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Authors: Ann M. Martin

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BOOK: Hello, Mallory
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I knew she meant if I was good enough to be a part of the club, but I couldn't say so, and

I guess she couldn't, either. Not tactfully, anyway.

"What she means," Dawn spoke up, "is so we can get an idea of how much, um, how much . . ."

"How much experience you've had," Mary Anne finally filled in. She looked pleased with herself.

"Right," agreed Kristy, brightening. "And to find out how you handle certain situations. That kind of thing."

I nodded. "Well, I've been taking care of my brothers and sisters for years. I know how to change diapers and I know how to fix formulas. I've always —"

Ring, ring.

"I'll get it!" cried Kristy, Dawn, Mary Anne, and Claudia, all lunging for the phone.

Claudia reached it first.

I watched with interest. This was probably what a club meeting was really about.

"Good afternoon. Baby-sitters Club," said Claudia, sounding quite grown-up. "Mm-hmm. Mm-hmm. . . . Tuesday? I'll get right back to you. . . . Okay. 'Bye." Claudia hung up and turned to the rest of us. "Mrs. Perkins needs a sitter for Myriah and Gabbie next Thursday from three-thirty to five-thirty."

Mary Anne was thumbing through the re-

cord book. She opened to the appointment calendar. "Claudia, you're the only one free. Want the job?"

"Sure!" she said.

"Oh," Kristy broke in. "Mallory, why don't you go with her? It can be a trial job for you, so one of us can see how you do."

"Okay!" I replied happily.

Claudia called Mrs. Perkins back to tell her who'd be sitting.

"And that's pretty much what we do at the meetings," Kristy said to me. "Just take job calls like that one and assign sitters. Oh, and collect dues and discuss problems."

I nodded again. Suddenly I remembered something. "Oh! I almost forgot to tell you," I said, feeling proud. "On Saturday, I babysat for six of my brothers and sisters by myself."

"You did?" said Dawn, looking impressed.

"How come?" asked Kristy.

I explained about Nicky's accident.

Kristy's eyes narrowed. So did her lips as she set them in a straight line. "Mallory," she said coolly. "That accident shouldn't have happened. You were in charge of Nicky. You should have been watching him."

"But I —"

"We can't have accidents happening when we're on the job," Kristy went on. She looked

at the other girls and they nodded in agreement.

"Mallory," Dawn said gently, "we have to be really careful about who we accept in the club. We've had some trouble in the past — with sitters who weren't too reliable."

"But I am reliable," I said. "And I was watching Nicky. And I know everything about taking care of kids." I probably shouldn't have said that last sentence, but I was desperate. There was this sinking feeling in my stomach.

"Well, there's one way to find out about that," said Kristy, frowning thoughtfully. "We'll give you a test. Can you come back tomorrow to take it?"

"S-sure," I stammered. A test? 1 had to take a test? "What kind of test?" I asked.

"It'll be a ... surprise," said Kristy, and I knew she didn't have any baby-sitting test ready. She was going to have to make one up.

I must have looked awful, because Mary Anne changed the subject then. "Guess what," she said brightly. "A family moved into Sta-cey's old house."

"Really?" asked Claudia with interest.

Mary Anne nodded. "I passed by when the moving van was unloading."

"I can't imagine anybody but Stacey living in that house," said Claudia.

"I can't, either," said Mary Anne. "I didn't see them, only the moving men, but my dad told me it's a black family."

A black family! Maybe it was Jessica Ram-sey's. That would be interesting. But I was too nervous to feel excited about it. All 1 could think of was the test. A baby-sitting test. Would I pass it? Or would I blow my chances with the club forever?

Chapter 4.

The only good thing about taking the Babysitters Club test the next afternoon was that I didn't have to worry about what to wear to it. I threw on a pair of jeans, a sweat shirt that said I'D RATHER BE WRITING MY NOVEL, and a pair of sneakers. I figured I wouldn't look any better or worse than Kristy, and she was the president.

All day I was nervous, nervous, nervous. What kind of test would they give me? A real-life test like when you have to jump into a swimming pool and pull someone to the side? A written test? Or would they just sit there and ask me questions? I might do well on a written test, but I wasn't sure about the other kinds. I thought I'd be awfully scared. And who was going to give me the test? Kristy had said to go to club headquarters, which was Claudia's room. Would just Kristy and Claudia

be there? Would everybody be there? Ooh, I am such a worry wart.

I felt like a baby.

I was so keyed up that I left my house forty-five minutes before test-time, and it only takes ten minutes to walk to the Kishis'. Halfway there, I realized what I could do with the extra thirty-five minutes. I could walk by Stacey McGill's old house and look for the new family.

So I did.

And guess what. Sitting right on Stacey's front stoop was Jessica Ramsey with a younger girl and a baby boy!

Jessica saw me at the same time I saw her. We smiled. Then we waved. I hesitated. At last I walked across the lawn to the stoop.

"Hi," I said. "I'm Mallory Pike. . . . You probably know that. I mean, but I wasn't sure. You must have met an awful lot of kids yesterday and today."

"1 have. But I remember your name."

"I remember yours, too. Jessica. Jessica Ramsey."

"Right." Jessica grinned. "Call me Jessi, though."

"Okay. Hi, Jessi."

We laughed.

"I'm Becca," spoke up the other girl. Becca

looked like she was eight or nine years old. She was a younger version of Jessi, with those long legs and long eyelashes. "My real name is Rebecca, though," she told me. "See? Mama took the 'ca' off the end of Jessica's name and the 'Re' off the beginning of my name, and that's where our nicknames came from."

"Oh," I said. "I like that. I don't have a nickname. Not a real one, anyway. But sometimes people call me 'Mal.' " I looked at the little boy in Jessi's lap. He was chewing on a red plastic ring. "Who's that?" I asked.

Jessi turned the baby around so he was facing me. "This," she said fondly, "is Squirt. He's our brother."

"Squirt!" I couldn't help exclaiming.

"Well, his real name is John Philip Ramsey, Junior, but that seemed much too long for a kid. Besides, he was only five pounds, eight ounces when he was born."

"Oh," I said, understanding. "I get it. A little squirt."

"Right/' agreed Becca. "You're smart."

"How old is Squirt?" I asked.

Squirt looked up at me with gigantic brown eyes and drooled down his shirt.

"Fourteen months," Becca replied, even though I'd asked Jessi.

Jessi wiped Squirt's chin.

"And I'm eight and a half," Becca went on. "How old are you?"

"Eleven," I said. "Same as your sister." I checked my watch. Plenty of time before 1 had to take that dumb baby-sitting test.

Jessi moved over and I sat next to her and Squirt on the stoop, while Becca found a hula hoop and began whirling it around her waist and knees.

"When did you move in?" I asked Jessi.

"Saturday," she replied. "Three days ago. Feels like three years. The house is a huge mess." She paused. "Do you like jokes?"

"Sure," I replied.

"Okay. Listen to this one. A farmer is driving down a highway and he sees a truck by the side of the road. It's got a flat tire, and the driver, who is holding a penguin, looks really upset, so the farmer pulls up and says 'Can I help you?' And the driver says, 'Oh, yes, please. I'm taking this penguin to the zoo. It's right down the road. Could you take him there for me while I wait for the tow truck?' The farmer says, 'Sure/ takes the penguin, and drives off. The next day the driver is going down a street and he sees the farmer with the penguin. 'What are you doing?' he cries. 'You were supposed to take that penguin to the

zoo!' The farmer smiles. 'I did,' he answers, 'and he had so much fun that today I'm taking him to the circus!' "

I burst out laughing and so did Squirt.

"He didn't understand that, did he?" I asked, amazed.

"Nah," replied Jessi. "He just laughs when other people do. By the way, I think he likes you/Squirt was reaching out to me with chubby hands.

"Can I hold him?" I asked.

" 'Course." Jessi plopped Squirt in my lap, and he smiled and proudly blew spit bubbles. When he started to get wiggly, I set him on the lawn and Becca held his hands while he walked unsteadily around the yard.

"He's so close," said Jessi, watching her brother. "He'll be walking alone any day now."

Jessi's smile faded and she sat thoughtfully for awhile.

"So," I said. "Where'd you move from?"

"New Jersey. Oakley, New Jersey. My dad was offered a really great job here in Connecticut. That's how come we moved. I wish we were still in Oakley, though."

I nodded. "It must be hard to have to make new friends."

"Plus, we left all our relatives behind."

"Oh, wow."

"Yeah. Right on our street lived my grandma and grandpa, three aunts, two uncles, and my cousins Kara, Keisha, Sandy, Molly, Raun, Bill, and Isaac. Keisha was my cousin and my best friend. We even have the same birthday. September thirteenth. Hey, do you know how many stupids it takes to change a lightbulb?"

"No. How many?"

"Three. One to hold the lightbulb and two to turn his legs."

I burst out laughing again, and Squirt and Becca joined me.

"That is my most favorite joke," Becca informed me. "Jessi knows more jokes than anyone in the world."

"Well, not that many," said Jessi modestly.

"Do you want to be a comedienne or something when you grow up?" I asked.

"Oh, no way!" cried Jessi. "I'm going to be a ballet dancer."

I knew it. Those long legs of hers were a dead giveaway.

"I just went on toe," Jessi added proudly. "I've been dancing since I was four. You want to see my toe shoes?"

"Sure," I replied. I hesitated. "What are toe shoes?"

Jessi stood up. "Come on inside. I'll show

you. You can meet my mother, too. She'll be really happy to see you."

"She will?"

"Well, yeah. The neighbors haven't exactly dropped by to introduce themselves. We haven't met anybody around here yet."

"Oh. ..." I wasn't sure what to say to that.

"Be warned," added Jessi as she opened the front door. "The house really is a mess. It looks like the movers threw everything in the windows and then left in a hurry."

I giggled. I like people who can make me laugh.

"Mama?" Jessi called.

I followed her inside. I'd only been in Sta-cey's house a few times. Still, it was weird to see someone else's furniture in it. And Jessi wasn't kidding. The place did look like the movers had thrown everything in the windows and left in a hurry.

"I'm in the dining room," a voice answered Jessi.

Jessi led me through the messy living room and into the messy dining room.

"Mama," she said, "this is Mallory Pike. She's in some of my classes at school."

I stepped forward and held out my hand the way Mom and Dad have taught us to do when we meet new people.

For just a second, Mrs. Ramsey looked surprised. Then her face relaxed into a smile. "Nice to meet you, Mallory," she said.

"Call her Mal, Mama," Jessi said, glancing at me. "That's her nickname."

"Do you live nearby, Mal?" asked Mrs. Ramsey.

We don't exactly. I tried to explain where our street is.

"We're going upstairs, Mama," Jessi said a few minutes later. "I want to show Mal my toe shoes and my room."

"Good luck finding either one," called Mrs. Ramsey as Jessi and I ran upstairs.

Jessi's room was actually in pretty good shape. At least, her furniture was in place and her posters were on her walls. And while it didn't look as if she'd unpacked her suitcases yet, I noticed that the books on her shelf were neatly organized.

"Wow," I said, gazing around. "Besides ballet, I guess you like horses and horse stories."

"Any stories, actually."

"Oh, me, too!" I said. "I love to read. You know, we have a lot in common. I mean, the reading and the horses. I don't take ballet lessons, though."

"We both wear glasses," Jessi pointed out.

"Yeah, but you're not wearing them now."

"I only need them for reading."

"My mom won't let me get pierced ears," I said. "Will yours?"

"Nope. But — get this — I have to have braces."

I couldn't believe it. "Me, too!" I cried again. "Next year. And we're both the oldest in our families. Hey, do you like kids?"

"Definitely," replied Jessi. "I was just starting to baby-sit for my little cousins when we left Oakley."

"Too bad."

I was about to telljessi about the Baby-sitters Club and my test when she said, "What's your favorite horse story?"

"A Morgan for Melinda," I answered without even needing to think about it.

"Oh. I never heard of that. Mine is Impossible Charlie."

"I never heard of that. Let's trade," I suggested.

"Great!"

I looked at my watch then. "Oh! I have to leave!" I cried. I explained about the test in a rush as Jessi and I ran downstairs. "Sorry I have to go," I said, "but bring your horse book

to school tomorrow and I'll bring mine."

"Deal!" said Jessi happily. "You can see my toe shoes the next time you come over."

As I ran to the Kishis' house I felt as light as a bird. And I was full of confidence. Babysitting test? No sweat. I was ready for anything.

Chapter 5.

As I had said, I wasn't sure who was going to give me the baby-sitting test. Maybe just Kristy and Claudia, or even Claudia by herself. But when I stepped into Claudia's room, I found all four girls there. They were sitting around pretty much like they had been the day before, and they were dressed pretty much like they had been the day before, but they looked very serious.

BOOK: Hello, Mallory
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ads

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