"BSC034 - Mary Anne and Too Many Boys - Martin, Ann M" - читать интересную книгу автора (Martin Ann M)

"Well, we can either walk over to the arcade, or we can save that for another day and head to Ч "I started to say.
"Ice-Cream Palace!" Claire and Margo yelled.
"Ice-Cream Palace!" Vanessa said, jabbing the air with her fist like a drum major.
"Ice-Cream Palace then," Mal said authoritatively.
I'm not really sure if Ice-Cream Palace has the best ice cream in the world, but it certainly seems that way. Maybe it's just because they have flavors you can't find in Stoneybrook. Sometimes they go a little too far trying to be different. (Would you really want to eat something called Banana Bubble-Gum?) But most of their stuff is great.
It always takes the younger kids forever to make up their minds, so we hung over the counter for ages. I decided on two scoops of Rocky Road Delight, since it has all my favorite things Ч chocolate, marshmallow, and peanuts. Mal chose a strawberry sundae right away. But Margo, Vanessa, and Claire hemmed and hawed for about ten minutes
before they could say what they wanted Ч a chocolate soda for Claire, and hot-fudge sundaes for Margo and Vanessa.
Meanwhile, I saw a cute boy behind the counter eyeing either Mal or Vanessa, sneaking a look every now and then as he put together my cone. He was about twelve, with dark eyes and curly black hair, and I noticed that Vanessa was eyeing him back. At least I think she was, although Vanessa has been acting so spacey lately, it's hard to know what she's up to. Sometimes her eyes get this hazy, unfocused look, and she's not really watching anything Ч she's just writing poetry in her head.
Later, when he leaned across the counter to hand Claire her chocolate soda, I saw that his name tag read "Chris."
"Yummy," Claire said, reaching for the soda. Then it happened. One moment she was clutching the soda in two hands and the next moment she was swimming in chocolate.
"Oh, no," she moaned, looking at her shorts and T-shirt.
"Don't worry," Mal said, reaching for a roll of paper towels. "It will come off with a little cold Ч "
She never got to say "water," because at
that second, Chris reached for the paper towels, and he and Mal bumped heads. It was like a scene out of a Three Stooges movie.
"Gosh, I'm sorry," Chris blurted out, just as Mal started apologizing.
"Wa-a-a-a-ah!" A long wail from Claire got everyone's attention. "I want another soda," she sobbed.
"Don't worry, you'll get one right away," I said, trying to soothe her: Chris went back to filling our order while Mal and I mopped up Claire. Finally, everyone had been served, and after passing out extra napkins, I started on my ice cream.
I had only taken two bites when another disaster happened. Chris was adding extra whipped cream to Mal's strawberry sundae when he looked over his shoulder at us. His timing couldn't have been worse. The whipped-cream machine went crazy! Instead of spurting out whipped cream in neat little puffs, it blasted out clumps of cream the size of tennis balls. And it wouldn't stop.
"Oh, no!" he yelled, looking desperately around the counter for a towel. By this time, the sundae Ч dish and all Ч had turned into a giant white blob. There was whipped cream all over the counter, and a pool of whipped
cream was sliding down to the floor.
"Turn it off! Pull the plug out of the wall!" someone yelled. Chris looked blankly toward the wall socket and then sprang to life. He yanked the plug just as another torrent of whipped cream buried the napkin holder.
"Wow, I don't know how that happened/' he said, looking shaken. Margo and Vanessa were giggling, and Claire was laughing hysterically. Mallory looked mortified, though.
"That's okay," I said grimly, wishing we had never come into Ice-Cream Palace.
We waited while Chris made another sundae, and I asked him to make it a take-out. (I had already decided not to sit there a minute longer than I had to.) I was drumming my fingers on the counter when I noticed that Vanessa looked very upset.
"What's the matter?" I asked her. "That wasn't your fault."
"I know," she said in a quavery voice. I could tell that she was very close to tears.
What was going on? Why would Vanessa think she was responsible for all the problems Chris was having? I didn't have time to think about it, because people were staring at us, and I wanted to get outside as quickly as possible. The minute Mal got her sundae, I slid
off the stool and we herded Claire, Margo, and Vanessa toward the door. I left my dish of Rocky Road melting on the counter, but I didn't care. For some reason, I had completely lost my taste for ice cream.
Chapter 6.
It's times like these that make you realize how important the BSC notebook is. The "notebook" is different from the record book, in case you've forgotten. All of us are responsible for writing up every single baby-sitting job we go on. Then, once a week, we're supposed to read about the jobs in the notebook. It was Kristy's idea, and even though we complain about it, it's really very helpful. We can find out if the kids we sit for are having problems the rest of us should know about, and we can learn how to handle sticky situations (such as Kristy's problems with Jackie Rodowsky). Writing in the notebook is one of the few rules in the BSC.
Kristy's day with the Rodowsky boys started out innocently enough. (Of course, even hurricanes and flash floods start out small.) Kristy was happy to take the job, because things were getting pretty boring in Stoneybrook, and Mrs. Rodowsky offered her a whole day's work. How could she know that a day at the community pool would turn into a scene from a baby-sitting horror movie?
"Are you sure you have everything?" Mrs. Rodowsky asked. She was double-parked at the entrance to the pool, while Kristy and the boys piled out of the car. The Rodowsky boys
are Archie (age four), Jackie (age seven), and Shea (age nine). All three boys have flaming red hair and plenty of freckles.
Kristy did a quick check and nodded. The kids were armed with towels, suntan lotion, and lunch money.
"We don't have Hilda," Archie complained. Hilda was a lime-green float with a head like the Loch Ness monster.
"You know we can't bring Hilda to the pool," Kristy explained. "They don't allow floats or rafts because they take up too much room."
"Floats are for babies," Shea said firmly.
"They are not!" Archie's freckles stood out on his pale skin when he was angry.
Shea shrugged and decided it wasn't worth continuing the argument. Who wanted to fight when a day at the pool stretched ahead of them?
The pool complex is much bigger than it looks from the outside. There are actually three pools Ч an Olympic-sized swimming pool, a wading pool, and a diving pool Ч plus a playground and snack bar. A first-aid station is off to one side, right next to the bathroom and showers.
"I'm starving!" Jackie announced. "Can I
buy one of those big chocolate chip cookies?" It was ten-thirty in the morning, and they had just walked through the gates.
"You're hungry already?" Kristy said doubtfully.
"Yes." Jackie rubbed his stomach as if he hadn't eaten in days.
"I guess so." Even as she said the words, Kristy felt a little tingle of dread go through her. Something will go wrong, she thought. Something always goes wrong when Jackie is involved. She settled herself on a towel, watching as Jackie headed for the snack bar. So far, so good. Archie and Shea were playing in the shallow end of the pool, right next to her, so that was no problem. But Jackie? She just couldn't shake the nagging feeling that something was about to happen.
A few minutes later, Jackie headed back, carefully unwrapping his cookie. It looked crumbly and delicious, the size of a small dinner plate.
"Look what I've got," he called happily to his brothers.
"Hey, gimme a bite!" Archie yelled.
"No way, Jose." Jackie stood at the edge of the pool, waving the cookie playfully in front of Archie's nose. Archie made a grab for the
cookie, Jackie stepped back, and then Ч the cookie fell into the pool!