"Martin, Ann M - Baby-sitters Club 060 - Mary Anne's Makeover" - читать интересную книгу автора (Martin Ann M)

"The time machine," Marilyn said casually. "I know all about it." She ran to the top of the basement stairs, and called down, "Hey! Are you done yet?"
"No way!" Carolyn replied.
"Well, can me and Mary Anne come down?"
There was a pause. "What's the password, Marilyn?"
Marilyn exhaled. "I forgot."
"Warp movement!" Carolyn whispered loudly.
"Oh, yeah, warp movement," Marilyn repeated.
"Okay, come on," Carolyn replied.
I held back a laugh. Carolyn may have been a good scientist, but she was a terrible secret-
keeper. We walked down the wooden steps to a large, unfinished basement. It had cinderblock walls and a concrete floor, with exposed pipes hanging from a low ceiling. I had to duck to avoid cobwebs.
There was a boiler against the far wall. To one of its pipes, Carolyn had tied ropes and wires. They fanned out in a kind of network, attached on the other side to a stack of wooden crates. Scraps of metal, tinfoil, crumpled-up paper, and tools were strewn around the floor. Nailed to the crates was a cardboard sign that looked like this:
"What a mess," Marilyn mumbled.
"Hello?" I said.
Carolyn popped out from behind the crates. She was wearing a pair of cat's-eye sunglasses, and the "flux capacitator" was strapped to her forehead with a terry cloth headband.
"When I am finished, you will go where no girl has gone before," Carolyn said, in a voice like a TV announcer, "to enter the final dimension, through a warp of time - "
Marilyn was practically shrieking with laughter. "Carolyn, you're warped!" she said.
At that moment, the boiler clicked and made a whooshing sound. Carolyn screamed and jumped away, knocking over some more crates that were off to the side. Marilyn laughed even louder.
Carolyn had landed on the floor, her glasses hanging from one ear, the headband over her eyes. I put my hand over my mouth, but it was too late. A little snort came out.
That was enough. Carolyn cracked a smile, then let out a giggle. And then, in the next instant, the three of us were rolling on the floor with laughter.
Chapter 2.
I left the Arnolds' house at 5:19. That gave me eleven minutes. Precisely. It's a pretty long walk to Bradford Court, so I mapped out the quickest route in my head. I had worn my Keds, because I knew I'd have to move fast. Slinging my backpack securely over my shoulders, I set off.
Sound like I was going to a meeting of some secret society? Some spy organization where latecomers were locked out? Well, not exactly. I was on my way to Claudia Kishi's house for a Baby-sitters Club meeting, and I hate to be late.
By the time I got there, I felt like a walking block of ice. Usually when I reach the Kishis', I slow down a little. I take a look at the house across the street, where my dad and I used to live. I remember all the fun times I had with Claudia and Kristy (Kristy used to live next door). All these warm feelings rush through
me. Well, that afternoon I had only one cold feeling: Get inside. Luckily, Claud leaves her front door open on meeting days, so I barged right in.
A warm, gingery smell floated out from the kitchen. I called out, "Ha, Muzz Kush!" (It was supposed to be "Hi, Mrs. Kishi," but my jaw was frozen.)
"Hello, Mary Anne!" came Mrs. Kishi's voice as I ran up the stairs. As usual, I could hear Claudia's older sister, Janine the Genius, clicking away at her computer in her bedroom. I dashed past the racket and into Claud's room.
"Hi," I said, stepping around candy wrappers, cut-up pieces of cardboard, and some string. (Claudia is very creative, and very messy.) I sneaked a look at the clock, which said 5:27.
Whew. Three minutes to spare. I had made it.
"Hi," everyone replied.
I took off my pack and sat on the bed between Claudia and Dawn. Jessica Ramsey, another of our members, was sitting on the floor. She was holding a box of Milk Duds and was tossing one up and trying to catch it in her mouth.
"Ow," Jessi said as a Dud bonked her under the nose.
"No, no," said Kristy Thomas. "Watch."
Kristy was in her usual position, sitting on a director's chair, next to the clock. She took a Milk Dud from a box in her hand, threw it almost up to the ceiling, and caught it cleanly in her mouth. "Think of your mouth as a catcher's mitt," she said.
Ew. Can you imagine?
So, we had a couple of minutes in which to relax (and thaw out) before starting time. Claudia and Dawn were looking at fashion magazines, and Kristy was coaching Jessi in Dud-catching, so I decided to pick up our record book from the floor and prepare myself in case a client called right away. (As BSC secretary, I'm in charge of the records.)
The club is a real business. Meetings begin at five-thirty sharp every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, and they last till six. We take phone calls from parents who need sitters. Then we schedule the jobs among ourselves (there are seven regular members, and two associates). We also talk and eat and laugh and hang out. (That's why we call the BSC a "club" and not a "company" or something.)
Each of us is an officer with special duties. In the record book, I keep a calendar of all our jobs, a list of clients' addresses and phone numbers, a record of how much we've been paid, and special information about our
charges (problems, interests, favorite activities). It's a lot of work, but I like making lists and organizing things (I guess I get that from my dad).
By the way, there's also a BSC notebook, where we write descriptions of our jobs - funny stories, words of advice, anything that might help in the future.
When the BSC first started, we put fliers in supermarkets and other public places. But, as Kristy says, "Word of mouth is the best advertising," and she's right. By now, lots of Stoneybrook parents know about us. We're reliable and very convenient. Imagine if you were a parent. Would you rather call a bunch of sitters, one by one, hoping to find someone available - or make one call and reach seven eager, experienced sitters at once?
Do we do anything besides baby-sit? Yes, lots. We hold special events for our charges, like parties, fund drives for good causes, and picnics.
I have to admit, most of our best ideas have come from Kristy Thomas. She's like a faucet - new ideas just flow out of her all the time. Some of them are elaborate, like the time she organized a softball team made up of kids not ready for Little League. Other ideas are simple, like Kid-Kits. Those are activity boxes we take with us on sitting jobs. They're just
cartons full of old toys and games and books, but believe it or not, kids adore them.
Kristy's greatest idea was . . . the Baby-sitters Club! She got the idea back in seventh grade when she and I were next-door neighbors. Her mom was franctically trying to line up a sitter for Kristy's little brother and was making a million phone calls. Suddenly the Idea Faucet started flowing. Kristy got on the phone - to me and Claudia. She told us her plan, and next thing you know, history was made!
Kristy, by the way, is the BSC president. (Surprised?) That means she runs the meetings and gets to scowl at whoever comes late. She's very confident and take-charge. A lot of people find her loud and bossy (well, she is), but the great thing about Kristy is she knows it and doesn't care. Sigh. I always wanted to be that way, but I just crumble if someone even gives me a cross look.
Remember when I said that Dawn was one of my two best friends? Kristy is the other. We've known each other since before we could walk. Now I can walk fine, but Kristy's gone on to other things - like track, softball, gymnastics, and volleyball. Unlike me, she's a great athlete. You can tell just by looking at her. She's sort of small and wiry, and always dressed in a sweat shirt and jeans.
Most people think we look alike. I'm al-
most as short as Kristy is, and we both have brown eyes and longish brown hair. The difference is, you would never mistake me for an athlete. And although I wear pretty casual clothes, I dress up a teeny bit more than she does. (For instance, that day I was wearing teal-colored stirrup pants and a bulky ski sweater with a colorful snowflake print, over a pink turtleneck.)
Kristy moved away from Bradford Court for the same reason I did - to join a stepfamily. Her natural father walked out on her family when she was six. He just left without an explanation, not long after Kristy's brother David Michael was born. For years, Mrs. Thomas somehow raised four kids (Kristy has two older brothers, Charlie and Sam) and held a full-time job. Then she fell in love with this nice, quiet guy named Watson Brewer, who happened to be very wealthy. Before we knew it, they had married and Kristy was moving into a mansion! Since then, the Thomas/Brewer family has grown. Now it includes an adopted Vietnamese girl named Emily Michelle (she's two and a half); Kristy's grandmother, who moved in to help take care of Emily; and a dog, a cat, and two goldfish.
"Hi, guys!" said Stacey McGill, as she raced into the room with Mallory Pike.