Sea City, Here We Come!

  Contents

  Cover

  Title Page

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Also Available

  Copyright

  “Sweet,” Claudia Kishi said. “With a mild crunch and kind of a nutty aftertaste.”

  Jessi Ramsey nodded. “It gets nice and crumbly in your mouth. But it doesn’t have the same … burst of flavor.”

  “The ingredients are definitely inferior,” Logan Bruno added.

  We sat, chewing thoughtfully, saying nothing. We looked like nine cows in a pasture.

  “Okay, let’s vote,” Claudia said. “All those in favor of Sample A, raise your hands…. Sample B?”

  No, we were not having some gourmet food sampling. It was minutes before our Friday Baby-sitters Club meeting, and Claudia was conducting an End-of-the-Season Junk Food Blind Taste-Off. We were to decide which tasted better, Heath Bars or Skor Bars. She had bought several of each and removed the wrappers so we wouldn’t know which we were eating.

  Strange, huh? That’s Claudia. She’s the BSC’s resident junk food addict. Her bedroom (our official headquarters) is crammed full of candy, chips, and pretzels. And it’s all well hidden, because her parents are firm believers in Good Nutrition. (They’re also believers in Fine Literature, which is why Claudia has also tucked her Nancy Drew books in among her socks and underwear.)

  Claud is a talented artist, sculptor, and jewelry-maker. Mr. and Mrs. Kishi approve of those things, so Claud keeps her supplies in full view. Which is how she prevents her parents from finding her hidden stuff. She tells them no one’s allowed to touch her works in progress — which occupy every corner of the room.

  You can probably picture the place. It’s a pigsty. (Sorry, but it is.) Us BSCers put up with it, though. One, because we love Claud. And two, because she’s the only one of us who has her own private phone with a private phone number. (The phone is crucial to the success of our business.)

  Here’s how our club works. We meet Monday, Wednesday, and Friday afternoons from 5:30 to 6:00. During those times, we take calls from neighborhood parents who need sitters. We have seven members (nine, if you count our associates). So our clients know they can book a reliable, expert sitter with just one call.

  The BSC was an idea waiting to happen. (I read that expression somewhere, and it really fits.) Actually, it was my idea. I thought of it awhile ago when my mom was having trouble lining up a sitter. And it has really worked. Now we have tons of regular clients. We keep them, too, because we’re a well-run organization (also because we happen to be nice and charming and responsible).

  Like any company, we have officers and rules and record-keeping. I’m the president. I run the meetings and plan special events for our charges. I also try to think up new publicity ideas.

  In case you can’t tell, I’m kind of a loudmouth. (But lovable, too.) Here are some other things about me: I love sports and animals, and I live in casual clothes such as jeans and sweats. Some of the others (Stacey, for instance) tease me about my lack of “fashion.” I guess I could have lots of chic outfits if I wanted them (my stepdad is pretty rich), but I can’t be bothered. I’d probably just mess them up, anyway.

  My stepdad, by the way, is named Watson Brewer. My mom married him a year or so ago. (My father walked out on our family when I was seven. It’s something I don’t like to talk about.) Watson must really love kids, because when he married her, he got me and my three brothers in the bargain. (Charlie’s seventeen, Sam’s fifteen, and David Michael’s seven.) Plus he has two kids from a previous marriage, named Karen and Andrew, who live with him every other weekend. Then, to top it all off, Mom and Watson adopted a little Vietnamese girl named Emily Michelle (who just happens to be the cutest child in the universe). Then my grandmother moved in to help out. Now that’s a big family. Not that space is a problem. Our house is this huge old mansion way on the other side of town. It’s so far from Claud’s, Charlie has to drive me to and from BSC meetings.

  I used to live across the street from the Kishis, before Mom remarried. I’ve known Claudia since we were both in diapers. Even then she liked sweets. I still can’t figure out how she stays so thin. Yes, Claudia the junk food fanatic has a figure like a model. She also has perfect skin. She’s Japanese-American, with gorgeous black hair and almond-shaped eyes. And she can throw together the funkiest clothes and make them look good. That Friday, for instance, she was wearing ripped cut-off jeans held up by a frayed rope belt, a T-shirt with the collar torn off, huge white socks all bunched around the ankle, and old-fashioned black lace-up shoes. She looked totally cool.

  Claud is our vice-president (mainly because we hold our meetings in her room). Her duties are answering the phone during non-meeting times and destroying our diets.

  Although Claudia is one of my oldest friends, my best friend is Mary Anne Spier. People say we look a little alike (we’re both short and we both have shoulder-length brown hair), but we’re opposites in many ways. Mary Anne hates anything athletic. Also she’s the shyest, most sensitive person I ever met. She cries all the time. At movies, some people cry at the sad parts. Mary Anne can tell when the sad parts are coming, and starts crying in advance.

  To tell you the truth, I’d probably be sensitive, too, if my mom had died when I was a baby. Mary Anne was sent away to live with her grandparents until her dad recovered from the loss. Eventually Mr. Spier took her back and raised her by himself. He was extremely strict. Mary Anne had to dress in little-girl clothes and wear her hair in pigtails until seventh grade. But that’s all in the past now. Mr. Spier has loosened up a lot (I’ll tell you why later). Now Mary Anne definitely looks her age. And she happens to be the only member of the BSC who has a steady boyfriend! He’s Logan Bruno, an associate of the club, and he’s cute and athletic and funny and all those good things. He also has this cool Southern accent.

  Mary Anne is the BSC secretary. She handles our official record book — which includes our schedule of sitting jobs, an up-to-date client list, notes about our charges’ special needs, and a record of fees that each client pays. Mary Anne also keeps track of our own personal schedules (Jessi has regular ballet classes, Claudia takes art lessons, Mal goes to the orthodontist — stuff like that). She writes in this extra neat handwriting, and she’s never made a mistake. Talk about organized.

  “Okay, it’s official,” Claudia announced. “Sample A wins four to three, with two undecideds!” She turned over an index card that said SAMPLE A. The other side said SKOR.

  Oh, by the way, all nine members were there, including our associates. That’s unusual for us, but Claud’s room is big enough — just barely.

  “Hey, Skor scores!” Logan said.

  “Congratulations,” Stacey mumbled, chomping on some corn chips.

  You may have noticed that two people didn’t vote in the taste test. The “two abstentions” were for our health-food freaks, Stacey McGill and Dawn Schafer. Personally, I think health foods are for the birds (I mean that literally).
Poor Stacey is required to stay away from sweets. She has diabetes, which means her body can’t handle sugar. Because of that, she has to give herself (are you sitting down?) injections of something called insulin, every day.

  Stacey is our treasurer. She collects weekly dues, which we use to help pay Claudia’s phone bill, buy supplies, and contribute to my brother Charlie’s gas expenses. Stace is also our resident New Yawka (she doesn’t talk like one, though). She moved here last year when her dad’s company transferred him. Then she moved back to NYC when her dad’s company transferred him back. Then she moved here again, but without her father. Yes, unfortunately, it was the big D. Divorce. Now she and her mom live in Stoneybrook in a small house (Stacey’s an only child).

  Stacey’s really beautiful. And sophisticated (but not snobby). And smart (especially in math). Plus she is the BSC’s other fashion expert. She doesn’t look a thing like Claud, though. Stacey has long blonde hair and blue eyes. She also has a sleeker, fancier style of dressing. Store-bought sensational, not thrown-together sensational like Claud. At our Friday meeting she was wearing this white T-shirt that hung practically to her knees (Stacey calls it a “jersey tunic” or something), white stretch pants (“ribbed leggings”) to mid-calf, a tan leather belt over the T-shirt, and leather-strap sandals. Sometimes Stacey likes to wear all black, which seems kind of weird in the summer.

  While we’re on the subject of “weird,” let me tell you about our other health-food person, Dawn Schafer. (She’s not weird, just her taste in food.) Now, she doesn’t have diabetes, so she can eat candy. But she just doesn’t. She actually prefers health food. Stick a lump of tofu in front of her and she’s happy. I have actually seen her turn down a steaming hot slice of pepperoni pizza for an avocado-and-greens sandwich on pita bread. Honest.

  Needless to say, Dawn is a real individualist. She stands up for what she calls her “alternate life-style.” Maybe that’s why she’s our alternate officer. (Her job is to fill in whenever one of us is absent.)

  Dawn has amazing hair. It’s super long, and so blonde it’s almost white. She moved to Stoneybrook last year from Southern California. She also comes from a divorced family. Her dad and her younger brother still live near Los Angeles. Her mom is this beautiful, absent-minded woman who does things like leaving car keys in the linen closet.

  Now get this. Both Dawn’s mom and Mary Anne’s dad have remarried — to each other! That’s right. It turned out that they were sweethearts ages ago in Stoneybrook High School. They started dating again when Dawn and her mom moved here. So now free-spirited Sharon Schafer and stodgy Richard Spier live under the same roof — and so do Mary Anne and Dawn, as stepsisters.

  And that’s one reason Mr. Spier has loosened up. At least that’s my theory.

  Our junior officers, Jessica Ramsey and Mallory Pike, come from more typical families. (If there is such a thing as a typical family. Well, I take that back. The Pikes have eight kids, including triplets. Jessi comes from a more typical family, with one younger brother and one younger sister.)

  Jessi and Mal are both eleven years old and in sixth grade (the rest of us are thirteen-year-old eighth-graders). Their parents don’t let them stay out late during the week, so they mostly take afternoon jobs. That works out well, because it frees up the rest of us for later jobs. Jessi and Mal are great sitters — and best friends. Both of them are into books, and they both complain that their parents treat them like babies. And they’re both creative. Mal writes stories and illustrates them, and Jessi’s an excellent ballerina (she takes lessons in Stamford, the nearest big city to Stoneybrook).

  Physically they’re nothing like each other. Jessi’s black, and she has the long, long legs of a dancer. Mal is white, with red hair and normal legs. Mal also wears glasses and braces (the clear kind).

  That leaves our associate officers. I already mentioned Logan, so I’ll tell you a little about Shannon Kilbourne. She lives in my neighborhood and goes to Stoneybrook Day School, a private school. She has lots of interests, so she belongs to a million after-school clubs. Late this school year, her music teacher convinced Shannon that she could sing.

  Which she had started doing in Claud’s room, along with some hand gestures that I supposed were dance movements.

  “Yoo-ee-yoo-ee-yoo-ee-yoo-ee,” sang Shannon in a very soft voice.

  At this point, my eyes were on Claud’s digital clock. It read 5:29.

  “Uh, Shannon,” Claudia finally said. “Are you all right?”

  Click. 5:30. “This meeting will come to order!” I announced.

  Shannon stopped yoo-eeing.

  “Any new business?” I asked.

  No one answered for a moment. Then Claudia said, “I am dying to know what Shannon was doing.”

  Shannon smiled. “Just some vocal warm-ups. You know, for drama camp. Musical rehearsals start this week.”

  “Did they give you a part yet?” Jessi asked.

  “Ado Annie in Oklahoma,” Shannon replied.

  “You are so lucky,” Claudia said. “I mean, to be doing something fun this summer.”

  “You’re all going to Sea City, right?” Shannon asked. “That’s fun.”

  “Only Mal and Jessi and Stacey are going tomorrow,” Claudia said. “The rest of us are going next week with Mrs. Barrett’s fiancé, Franklin. And I have to suffer through five more days of summer school.”

  “Yuck,” Shannon said.

  “I still can’t believe I’m so stupid in math that I had to go. I mean, if you do terrible in art class, or music, they don’t make you go to summer school.” Claudia sighed. “I’m depressed. Time for some Twinkies.”

  She jumped off her bed and plunged into the closet. When she came out, she was holding a shoebox full of Twinkies.

  As we grabbed and ripped wrappers and munched, the phone rang.

  Claudia swallowed quickly and picked up the receiver. “Hello, Baby-sitters Club…. Oh, hi, Myriah! You want to talk to her? Okay.” She held the phone to Mary Anne.

  “Hi, Myriah,” said Mary Anne. “The last day is Friday…. No, it’ll be over in time. Don’t worry, I worked it out with Kristy. You can play. Okay, ’bye.”

  When she hung up, she turned to me and said, “Myriah was worried that Mini-Camp would conflict with the Krushers game.”

  “She’s always worried about that,” I replied. “It shows she’s interested.”

  “You should have seen her yesterday at Mini-Camp,” Mary Anne said. “She drew this box on the side of the barn and spent half the day trying to throw a ball inside the lines.”

  “The strike zone,” I informed her. (See what I mean about Mary Anne and sports?)

  “Uh-huh,” Mary Anne replied. “Only she brought Chewy that day and he kept chasing after the ball.” (Chewy is short for Chewbacca, the Perkinses’ Labrador retriever.)

  Dawn laughed. “Then we had ‘art corner,’ and Chewy decided to whack his tail into the paint bottles.”

  “We got the paint off the patio,” Mary Anne added. “But the grass looks sort of tie-dyed.”

  “It’s been fun, though,” Dawn said. “I’ll be so sad to see Mini-Camp end.”

  Mary Anne sighed. “Yeah …”

  I knew the waterworks were about to start. So I piped up, “Well, the Krushers are looking good. Only a week till our big showdown.”

  Our final opponents were going to be Bart’s Bashers. As usual. (They’re practically the only team we play.)

  The Krushers and the Bashers are sort-of homemade teams. I organized the Krushers with kids who were too young or too afraid to play Little League or T-Ball. I’m not sure why Bart Taylor organized his team. (Bart is a very important topic. Much more on him later.)

  “Too bad we have to miss it,” Mal said.

  “Yeah, it’ll be really tough to be at the beach,” I replied.

  “Soaking up rays,” Dawn said.

  “Swimming,” Claudia chimed in.

  “Meeting cute lifeguards,” Shannon added.

 
Mallory giggled. “Oooh, I can’t wait!”

  “Me neither!” Jessi squealed. “I am soooo excited. Your parents were so nice to let me come. I’m going to be the best mother’s helper ever.”

  Stacey sighed. “You know, I kind of wish I were going to the Pikes’ instead of the Barretts’. I’ll feel so strange being down there in a different house.”

  “Don’t worry, Stace,” Mary Anne said. “You’ll do great. Besides, you’ll be next door to us. All the kids’ll be playing together.”

  “I wonder if I’ll run into you-know-who,” Stacey said.

  Mary Anne looked down and cleared her throat. “You will.”

  “That guy’s going to be down there? The one who dumped Stacey?” I blurted out. (Tactful as usual.)

  “Yeah,” Mary Anne said. “I got this letter from Alex. He said Toby has a job as a mother’s helper.”

  Stacey rolled her eyes. “Oh, groan. The last person I want to see.”

  I glanced at Logan. He did not look happy when Mary Anne mentioned Alex. See, the last time Mary Anne was in Sea City, she and Alex became pretty friendly. It didn’t turn into anything serious, though, just a couple of casual dates. Mary Anne is the loyal type — and Logan is not the jealous type. Still, I could tell Alex wasn’t Logan’s favorite topic.

  The room had fallen silent. I thought fast. I knew Logan was working part-time at the Rosebud Cafe this summer. I also knew the Pikes had invited him to Sea City the next weekend. So I said, “I bet you’ll be happy to get away from your job for a couple of days.”

  Logan’s tense expression melted away. “Yeah,” he said, smiling at Mary Anne. “I can’t wait.”

  Mary Anne smiled back. “Me neither.”

  I, Kristy Thomas, had done my good deed for the day.

  Too bad I couldn’t make Stacey feel better.

  It was brutal.

  Going to summer school, I mean. Let’s face it, it’s bad enough just to have to go. For me it was especially embarrassing, because of my sister. Her name is Janine. I call her Janine the Genius. And she is one. Her I.Q. is high enough for two people. She can do math problems in her sleep. Janine was going to summer classes, too — but they were at Stoneybrook University, and she was taking them because she wanted to. (My parents, of course, think Janine can do no wrong.)