"Martin, Ann M - Baby-sitters Club - Super Special 01 - Baby-sitters on Board!" - читать интересную книгу автора (Martin Ann M)

"Wake Dawn up, would you please, Claud? We're supposed to meet Mom and Watson and everyone for breakfast in half an hour."
Claudia had just stepped into the bathroom. I could hear water running. "I can't," she called. "You do it."
"Oh," I groaned.
"Never mind!" said Dawn. "I'm awake." She sat up quickly and hit her head on the springs of the top bunk. A pair of Claudia's shoes fell to the floor. Dawn frowned. "This room is a dump," she said.
"I don't think so," I retorted. And just to make her madder than she already was, I got up (without hitting my head) and swept two more pairs of Claudia's shoes off the bunk.
Thonk, thonk, thonk, thonk. They landed on the floor. I was doing it on purpose, and I knew it would make Dawn mad. It would serve her right for being such a neatnik.
Dawn stomped around, picked up all six shoes, and threw them back on the bed. Then she found the wrappers from two bags of M&Ms that Claudia and I had eaten the night before, and threw them into the trash can with such force that they almost bounced back out again.
I felt a little worried. Maybe I had gone too far with Dawn. Just in case, I decided to eat at Mom and Watson's table. And then I decided I needed to go someplace to cool off Ч literally. So I put on my bathing suit, grabbed a towel, my sunscreen, and this sports book
I was reading, and headed for the big pool on the Sun Deck.
I wanted to go swimming, but it was too soon after breakfast. Watson says that that business about waiting an hour before you go in the water after you've eaten is an old wives' tale. But I'd eaten two poached eggs, two English muffins, and four pieces of bacon, and drunk both tea and orange juice at breakfast, so I was on the full side and decided to wait anyway.
I plunked down on a lounge chair, spread on my coconut-scented sunscreen, and opened my book. I hadn't read more than a page when someone else plunked down on the chair next to me. I hoped it wasn't Dawn. Unless she was coming to apologize.
When no one said anything, though, I dared to glance over at the chair. Sitting in it was an old man wearing a blue Hawaiian-print shirt (kind of like one Stacey has) and green Hawaiian-print shorts. The shirt and shorts absolutely didn't match. They looked awful together. Just as bad was the man's faded blue golf cap Ч and the look on his face. The look was so grouchy that I quickly turned my head back to my book.
But right away I had to glance at him again. Wasn't he the man who had stopped Claudia and me the other day to ask us the time? I couldn't be sure. There were so many people on board the Ocean Princess. Besides, that man had seemed sad, not grouchy.
I turned back to my book. I read a chapter, then another. The sun was scorching. I decided it was time for a swim. I began swimming laps. When I surfaced after awhile, the man had gotten a glass of iced tea from somewhere. He tasted it and made a hideous face.
The next time I surfaced, I was just in time to hear the man say, "Clumsy fool." I wasn't positive why he was saying it, but a woman was walking away from him looking quite annoyed.
The next time I surfaced, the man had opened a book. But he wasn't reading it. He was looking over at a group of people who were laughing and talking and playing Trivial Pursuit. "No respect for someone who might want to read," grumbled the man as I hoisted myself out of the pool.
What did he expect? I thought. This is a pool, not a library.
As I was drying myself off, the man dropped
his book. Without thinking about it, I leaned over and retrieved it. "Here you go," I said, handing it to him. And then I glanced at the title. "The Mayor of Casterbridge!" I exclaimed. "That's my nannie's favorite book. She reads it once a year."
"No kidding," said the man. "I've read it eight times. . . . Who's your nannie?"
"My grandmother. Mom's mother. She's seventy-three. She has a car named the Pink Clinker."
"No kidding," the man said again. "Seventy-three. Does that mean she's read the book seventy-three times?"
I shook my head. "Only fifty-eight. Once a year since she was fifteen. I guess I forgot to mention that part."
The man almost smiled then Ч but not quite.
"My Gertrude's favorite book was Pride and Prejudice."
It was my turn. "Who's Gertrude?" I asked as I finished drying off and lay down on the lounge chair again.
"My wife. Dead now." The man turned away. His almost-smile had disappeared.
"I'm sorry," I told him. "Really I am. It's awful when people die ... or go away. Nan-73
rue's husband Ч my grandfather Ч died. And my dad went away once and never came back. Now I have a stepfather."
"No kidding."
"Yeah. He's the one taking us on this trip. He's taking my mom, my three brothers, my two friends, my stepsister and stepbrother, and me."
"No kidding. Sounds like a mighty nice person."
"Oh, he is," I assured the man. "And generous. I think he'd do anything for our family. But you know what?" (Why was I confiding in this stranger?) "One of my friends that Watson brought along Ч her name is Dawn Ч well, she and I are sort of having a fight."
"No kidding."
"Yeah. I hate having fights. Especially when you're supposed to be having a good time. And especially when she's my guest."
"What are you fighting about?"
"We're kind of like the Odd Couple on TV."
"No kidding. Which one of you is the messy one?"
"Me." I looked down at my hands.
"Nothing to be ashamed of," said the man.
"My Gertrude and I were like that. I was the messy one, too."
"Yeah? Then we're two of a kind."
"I guess/' he replied. "Except that you look like you're having fun on this trip."
"Oh, I am," I agreed. "Not counting the problem with Dawn. Aren't you having fun?"
The man shrugged. "I don't fit in on this trip. I should never have come. I came for the wrong reasons. Besides, I'm too old and I'm a big grouch."
I giggled. "My name's Kristy Thomas," I told him. "What's yours?"
"Rudy Staples."
"Nice to meet you, Mr. Staples," I said, and shook his hand.
"Nice to meet you, Kristy Thomas."
Mr. Staples told me all about Gertrude then Ч how even though she was a neatnik, she'd been his lawn bowling partner, his golf partner, his life partner. But she'd had a heart attack and died just two months earlier. Mr. Staples had taken the trip for a change of pace. He said he needed to get away from his memories.