“I tried to get snacks for the occasion and the patisserie is closed!” Dot said, rushing up to the gazebo to meet her friends. “What is going on with the universe today?”
“You can’t get pastries because there was a lizard footprint and it was on the news and I don’t know what happened and that’s what we’re trying to figure out!” Bree exploded. Malia couldn’t remember ever seeing her friend so anxious before.
“Something weird is going on,” Malia said. “Zelda was on the news this morning, bad-mouthing the patisserie and telling everyone that Bree started Save the Salamanders. And she also sent me the fee from her last job with the boys, even though she didn’t owe us.”
“What?” asked Dot. “Do we think this is another prank?”
Malia shrugged. “She should be here any minute. She can set the record straight.”
Zelda sauntered up to the gazebo, wearing a green dress with tiny pink flowers printed on it. It reminded Malia ever so slightly of the dresses Zelda had worn back in preschool.
“Hi,” Zelda said.
“What do you want?” Malia narrowed her eyes. She didn’t have time for games.
“Do you really not know why I called you here?”
“I mean, I have an idea. But I’m not, like, psychic.”
“Like the five-year-old boys think you are,” said Dot.
“Touché,” said Zelda. “So I supposed you want an explanation about what happened with the babysitting job.”
“And the lizard footprint in the chocolate,” Bree chimed in.
“And the local news,” said Dot.
“Right, right.” Zelda tented her fingers. “Okay, so this might come as sort of a surprise to you guys, but I haven’t had the easiest time making friends.”
“You don’t say!” said Malia.
“Very funny.” Zelda hesitated a moment. She bit her lip, as if she were nervous, but that couldn’t be right, because evil people didn’t get nervous. “Look, I feel like a little ridiculous for admitting this, but my mom didn’t hire you because she felt sorry for you and your business. She actually called you because she thought it would be nice for me to spend some time with people my own age. You know, outside of school.”
“You mean, like . . . friends?” said Malia.
Zelda shrugged. “Yeah. Of course, I thought it was the dumbest, most insulting thing I’d ever heard. I mean, what kind of parent does such a thing? Trying to buy me friends? And what if anyone at school had heard about it? Like, that I needed babysitting by people my own age?”
Malia actually started to feel a little bad for Zelda. She imagined that couldn’t be an easy situation for anyone, even someone as tough-seeming as Zelda.
“Anyway, I figured I’d better stay in control of the situation. Stay one step ahead of you guys, keep you so focused on how bad the situation was for you that you never realized how humiliating it was for me. But I wasn’t prepared to actually enjoy hanging out with you guys.”
“We enjoyed hanging out with you, too,” Malia said. “That is, until you kept screwing us over.”
“Yeah, I know. Old habits die hard, I guess. But a lot of things actually weren’t my fault. Like, Dot, when you said all the weird things that day at the patisserie? It was only because the evil boys got control of my phone and started saying things about farts into the translator.”
At the memory of the incident, Dot looked embarrassed all over again.
“And when Chase’s mom called to hire me as their only sitter, I actually argued against it. I told her how we work as a team. But she was really set on this new plan, and I worried that if I didn’t say yes, we might lose out on their business entirely. But I think with a little more time, I can convince her to let us all come back together.”
“But what about the lizard footprint in the chocolate?!” Bree cut in. It was clear that she couldn’t wait another second for the explanation.
“Well, that was totally my doing. I saw Chelsea on the news the other day, and how she took credit for your ideas. I may like to cause trouble, and I may be a pain a lot of the time, but I have no tolerance for people who try to take all the credit for things they didn’t do. I couldn’t just sit around and do nothing.”
“So . . . what did you do?” Bree pressed.
“I staged the whole thing. I borrowed one salamander from the crossing and brought it to the bakery and had it step on my croissant.”
Bree made a horrified face.
“Don’t worry, it wasn’t harmed. I returned it to the crosswalk afterward and it merrily went on its way.”
Bree’s face returned to normal.
“But did you hear? Jolie Pâtisserie is moving to Playa del Norte. I guess the Board of Health threatened to shut them down, and they’re looking for a new start.”
“All because of the lizard fiasco?” Malia couldn’t believe her ears.
“Well, there was no lizard infestation, of course. I made that up. But the Board of Health needed to investigate, and when they checked out the kitchen, they found a whole bunch of other unsettling things back there. I just helped bring it all to light.” Zelda seemed exceptionally pleased with herself.
“So, there will be no more delicious bread products?” Dot looked genuinely saddened by this. Though she hated the au pairs more than anyone, she was also the biggest fan of wheat-based baked goods.
“Well, yes, it means no more French pastries. But it also means no more French babysitters. Obviously, the au pairs are all moving to Playa del Norte as well, since they have no choice but to move along with their parents. So both businesses are leaving town.”
This was the best news Malia had ever heard. It felt like a miracle had taken place. But it wasn’t a miracle; it was Zelda.
Despite everything Zelda had put them through over the years, Malia found herself feeling sorry for Zelda. Maybe she kept acting out because she was lonely and misunderstood.
Zelda shifted her feet. “I guess this is my way of saying that I’m really sorry for the way I’ve treated you in the past. I know you can never forget some of the things I’ve done, and it might be hard to forgive my actions, but I hope you will.”
No sooner had Malia started to process Zelda’s apology than her cell phone started ringing. It was Mrs. Gregory.
“Malia? It’s Mrs. Gregory. Oh, it is so good to hear your voice. I don’t suppose you and the girls have any openings this week?”
“Oh! Why, yes, I think we do. Let me check the calendar!”
While Malia pretended to check their definitely empty calendar, another call came in on her call waiting. It was Wendy Blatt, Aloysius’s mom. While Malia was taking that call, she received a text from Dina Larsson and a voicemail from the Woos, both requesting babysitting services. Malia made a note of all the jobs they already had on the calendar for the coming week. It was nearly more than they could handle, but she knew this was a good problem to have and she was determined to appreciate it.
Malia sat on the gazebo floor, trying to figure out how to cover all the jobs. Zelda sat down next to her, along with the others. It felt weird to have a fourth person there, in what had become their sacred space of friendship. But it also felt weird in a good way, like Zelda somehow belonged. That was when she realized that maybe the solution was right in front of her.
“Hey, Zelda, do you think maybe you could babysit the Gregory kids this Wednesday?”
Zelda gave her an almost shy smile and nodded. “Sure!”
The four girls chattered happily as they continued assigning jobs, their voices echoing through the gazebo, thrilled to be back to babysitting.
Business wasn’t just back—it was booming. Thanks to the most unlikely of allies, peace had been restored. The nightmare was over.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Dot
For today’s episode of Trio of Doom, Chase answered the door with his finger lodged in his nose.
“Hi there, Chase,” said Dot. “Are you digging for treasure?”
&nb
sp; “I’m collecting boogers to add to my collection,” he said, as if this were an everyday occurrence. Which, for him, maybe it was.
“Oh,” said Dot. “Is that sanitary?”
He shrugged. “I keep them in a box.” Then he walked off into the house, finger still securely in his nostril.
As her final act of charity, Zelda had convinced Chase’s mom to hire back the babysitters, and today, Zelda and Dot were tackling the job together. Dot supposed winning this job back wasn’t as necessary now that the rest of their clients were once again in need of sitters, but it was a matter of pride. After suffering so very much at the hands of these devils, she needed to go out on a high note. And she was prepared. Today, the tide was going to turn. It was going to be great.
“MY NAME IS MONSIEUR BUTT!” yelled Smith as the girls entered the living room.
“Time for the Monsieur Butt dance!” said Clark.
Smith started singing a weird song that had no lyrics, just “dun dun dun dun dun,” and all three boys broke out into a very spirited jig.
“Butt! Butt! Butt! Butt!” chanted Chase, shaking his rump.
“MONSIEUR BUTT SAYS, JUMP!” yelled Smith.
The other boys jumped.
“MONSIEUR BUTT SAYS, FREEZE!”
The other boys froze.
It appeared this was some sort of bizarre version of Simon Says.
“MONSIEUR BUTT SAYS, FART!”
All three boys let loose an epic fart. Then they collapsed on the ground in a fit of giggles.
“Okay, that is NOT mature.” Dot crossed her arms.
“WE’RE FIVE!” Smith yelled.
This was a valid point.
Dot supposed there was no time like the present to share her secret plan with the boys.
“All right. We’re going to play a game! But we have to do it in the yard!” Dot said, rounding them up and scooting them out the back door. They clambered across the deck, down the steps, and onto the grass, where Dot could enact her secret plan without making too much of a mess.
“REMEMBER WHEN YOU GOT SPRAYED BY THE SKUNKS?” Smith laughed.
“I do,” Dot said.
“THAT WAS SO FUNNY!” Smith continued.
“Hahahahahahahahaha!” Clark dissolved into laughter.
“That was the grossest ever!” Chase agreed.
“Okay, so here is how we play the game.” Dot was all business. “You line up in front of those bushes. And you stay very still like statues, and you close your eyes. And you don’t open them until I say it’s time.”
“AND THEN WHAT HAPPENS?” Smith demanded.
“I can’t tell you, because it’s a surprise.”
“I DON’T LIKE SURPRISES!”
“Yeah, we don’t like surprises,” Chase chimed in.
“I promise it’s worth it,” Zelda added.
The boys considered this for a second. Having received the witch’s encouragement, they reluctantly lined up and closed their eyes.
As soon as the boys weren’t looking, Dot and Zelda retrieved the Super Soakers they had hidden near the deck upon their arrival. They were filled with a special slime Dot had developed in the science lab: an ooey-gooey jelly formula—green, sticky, gross. Dot made sure that it was machine-washable and, of course, nontoxic.
“Ready?” Dot asked. “The surprise is coming, but you can’t open your eyes until I say so.”
They looked at one another, silently counting backward from three.
Then she and Zelda sprayed the contents of the Super Soakers all over the boys. They were immediately coated in a gooey neon-green liquid, like something out of a TV show.
“Aaaaaaaaaaaauuuuuuuuugh!” yelled Clark.
“WHAT IS THIS? IS THIS SLIME?” yelled Smith, walking around with his arms extended, like a zombie.
Chase was just confused. He patted himself all over, trying to make sense of the strange mixture now coating his body.
“HOW DARE YOU ATTACK ME, VILE SITTER WOMAN!” screamed an indignant Smith. “YOU SHALL NOT PREVAIL! I WILL RETALIATE WITH MY WIZARD SPELL!”
“What IS this stuff?” asked Chase, who honestly seemed more intrigued than annoyed.
“It’s a lot like boogers, actually,” said Dot. “In a minute, it’s going to start to solidify. And you’ll be trapped. Frozen in time, like a mummy.”
This part was a little white lie, but she thought it would be funny to see them react.
“WHAT?” yelled Smith. “HOW IS THAT POSSIBLE?”
“My parents are going to be so mad,” said Clark.
“Yeah! You’ll never get away with this,” said Chase.
“Not so. Your parents will never know the difference, because the slime washes off with water. Disappears without a trace.” Dot smiled. “But I’m not letting you go until I decide that it’s time. I call this game ‘Human Statues.’ ”
Smith shot her a look of death.
Dot was very, very pleased with herself.
“You’re even more powerful than a witch,” said Chase.
“You’re a wizard!” said Clark, who stood in a particularly amusing jumping-jack pose.
“CAN YOU TEACH ME HOW TO MAKE MY OWN SLIME?” asked Smith.
“Maybe one day. If you get on my good side,” said Dot.
“I wanna learn, too!” said Chase.
“Me too!” Clark chimed in.
“THE WIZARD IS THE COOLEST BABYSITTER EVER!” Smith yelled, so loudly he was likely heard in outer space. And for once, Dot was happy about that.
Chapter Thirty
Bree
Bree looked around and felt flooded with feelings. All her hard work had come down to this moment: the day of the Save the Salamanders Carnival Fund-Raiser Extravaganza. Before this moment, Bree had thought the rally in the gazebo was her proudest moment. Or the first time she helped a salamander safely cross the street. Or maybe that one time, which had happened five years ago and had nothing to do with saving anything. Regardless, none of those moments were her proudest moment, as it turned out. Because this was incredible.
Bree scanned the crowd gathered on the grounds of the Playa del Mar school. Families milled about. The soccer boys loitered beneath a giant tree. Chelsea, on the other hand, was nowhere to be seen. But Bree figured it was only a matter of time before she waltzed in and acted like the entire day had been her doing.
In honor of the occasion, Bree—well, technically Bree’s mom—had convinced the school to let her take over not just the sports field, but also the entire property for the day. In the parking lot, a taco truck had already attracted a huge line of people. Encircling the field and the surrounding paths were big folding tables, where all sorts of donated items were being sold. Some of Bree’s fellow students were selling baked goods, local parents were selling their crafts—ceramics, needlepoint, handmade jewelry—and Dot’s mom was giving tarot readings. The school had even set up a podium at one end of the soccer field, which Bree, Dot, and Malia had decorated with green and brown and black balloons, the colors of a spotted salamander. The huge banner they had made read SAVE THE SALAMANDERS! in bold—but not glittery—letters.
Bree’s very favorite part was the enormous inflatable dancing man, which the local used car dealership had donated for the day. The giant green form was visible for blocks and blocks and towered above them all, dancing in the wind. If you squinted, it almost looked like a joyful salamander.
Last but certainly not least, there was a giant bank—actually, a giant wooden box with a slot cut in the top, covered with cut-and-paste photos of salamanders—where people could put their donations. A number of people had already pledged coins and bills and even checks.
Bree had no idea how much money the carnival would raise. She had tried to figure it out, but she wasn’t psychic, or particularly good at math. She could only hope for the best. But no matter how it all turned out, she couldn’t help but feel proud of herself, and her friends, for putting it all together. The scene was truly impressive: bigger and more festive than
she could have ever dreamed.
As Bree scanned the crowd, a huge black sports utility vehicle rolled up to the curb in the school parking lot. The license plate read VER0NICA, with a zero where the O should be.
WHAT?
No.
Could it be?
It was.
Bree gasped.
It was Veronica. The person, not the cat. Veronica had heard her cry. And she had answered it, in the most beautiful way.
Veronica emerged from the back seat, wearing an enormous silver puffer coat that went all the way down to her ankles. It didn’t make a lot of sense, given the warm weather, but Bree thought it was the single most glamorous piece of clothing she had ever seen. On her feet, she wore high-heeled ankle booties in a corresponding silver glitter. They were so sparkly, it looked like they were covered with actual diamonds.
Bree felt like she was caught in one of those dreams where you tried to scream but no sound came out. She couldn’t feel her face. She couldn’t hear her thoughts. She couldn’t make a sound. But she still felt AMAZING.
This was the most thrilling moment of Bree’s entire life. She was so excited that she thought she might pee a little, but she managed to keep it under control. She knew that Veronica would never let her down! Veronica wasn’t like Chelsea. She wasn’t like all the other disappointing people in the world. Veronica cared. Veronica cared about people and Veronica cared about animals and—most incredibly of all—Veronica cared about Bree.
Already, a few people had noticed the presence of a pop star in their midst. It was only a matter of time before the rest of the crowd totally lost control.
Veronica strode across the school parking lot—their school parking lot!—accompanied by two other humans: a very serious-looking woman wearing super-pointy black shoes, a black suit, and a fedora; along with a giant man wearing a yellow sweat suit. He was the size of three men added together. Bree recognized him as the bodyguard Veronica was frequently photographed with.
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