“But what about Matt?” Haley asked when I hung up and told the Braddocks the idea for the play. “What part can he play?”
Matt is deaf. Technically, he can speak, but since he’s never heard a human voice, it’s hard for him to reproduce the sound of it. Mostly, he prefers to communicate through sign language. “There will be plenty of nonspeaking parts,” I told Haley. “Or Matt can sign, and you’ll translate. It’ll be fine.”
The Braddock kids and I hurried to the Barretts’. When we arrived the living room was a whirlwind of construction paper, tape, and scissors.
“We’re making costumes!” Suzi announced brightly. She held up a cone-shaped hat made of red construction paper with a roll of cotton glued around the brim. She plunked the hat on Marnie’s head, bending her small ears over. “She looks just like Dopey in the movie!” Suzi cried in delight.
As Suzi spoke, Haley’s hands moved rapidly as she signed to Matt everything that was being said.
“The Walt Disney movie isn’t the only version of Snow White,” Mary Anne told the kids.
“Huh?” Buddy said. “What do you mean?”
“The story has been around for a long time. The Brothers Grimm wrote down a lot of fairy tales, but they didn’t make them all up. Some had been around for so long that no one knows who made them up,” Mary Anne explained.
“Do you mean Walt Disney stole the story!?” Suzi asked, horrified by the idea.
“No,” Mary Anne answered, laughing. “He just took the story and told it in his own way. Really, the writers who worked for him did that, I guess.”
“Hey, that’s what we’re doing!” Buddy said happily.
“That’s right,” I agreed. “What should we do?” I asked Mary Anne.
“We need you guys to help us make hats and help us come up with a script,” said Mary Anne as she rolled another pointy red cone and glued its edges. “So far this is what we’ve come up with. The witch is a big polluter who wants to destroy the planet. She hates Snow White because she’s in favor of a clean earth — which kind of fits. You know, keeping the snow white, and all.”
“Don’t eat the yellow snow!” Buddy cried out and then burst into giggles. Matt laughed, too, when Haley signed the joke for him.
Mary Anne worked hard not to smile. “Well, that is the basic idea, I suppose. Anyway, in our version, the witch can’t stand Snow White for helping the planet, so she tries to get rid of her, just like in the real story.”
“So she drops her in a polluted swamp!” Suzi put in.
“And she’s attacked by a weird mutant two-headed monster,” added Buddy. “But Swamp Thing saves her because he’s a good guy even though he’s gross-looking.”
“Can I be Swamp Thing?” Haley asked.
“Sure,” Buddy agreed.
“Anyway,” Mary Anne went on as Matt, Haley, and I began rolling red hats along with her, “Swamp Thing sends her to a forest where Snow White meets the Seven Zorbs.”
“The what?” I asked.
“Zorbs!” Suzi said impatiently.
“We’re calling the dwarfs ‘zorbs’ since Suzi prefers it that way,” Mary Anne explained.
“Zorbs is funny,” said Haley. “I like that.”
“The zorbs are planeteers,” Buddy said. “They’re like a secret division. And when Snow White gets the radioactive apple they go out looking for Captain Planet, which is me.”
“It sounds like you have it all figured out,” I said. “You don’t need any help.”
“Yes, we do,” Mary Anne insisted. “We have to write down what all the characters are actually going to say. So, let’s start at the beginning. We can open with the witch in her royal chamber talking to her magic mirror. Now what should she say?”
“What a fine day.” Haley volunteered the first line in a crackly, witchy voice as she signed what she was saying for Matt. “I think I’ll pollute it. But first let me check up on that nerdy Snow White.”
With her usual secretarial efficiency, Mary Anne wrote down everyone’s ideas and little by little (with a lot of laughs and some bickering) our play was written. (And our zorb hats were made, too.)
“Now all we need is a camera and we’re ready to go,” said Buddy.
“Not exactly,” Mary Anne disagreed. “We need more costumes, and props.”
“I know!” I said excitedly. “Why don’t we check out the party store downtown. They always have the weirdest, neatest stuff.”
“Do they have radioactive apples?” Buddy asked.
“No, but I saw a whole bunch of wax fruit there,” I recalled.
“They have lots of costume stuff for Halloween, too,” Haley said. “I saw these long, claw nails. They’d be great for the witch. And Swamp Thing needs lots of green stuff hanging off him.”
“All that costs money,” Mary Anne reminded them.
“Do you think we could use some of the BSC money?” I asked her. “I mean, this is a club project.”
“We’ll have to ask Stacey,” replied Mary Anne.
“I bet she’ll say yes,” I said, more excited than ever now. This was going to be great!
“Mallory!” I cried in frustration. “What is the matter with you? Either go to a doctor or get better!”
We were standing in the front hall of her house while everyone else waited for us outside. Perhaps I should have been less impatient, but here it was Saturday and we were all set to go to the party store just the way we’d planned, and Mal was backing out on me. She said she was (I’m sure you can guess) too tired!
“My dad will still drive you guys like he promised,” she said sheepishly. “Honest, though, if I go I’ll just be dragging around. I won’t be any help.”
“Too bad you’re not putting on Sleeping Beauty,” said Vanessa as she came down the stairs. (She had braided the short ends of the hair I’d cut and tied them with a rainbow bow.) “We know who would get the lead role.”
“Ha, ha, ha,” said Mallory, unamused.
“I suppose she can play Sleepy, though,” Vanessa went on.
“Only the kids are going to be in the video,” I told Vanessa.
“Too bad,” Vanessa teased. “Mallory is a natural for the part. Don’t you think?”
“You’re a riot, Vanessa,” Mal said. “Listen, would you do me a favor?”
“What?” Vanessa asked.
“Would you go with Jessi and Mary Anne, instead of me? You know, just to keep an eye on Margo and Nicky.”
“Which is what you were supposed to do, Mallory,” I reminded her.
“It’s not my fault!” Mal insisted.
I was torn. Normally I’m sympathetic when someone is sick. But I couldn’t tell if she was really sick. There was nothing sick about her except this constant tiredness, which was starting to sound like an excuse to do nothing but lie around. Only, that wasn’t like Mallory. She isn’t a lie-around person.
Mary Anne stuck her head in the door. “Almost ready?” she asked.
“Mallory isn’t coming,” I told her.
“You’d better see a doctor,” Mary Anne said. She frowned thoughtfully. “Do you think we should cancel the trip? We have a lot of kids to keep track of.”
“Vanessa will watch Margo and Nicky,” Mallory said, volunteering her sister. “Okay, Vanessa?”
“I guess so,” said Vanessa.
Vanessa is at a funny age. At nine, she still needs a baby-sitter. But she’s mature enough to be a big help.
“I suppose if Vanessa helps, it will be all right,” Mary Anne agreed.
“Come on, Vanessa. See you, Mal. Get some sleep!” I said as we dashed out the front door. In the driveway, Mr. Pike was warming up one of the family station wagons. It wasn’t freezing, but today was probably the coldest day we’d had so far, around forty degrees. Suzi Barrett and Margo Pike were jumping up and down to keep warm. Nicky Pike and Buddy Barrett were solving the same problem by chasing each other madly around the front lawn. We’d agreed to let the kids come with us to the party stor
e since they were so excited about the video.
“All aboard the Pike Express,” Mr. Pike called to us. We loaded into the car and were soon heading toward downtown Stoneybrook. “I’ll be back in an hour,” said Mr. Pike as we pulled up in front of Pembroke’s Party Store.
“That sounds good,” Mary Anne replied as she helped the kids out of the car.
“You mind Mary Anne and Jessi,” Mr. Pike told Margo and Nicky.
“And me,” said Vanessa.
“And mind Vanessa, too,” added Mr. Pike.
As he pulled away from the curb, we split the kids into two groups. We wanted Vanessa, Margo, and Nicky in one group, but Buddy and Nicky wanted to stay together. So we put Buddy and Nicky in one group and Suzi, Margo, and Vanessa in the other. “Then how am I going to watch Nicky?” Vanessa protested.
“Just keep an eye on Margo,” Mary Anne told her. “And Suzi.”
I took the girls and Mary Anne took the boys. We were carrying thirty dollars which Stacey had given us from the club treasury. Mary Anne opened her wallet and handed me fifteen. “You pick out fifteen dollars worth of stuff and so will I,” she said. “But let’s meet up before we pay just in case we picked out the same things.”
“Good idea,” I agreed.
Pembroke’s is almost as big as a supermarket. It’s loaded with the greatest oddball stuff. In one aisle alone, we found green crêpe paper to wrap around Swamp Thing; a large red apple made of plastic (it was actually a bank, but no one would notice that); pointy rubber ears for the “zorbs”; and a blow-up palm tree. (We had decided that the zorbs lived in a rain forest.)
Each of the kids had also brought a little money to buy some personal costume item. Vanessa wanted to play the woodsman, and she found a peaked brown felt hat with a feather in it. Suzi picked out a black witch’s hat. (Since it was so near Halloween, the store was full of them.) Margo was going to play Sneezy and she found a big red nose.
There was endless stuff to look at. The girls nearly lost their minds when they reached the party favor aisle. Besides all the little knick-knacks, there were trolls of every description. Apparently Vanessa is a big lover of trolls because she couldn’t take her eyes off them. She had to examine the costumes the troll dolls wore, oohing, ahhing, and giggling over each one.
Vanessa was so entranced that she wasn’t watching Margo. I was, though. And that’s when I saw her do something I couldn’t quite believe. With a furtive glance in both directions, she plucked a small ring with a troll on it from the shelf and stuffed it into the front pocket of her jeans.
I was stunned.
I didn’t know what to do. Margo was such a sweet kid, I couldn’t believe she had just shoplifted. In fact, I refused to believe it. I decided she’d just put the ring in her pocket for safekeeping until she was at the register to pay for it. Maybe it was a gift for Vanessa and she didn’t want her sister to see it. The gift idea made sense to me, so I didn’t say anything to her. I decided to wait and see what happened at the register.
I hurried the girls out of the party favor aisle and into the next one. There we hit the jackpot — everything anyone could need for various theme parties. Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs was one of the themes. We found a plastic Snow White wig, cardboard pictures of the Disney woodland animals, and a plastic woodsman’s axe. When we were midway down the aisle, Mary Anne and the boys came walking up toward us.
“Look what I found!” Buddy Barrett shouted as he ran toward us, holding a box over his head. “It’s a Captain Planet costume.”
“That’s great!” I said, taking the box from him. I winced when I saw the price tag. Ten dollars! “I don’t know if we can afford this much for one costume,” I said.
“No problem,” Buddy replied. “Mom gave Suzi and me money to buy Halloween costumes for ourselves. I can be Captain Planet for Halloween.”
“Good thinking,” I said. “What are you going to be?” I asked Suzi.
“Since I have the hat, I might as well be a witch,” Suzi answered. “But I want those scary fingernails Haley told us about.”
While we were off in search of the fingernails, I kept a sharp eye on Margo. She didn’t take another thing, though, at least nothing I spotted.
Not much later, we all met at the cash register and checked our stuff through. Mary Anne and the boys had done well, too. They found plastic whistles for the zorbs, plastic rings for the zorb planeteers to use as power rings (when they touch their rings together, Captain Planet shows up) and a blue nylon cloak for Snow White.
Mary Anne checked her watch. “I can’t believe we’ve been here for an hour already!” she cried. “The time flew!”
But the time dragged as we stood on line to pay for our stuff. Mary Anne and I were very aware that Mr. Pike was now outside in the car waiting for us and we didn’t want him to have to wait too long. And it was hard for the kids to wait. They kept wandering off to look at things and we kept having to call them back.
Finally, it was our turn at the register. We nearly drove the cashier crazy as we sorted through our purchases trying to keep straight who was paying for what.
Not until everything was paid for and we were on our way out did I realize Margo hadn’t paid for anything. So much for my gift theory.
I watched, feeling helpless, as she walked out of the store with the ring in her pocket. It wasn’t as if the ring cost a fortune, but still, stealing is stealing and it’s never all right. I didn’t want to confront Margo in front of everyone, and Mr. Pike was waiting with the car running. I had no opportunity to say anything to her, so I kept my mouth shut — for the time being, anyway.
My moment came once we were back at the Pikes’ house. Margo and I were the last ones out of the car. “Can I talk to you a minute, Margo?” I asked, laying my hand on her shoulder.
“Okay,” she said. From my troubled expression, she seemed to know this was serious. “What’s wrong?”
I waited until I was sure everyone was in the house. “Margo, I saw you take that ring from the store.”
“What ring?”
“Margo,” I said firmly. She knew I wasn’t accepting her lie, because she hung her head and wouldn’t look at me. “Listen, Margo, you’re not a baby. Seven is old enough to know that stealing is wrong.”
“Are you going to tell my parents?” she mumbled, still not looking at me.
“Not if you tell them first,” I said, trying not to sound too harsh. “Why don’t you tell them what you did. Then I won’t have to tell them.”
Margo looked up at me with sad, wide eyes. “All right. I’ll tell them.”
“Good for you,” I said. “You’ll feel better once you talk to them.”
We went into the house and joined the others. Mrs. Pike was looking at the purchases that the kids were eagerly showing her. “Hi, where’s Mal?” I said.
“She’s upstairs,” Mrs. Pike replied as she tried on the witch’s fingernails.
Mary Anne and I ran upstairs and knocked on Mal’s door. “Come in,” she said listlessly.
Mallory was lying across her bed, paging through a book of Grimms’ fairy tales. “I thought I could find some stuff that’s not in the Disney version of Snow White,” she said. “Those Grimm brothers had the right name, all right. They are grim. Their versions of the fairy tales are much creepier than the Disney versions.”
“The Disney movies are scary enough for me,” said Mary Anne, sitting on the end of Mal’s bed.
“How are you feeling?” I asked Mallory.
She shrugged. “You know.”
Mary Anne left because she had to walk the Barrett kids home. When Mallory and I were alone I was tempted to tell her about Margo, but I decided against it. I’d told Margo I wouldn’t tell her parents, and in some way it seemed to me that my promise meant I wouldn’t tell anyone. Usually I don’t keep things from Mallory, so not telling her this felt strange. But telling her would have been wrong, too. I was stuck with an uncomfortable feeling I didn’t like at all. I just praye
d Margo really would tell her parents.
Last week everything had seemed so great. Wendy was in the club, and we were working on a great project — Dawn’s video. This week was turning out to be a totally different story.
Things started going wrong at the Monday club meeting. For starters, I had the sinking feeling that Margo hadn’t said anything to her parents about her shoplifting. I was sure Mallory would have mentioned it to me if Margo had confessed. Mal might even have been annoyed with me for not saying anything to her, but she would have said something about it.
Instead she just draped her arm across the end of Claudia’s bed and rested her head on it. It was only 5:25 and from the look of her, I had serious doubts as to whether or not she could stay awake for the five minutes until the meeting began.
What was I going to do about Margo? I couldn’t just let the problem go. That wouldn’t have been right. This was very puzzling and upsetting.
I didn’t have more than six minutes to worry about Margo, though. That was because at 5:31 I began worrying about something else. Wendy! She hadn’t shown up for the meeting yet. Of course, she might walk in any minute, but I thought I’d made it clear how important punctuality was. This was the third time that she’d been late.
At 5:32, the phone began ringing nonstop just as it had during the last several meetings. The first job to come in was one Wendy would have been offered. In fact, she was the only one who could take it.
“What’s with Wendy?” Kristy asked me. “Where is she?”
“I don’t know,” I had to admit. “She was in school today so I know she’s not sick.”
“She should have called,” Kristy said, clearly annoyed.
What could I say? Even though I wasn’t late, I felt kind of responsible for Wendy’s lateness. “Maybe she had a baby-sitting job that ran over,” I suggested.
Mary Anne checked the record book. “No, she isn’t scheduled for a job today,” she reported.
Jessi and the Bad Baby-Sitter Page 5
