Mystery At Claudia's House

by Ann M. Martin

  "Do me one favor," she said, interrupting.

  "Don't ask me why, okay? Let's just say it's time for a change, and leave it at that." She gave me an intense look.

  "Fine!" I replied. Wow. I was dying to know ' what was going on with my sister, but I could see she was not about to tell me. Anyway, I figured it certainly was time for a change. After all, Janine is sixteen, as Stacey had pointed out. "Well," I said, putting down my needle. "Let's see. Where should we start? Stand up, Janine."

  She stood. I looked her over and took inventory: straight black hair, cut in an old-fashioned Dutch-Boy style. Black wire-rim glasses. Navy-blue crewneck sweater, worn over a white blouse with a Peter Pan collar. Pleated knee-length gray wool skirt. Gray knee socks. Brown loafers. In those clothes, she looked like a skinny twelve-year-old. "Oh, boy," I said, sighing. "We've got our work cut out for us."

  "I don't want anything too wild," said Janine nervously.

  I laughed. "Don't worry. We'll take it one step at a time." I grabbed her hand and pulled her over to the full-length mirror. "First of all, your clothes need a little pepping up. You can keep that preppie style if you want, but let's make it a little more interesting." I pulled a green-and-blue patterned sweater out of my

  bottom drawer, and a white oxford shirt out of the closet, then found a short black wool skirt I hardly ever wear. "Try these on," I said. "See, it's the same thing: sweater, blouse, skirt. Only a little more daring and a little more defined."

  Janine stepped into the bathroom to change. She's shy that way. When she came out, she was grinning. "I like it!" she said. "I look really different, but I'm still comfortable. This is great!"

  I studied her. "Not bad," I said. "But you're going to have to ditch those loafers. Brown doesn't work with that outfit. Here, try these." I tossed her a pair of short black boots, and she put them on. "Perfect!" I said. "Now, let's work on your hair and your face." I sat her down at my dressing-table and stood behind her so we were both facing the mirror.

  Janine shook her head dismally. "I'm so plain," she said. "You got all the good looks in the family."

  "No way!" I cried. "You're really pretty. You just need to play up your best features." I thought for a moment. "Have you ever considered getting contacts?"

  "Oh, I don't think so," she said quickly. "I'm used to my glasses. I would hate to have to fuss with contact lenses."

  "Okay," I said, sensing that it would be better not to push the issue. "So we'll stick with the glasses. I think the first thing we should do is get some of that hair out of your face." I picked up a can of mousse and spritzed some onto my hands.

  "What are you — " Janine began, but before she could stop me, I'd slathered the mousse all over her hair. "Oh, no," she said.

  "Calm down," I replied, giggling. "I promise I won't hurt you." I played around with different hairstyles: first I swept all her hair over to one side, then I slicked it all back, then I made a little ponytail high on top of her head. None of them seemed right, and Janine was beginning to look horrified. Finally, I just pushed her bangs over to one side, added a couple of colorful barrettes, and stepped back. "That's it!" I said. "It looks great."

  Janine gazed into the mirror and turned her head from side to side. "It looks okay, I guess," she said. "But what was that stuff you used? Do I have to get some? Where do I buy it?"

  I cracked up. Janine is so smart about some things, but in other ways she's like a child. "It's just mousse," I said. "It's in all the drugstores. You might want to get some gel, too."

  Janine shook her head. "I'll never learn to

  use all this stuff," she said. She checked her reflection again and touched her hair. "Hey, it's stiff!"

  "Use your fingers to comb it out a little," I said. "It'll soften up. Look, there's really nothing to it. I'll help you again next time, but you'll be able to do it yourself before you know it." I realized I ought to keep Janine's new beauty routine very, very simple. She wasn't used to spending time on her appearance. While Janine played with her hair, I looked through my makeup and picked out some mascara, some blush, and a pinkish lip gloss that wasn't too dramatic.

  "What about eyeshadow?" asked Janine. I remembered the blue smears she'd had on the other day, and winced. "If you want it, I'll show you how," I said. "But I think maybe brown would be a better color for you." I told her to close her eyes, and I quickly made her up, telling her what I was doing every step of the way. "Okay," I said, when I was done. "Take a look."

  She opened her eyes and peered into the mirror. "Is that me?" she asked. "I can't believe it."

  She did look different. I was going to have to get used to the new Janine.

  "Thanks a lot, Claud." She was still staring at herself. "Wow," she said, under her breath.

  Then she stood up to leave. She seemed to be in a trance.

  "Why don't you stick around for a few minutes ?" I said, looking at the clock. "The club is meeting soon, and you could show everyone how you look."

  "Club?" said Janine. "Oh, my gosh! You mean it's almost five-thirty?" She whirled around and checked the clock. "I have to go! I have to meet — I mean I have to be at the library!"

  The library? Janine had been at the library every night that week. She'd been at the library the night she missed dinner. I know Janine's grades are important to her but nobody could have that much homework. "Janine," I said. "Where are you really going?"

  "I can't talk!" she gasped. "I'm late. Thanks again — and 'bye!" She ran out of the room and after a moment I heard the front door slam.

  A few minutes later, Kristy showed up. Stacey, Dawn, and Mary Anne were right behind her. And Jessi and Mal ran up the stairs at 5:25. I was mystified by Janine's behavior, so I grabbed the five minutes before our meeting to tell my friends about her strange behavior. I even told them that I suspected that she had been the person who had been "messing up" my room — not that I had any idea why she

  would do that. Stacey had heard some of the story before, but this time even she was impressed by how different Janine seemed. "What do you think is going on with her?" she asked.

  "I bet she got offered a part in a TV commercial," said Jessi. "That happened to this boy I used to know. He was just walking down the street, and these people came up to him, and — "

  "That's pretty unlikely," interrupted Kristy. "She's probably thinking about running for student council, and she wants a new image."

  "What?" asked Dawn. "No way. She must be up for some academic prize, and she's trying to impress her teacher."

  "Maybe she has a boyfriend," said Mallory.

  I looked at Mallory and snorted. Stacey laughed, too. The idea of Janine in love was pretty ridiculous.

  We talked about my sister until Kristy interrupted us to bring the meeting to order. Then we talked about her some more, between phone calls. But we could not figure out what was making Janine act so weird. And the mystery was beginning to drive me crazy.

  Chapter 7.

  Stacey had tried to interest the boys in some kind of activity; a walk, a trip to the playground, an art project. But they vetoed every idea she came up with.

  "It's been a long week," said Derek, sighing, "Now that it's over, I just want to relax."

  Stacey couldn't -help giggling. Derek sounded like some forty-five-year-old guy with a job and a mortgage on his home.

  "What?" he said, when he noticed her laughing.

  "Nothing. But I would think school would be a breeze after the way you work when you're in L.A."

  "School, a breeze?" asked Derek, raising his eyebrows. "Not for me! I mean, I like it okay and all, but boy, these Stoneybrook teachers give a lot of homework."

  "Hmm. Well, do you have any this weekend?" Stacey asked. "Maybe I could help you with it."

  "Uh, no," said Derek quickly. "That's okay. Really."

  Stacey frowned. She noticed that Derek and Todd kept exchanging glances, whenever they thought she wasn't looking. She decided to ignore their mysterious behavior and just hope i
t would stop soon.

  "So, how about if I fix us a snack, you

  guys?" she asked. She was pretty sure they wouldn't turn down food.

  "Sure!" said Todd. "Can I have a Popsicle?"

  "He won't eat anything but Popsicles anymore,” said Derek. "Really! That's practically all he eats."

  Stacey looked at Todd. He seemed healthy enough. "Well, if that's what you want, that's what you'll have," she said to him. "How about you, Derek?"

  "Maybe a bowl of cereal. But I can get it myself."

  Stacey led the boys into the kitchen. "What flavor do you want?" she asked Todd.

  "Blue!" he answered.

  Stacey laughed. "Is blue a flavor?" she asked. "Or a color?"

  "Both," said Derek. He was pouring milk into a huge bowlful of Cheerios. "Those Popsicles don't taste like any certain flavor. They just taste blue."

  Stacey hadn't had a Popsicle in years (because of her diabetes) but she kind of remembered what Derek meant. "I guess you're right. One blue popsicle, coming up!" She opened the freezer and found the box. Just then, the phone rang.

  “I’ll get it!" cried Todd.

  "No, I will!" shouted Derek.

  "You're both wrong," said Stacey. "I'll get

  it." When we're baby-sitting, we try to be the ones to answer the phone, so we can take a message, if necessary, and also so little kids don't tell strangers that "mommy and daddy aren't home."

  "Hello?" Stacey said, panting a little. She'd had to race the boys to the phone. "Oh, hi, Byron. Sure, he's right here. Hold on." She handed the phone to Derek.

  "I knew it was for me," said Derek. He put the phone to his ear. "Hi, what's up?" He listened for a minute. Then he turned to Stacey. "Can those guys come over?"

  "Which guys?" asked Stacey, teasingly. "Donatello and Michelangelo and Raphael and Leonardo?"

  Derek rolled his eyes. "Stacey! You know who I mean. Byron and Jordan and Adam and Nicky. Can they come?"

  Stacey hesitated. If the Pike boys came over, she'd be in charge of six kids altogether.

  "We're just going to hang out in my room," Derek said. "I promise we won't get rowdy." He gave Stacey his most adorable Waldo-type look.

  "Oh, okay," said Stacey.

  "Yea!" yelled Todd, throwing his hands in the air. His blue Popside flew across the kitchen.

  "Come on over,” said Derek into the phone. He ducked as the Popsicle flew by him. "And don't forget to bring you-know-what." Then he hung up and grinned at Todd.

  Stacey picked up Todd's Popsicle and rinsed it off. "Here you go," she said, giving it back to him. "Derek, why don't you finish your cereal before they get here?" She was curious about what "you-know-what" might be, but she knew better than to ask directly. She was already fairly certain that the reason Derek and Todd hadn't been interested in any of the activities she'd mentioned was because they'd had some sort of secret plans with the Pike boys. She .decided to wait and see what happened.

  Derek had just taken the last bite of his cereal when the doorbell rang. "They're here!" he said. He jumped up and ran for the door.

  "Hold on," said Stacey. "I'll answer the door." She knew the Pikes were ringing the bell; she also knew it wasn't a good policy to let kids answer the door. When she reached the door, with Derek and Todd close behind her, she checked out the side window first. She couldn't see anybody. Our club has had some scary times with people who ring doorbells and then disappear. Then the bell rang again, Stacey looked more closely, and there

  stood the Pike boys. She opened the door. "Come on in, guys," she said. "How are you?"

  "Fine," mumbled Jordan, squeezing past her. He seemed to be hiding something under his jacket.

  "Fine," echoed Byron, Adam, and Nicky.

  "See you!" said Derek, as all six boys took off for his room.

  Stacey shrugged. She decided to let them enjoy being mysterious, as long as they played quietly. She figured she'd check on them every once in a while, just to make sure they weren't burning down the house. Meanwhile, she could sit on the couch and look through some of the extremely cool-looking fashion magazines that were arranged on the coffee table. We don't often get to take it easy during a baby-sitting job, and Stacey was only too happy to take advantage of the situation.

  Stacey had relaxed for about five minutes when she heard the door to Derek's bedroom open and close. A second later, she saw Nicky tiptoe into the kitchen, holding a slip of paper. Then she heard him lift the phone off its hook and speak in a voice so low she couldn't hear what he was saying. He didn't talk long. After he'd hung up, he began to tiptoe back to Derek's room.

  "Nicky," called Stacey. "Are you guys making phony phone calls?"

  "No!" said Nicky. "No way. We've gotten into trouble for doing that before. We'll never do it again."

  He sounded so positive that Stacey believed him. She also knew that if they were making phony calls, the other boys would be gathered around the phone while Nicky spoke, giggling and acting silly. (You might wonder how Stacey knew this. / wondered, when she told me about her day at the Masterses'. She wouldn't tell me, but I had a feeling she knew from experience.)

  Anyway, Stacey let Nicky go back to Derek's room. And five minutes later, guess what happened? The same tiptoe-to-the-phone routine, only this time Adam .was carrying the slip of paper and making the call. Stacey didn't even bother to question him, but she resolved to keep a closer eye on the boys.

  She waited for a few minutes after Adam had returned to Derek's room. Then she snuck toward the closed door. She heard whispered conversation, but couldn't make out any actual words. However, the boys sounded awfully excited.

  Stacey tapped on the door, and then opened it before they could answer. "Just a minute!"

  Derek called out, but he was too late. Stacey saw Jordan shove something under the bed.

  "What was that?" she asked. "Listen, you guys, I need to know what you're up to. I wouldn't want you to get yourselves in trouble." She bent down and looked under the bed. "A phone book?" she asked.

  "Yeah!" said Adam. "It's just a phone book, that's all."

  Stacey pulled it out. "This says ‘Pike' on it."

  "That's because it's ours," Jordan told her. "I brought it over."

  Stacey remembered the bulge beneath his jacket. "What for?" she asked.

  "Just to get some phone numbers," muttered Derek.

  "For Becca and Charlotte!" cried Todd. Then he put his hand over his mouth. "Uh-oh," he said, looking guilty.

  "That's all right, Todd," said Derek. "They're coming over, okay?" he asked Stacey.

  "Well, it sounds as if you've already invited them, so I guess it's okay," said Stacey. "But next time you want to have a party, maybe you should let me — and your mom — know in advance."

  Becca and Charlotte showed up soon after, and the kids moved into the rec room. Stacey tried to relax on the couch again, but the giggles and shrieks she kept hearing made her nervous. Finally, she pulled Todd out of the room and wormed the truth out of him.

  "Lessons," explained Todd, after Stacey had grilled him for ten minutes. "Derek's going to give us kissing lessons, and Becca and Charlotte are going to help him dem — dem — "

  "Demonstrate?" suggested Stacey. She wanted to laugh, but she realized she should control the urge. "I'm not sure that's such a great idea." She wondered what would happen if the kids' parents found out. She knew some adults might not think the situation was as hilarious as she did.

  Stacey marched back to the rec room with Todd in tow, and broke up the party. "Okay, guys," she said. "And girls. Enough of this for today, I think. How about a game of Crazy Olympics instead?" She knew that the Pike boys, especially, could never resist that game, which they'd kind of invented. It involved coming up with all kinds of wild events, like the Pillow Jump, and then awarding prizes to whomever did them best.

  The kids seemed to accept the change of plans. And Stacey couldn't help noticing that Derek looked especially happy — and relieved.

  Ch
apter 8.

  I couldn't believe it. It boggled my mind. It flipped me out just to think about it. I never expected this to happen, not in a million years. Not to Janine.

  Janine got grounded.

  Perfect Janine, obedient Janine, Janine the good sister.

  I knew I was wrong to feel happy about it. I tried not to show how I felt. But part of me was bursting with pure, wild joy. For once, I wasn't in trouble. For once, I could be the good sister.

  Let me start from the beginning, since it will be a pleasure to tell the whole story again!

  On Thursday morning, I was in the kitchen eating cinnamon toast. I was dressed and ready to go to school, so for once I could take my time eating breakfast. (I was wearing a royal-blue sweatshirt dress I'd just bought the day before.) I was talking to Mom about my

  plans for the weekend (sitting for the Perkins girls Friday night, going to the movies with Stacey and Dawn on Saturday night), and Mom was washing the dishes.

  Then Janine came downstairs, wearing one of her new outfits — a gray wool skirt (one of her old ones, which she'd hemmed to a much more interesting length), a pink oxford shirt, which she must have bought recently, and my red sweater, which she seemed to have claimed as her own. Her fingernails were still orange. The pink and the red and the orange clashed just a little .bit, but I didn't want to upset Janine by mentioning it. I had decided to encourage her fashion-wise and not pick on the little things.

  When she sat down at the table, I could see that she'd also done her best with putting on some makeup. Her mascara was a little clumpy, and her blush wasn't blended as well as it could be, but overall she looked good. I gave her the thumbs-up sign, and she smiled.

  She reached for a piece of toast and started to butter it. "Good morning, Mom," she said.

  "Morning, hon," said my mother, who was still washing dishes.

  "Where's Dad?" asked Janine.

  "Oh, he had to leave early this morning."

  Janine took a bite of toast and looked at Mom's back. "I won't be home for dinner to-

  night," she said quickly. "I'm going to be studying late again. I'll be at the college library, with a friend."