could tell the unpleasant memories were racing through her head. She sighed. "You know, Mary Anne, I was just thinking." I sat down next to her. "What?" "Well, seeing you so close to your dad really affected me." "I know. You said that." "Yeah, but I didn't tell you why it bothered me so much. It was just that. . . well, it made me think of my dad. Mary Anne, I miss him so much sometimes. I mean, your dad's great to me, but you're his daughter. And it was hard to see that." "I kind of figured that out, Dawn," I said gently.