"Martin, Ann M - Baby-sitters Club Mystery 011 - Claudia and the Mystery at the Museum" - читать интересную книгу автора (Martin Ann M)BSCM11 - Claudia and the Mystery at the Museum Ц Martin, Ann M.
Chapter 1. "Claudia, what on earth are you doing?" asked my older sister Janine, when she saw me sprawled out on the living room floor, near the fireplace. "Reading the paper," I said. "What does it look like I'm doing?" Janine is a genius (for real!), but sometimes she doesn't seem very bright at all. "Not just the paper," said Janine. "You're reading The New York Times. The Sunday New York Times." "I know that," I said, with dignity. "But you never read the paper," said Janine. "Except perhaps to check your horoscope or something." Janine was right, I had to admit it. I don't usually read our local newspaper, the Stoneybrook News, much less the Sunday New York Times. Normally, the tiny print and serious-looking columns of that huge, thick newspaper put me off. I'm not big on current events. Or history. Or politics. But there was something in the Times that Sunday that I was really interested in reading about. So I was wading through page after page of dense black type, trying to find a certain article. If you knew me the way my friends know me, you would be able to guess what that article was about. "Art," you'd say, without thinking twice. And you'd be right. I may not be interested in geography or math or any of those other boring (to me) subjects, but I am very, very interested in art. I love to look at it, I love to read about it. And most of all, I like to make it. I like to draw and paint and sculpt. I like to make jewelry. I like to work with papier-mтchщ. I'm never happier than when I'm creating something that's totally me. "Totally me" means totally Claudia Kishi. And since I can't show you a piece of my artwork, I guess I'll just have to tell you about myself instead. I'm thirteen years old and I am in the eighth grade at Stoneybrook Middle School. That's in Stoneybrook, Connecticut, where I've lived all my life. It's a small quiet town with lots of nice old houses. As for my looks, I have long, straight black hair and dark almond-shaped eyes. In case you haven't guessed, I am Asian (Japanese-American), and so are both of my parents. My father is a partner in an investment firm in Stamford, which is the city nearest to our town. Don't ask me what he does, exactly, because I've never really understood it. It has something to do with money and numbers, thatТs all I know. My mother is the head librarian at the Stoneybrook Public Library. And my sister, as I told you before, is a genius. Janine has always been smart. For example, she taught herself to read before she went to kindergarten. And now, even though she's only sixteen and a junior in high school, she takes classes at Stoneybrook University. Classes like physics and chemistry. And she gets all A's. I get A's, too. But not in classes like English or social studies. I get A's in art. I'm not going to tell you my other grades, except to say that they're not so hot. Ifs not that I'm dumb. My teachers Ч and my parents Ч are always telling me that I have great "potential," and that if I "applied myself" I could do better in school. But I'd rather "apply myself" to a painting in progress, or to a new sculpture technique. I mean, so what if I can't spell too well, or tell you what happened in the year 1016? Did Van Gogh know how to calculate what x equals? Probably not, and it sure didn't affect his painting. I've tried to get this point across to my parents, and I think they are beginning to understand. They are very supportive of my interest in art. Still, I know they wish I would do better in school. They also wish I would a) stop eating junk food and b) stop reading Nancy Drew books. They don't like me to eat junk food because they say it's bad for me, but I have to say I haven't noticed any problems with my health. I can eat Chee-tos and Milk Duds all day long, and I never gain weight or get pimples. I'm just lucky, I guess. As for the Nancy Drew books, my parents think I should be reading more "challenging" material. But I love mysteries, and that's all there is to it. So I hide my chips and candy and books all over my room, and I figure what my parents don't know won't hurt them. Overall, I'd have to say that my family is pretty cool. Still, none of them understands me quite the way Mimi did. Mimi was my grandmother, and she lived with us until she died, which was not that long ago. She was always my favorite person. She had this peace around her, as if she just accepted the world and everyone in it. She always saw the best in people. I think of her every day, and I'll never stop missing her. There's one other thing you should know about me, which is that I am a pretty wild dresser. I guess it's all part of my artistic nature. I love to put outrageous outfits together, and I hate looking like everyone else. I mean, I do wear trendy clothes, like leggings and big slouchy socks and Doc Marten boots, but I always add my own touches so that I stand out from the crowd. For instance, earrings I've made myself, or a big belt that I found in a thrift store. I also like to play around with my hair. One day I'll wear it in a French braid, and the next day itТll be in a ponytail on the top of my head. That Sunday, my hair was in a long braid hanging down one side of my head, with red ribbons threaded into it. I was wearing a red-and-white striped shirt that hung down almost to my knees, red leggings, and black high-top sneakers. Even though I wasn't planning on going anywhere that afternoon, I had put some thought into my outfit. ThatТs just the way I am. I turned the pages of the Arts and Leisure section, hunting for the article I had heard about. My art teacher had mentioned it during class on Friday, and told us to look out for it. "What are you looking for?" asked Janine, who had settled into the couch with the Book Review section. "There's supposed to be an article in here about the new museum," I answered. "They're having a special show next week." The new museum is one that recently opened in Stoneybrook. I've been really busy lately, so I haven't been there yet, but I've heard a lot about it. It isn't a huge museum, like the Metropolitan Museum in New York, but there's plenty to see, anyway. There are exhibits about science and history, and lots of special activities for kids. But a big part of the space is devoted to art. The museum doesn't have any Picassos yet, or anything like that, but they do have some work by lesser-known artists, which I was looking forward to seeing. Also, they plan on sponsoring special exhibits every so often Ч the kinds of exhibits I would never have had a chance to see before, unless I went to New York. There are a couple of small galleries in Stoneybrook, but nothing like this new museum. I was pretty excited about it, but I got really excited when I finally found the article I'd been looking for in the Times. "Wow!" I said. "They're going to have a big show of Don Newman's stuff. A ret Ч retro Ч " "I knew that," I said. "I just couldn't pronounce the word right away. This is so amazing! I'll be able to see his early work." "Who is Don Newman?" asked Janine. "He's a sculptor," I answered. "A pretty famous one. And it just so happens that he lives near here, at least part of the year. That's why the Stoneybrook Museum gets to have the world premiere of this show." "What kind of sculpture does he do?" asked Janine. "Mostly abstract," I said. "I saw some of it in a museum in New York last year, and I loved it. He uses these big, rounded shapes, sort of like Henry Moore's stuff. But he's also influenced by Brancusi Ч these simple but radical forms. And some of his most recent stuff is a little bit like Noguchi's huge architectural style. But I hear his early work is really different. It looks more like Giacometti's long, thin human figures." Janine stared at me. "You sound like an art critic," she said. "How do you know all that?" She looked very impressed. I shrugged. "I don't know," I said. "I read about it, and look at books that have pictures of people's work." This didn't seem like a big deal to me, but I guess not everyone knows a Brancusi from a Noguchi. Anyway, I was kind of enjoying watching Janine's jaw drop. ThatТs not a sight I see too often. I went back to the article. "Oh, awesome," I said. "This piece I saw in New York is going to be there. Ifs called 'Daphne'." "Daphne?" repeated Janine. "ThatТs a name from the Roman myths. She was Apollo's first love, but she didn't love him back. In fact, she begged the gods to turn her into a tree so she could get away from him." "That makes sense," I said, thoughtfully. "The sculpture is abstract, but when I saw it, I thought of a woman Ч and a tree. Ifs rounded, but there are these branches reaching up from it." "Daphne became a laurel tree," said Janine, "and from then on laurel was very important to the Romans. They made laurel branches into wreaths, and ..." I had stopped listening. Janine has this habit of telling you more about certain subjects than you ever want to know. I've learned to tune her out. I had started thinking about something else, anyway. Here's what it was: I was dying to go to that show, and I wanted to take someone with me, to share it. Right away I thought of some of the children I baby-sit for. I love to baby-sit. I do it a lot, and I'm even in a dub thatТs about babysitting. Ifs called the BSC, for Baby-sitters dub, and my best friends are in it. I'll tell you more about it later. Anyway, I was giving art lessons to some of the kids around the time that Mimi died. And even though I was incredibly sad about losing Mimi, I was able to get a lot of pleasure out of teaching the kids to love art the way I do. I knew they would like the Newman show, and from what I had heard, there would be plenty of other things for them to see and do at the museum, too. I headed for the phone. Janine was still droning on about Greek and Roman myths, but I ignored her. I made a few calls, and soon my plans were all set. I would go to the museum that Thursday, after school. And I would take three children with me: Corrie Addison, who had been one of my favorite art pupils, and the Arnold twins, Carolyn and Marilyn. I'm not sure who was looking forward to the trip more, me or the kids. Either way, I couldn't wait until Thursday. Chapter 2. On Monday, Mom brought a book home from the library. It was about contemporary American artists, and it included a few pages about Don Newman. I read every word and studied the pictures. Then, on Tuesday, the Stoneybrook News carried a long article about the exhibit at the museum. I saw a picture of Don Newman, and he looked really neat Ч like a big teddy bear, with a full beard and horn-rimmed glasses. As you can imagine, by Wednesday I was totally psyched for the show Ч and I still had to wait a day! That afternoon my friends came over to my house for a BSC meeting, and I think I almost drove them crazy raving about Don Newman's work. "Enough, already, Claud," said Kristy. "It's time for the meeting to start, anyway." She pointed to my digital clock, which had just clicked to 5:30. Kristy Thomas is the president of the BSC, and she's very strict about meetings starting punctually. Maybe the best way to tell you about my friends in the BSC is to tell you about this game we once played at a sleepover: If you had to be an animal, what kind of animal would you be? Kristy said she would be a dog. That made sense Ч Kristy loves dogs. Her favorite hat has a picture of a collie on it, in memory of Louie, her first dog. Now her family has a Bernese Mountain dog puppy named Shannon. And Kristy is friendly and loyal and hardworking, so I guess she'd make a pretty good dog. Kristy is the one who thought up the idea for the BSC. She realized how convenient it would be for parents to be able to dial one phone number and reach a whole bunch of experienced sitters, instead of having to make a zillion calls every time they needed someone to watch their kids. Like most of Kristy's ideas, this one was very simple, but it worked perfectly. The BSC has always had plenty of business. At first we advertised, with fliers and newspaper ads, but now we hardly ever need to do that. Satisfied parents are the only ad-ertising we need. Anyway, back to Kristy. She has long brown hair and brown eyes, and she's kind of short. She's not interested in fashion or makeup at |
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