Kristy and the Mother's Day Surprise

by Ann M. Martin

  Oh, brother, I thought. All of Stoneybrook would know within a week.

  By the time we reached Mary Anne, the other kids were emerging from the haunted house. They were excited, and so was Karen, who was bursting with her precious knowledge.

  “Rides! Rides! Let’s go on rides!” chanted Vanessa Pike.

  The chant was taken up by the other kids, so we set out across the parking lot. Before we were halfway there we were stopped by —

  “The balloon-seller!” exclaimed Jamie.

  Only he turned out to be a balloon-giver. The clown handed a free Sudsy’s Carnival helium balloon to each kid. Then he walked away.

  “What a nice man,” said Suzi Barrett.

  Us sitters began tying the balloons to the kids’ wrists and our own. Just before Mallory could tackle Jackie Rodowsky’s, it slipped out of his hand and floated away.

  “Oh, Jackie,” cried Mallory in dismay, even though he is our walking disaster. We know to expect these things.

  But Jackie didn’t look the least bit upset. “My balloon is on its way to the moon, you know,” he said. “That’s where these things go.” He indicated the colorful garden of helium balloons around him.

  “They go to the moon?” repeated Nina Marshall.

  In a flash, the kids were slipping the balloons off their wrists.

  “My balloon is going to the moon, too,” said Claire Pike.

  “Yeah,” agreed Myriah Perkins.

  “Not mine,” said Jamie firmly. “Mine is for Lucy.” He held out his wrist so Claudia could tie his balloon to it securely.

  Balloonless (or almost balloonless) we reached the rides. Suddenly, my friends and I could hear nothing but, “I’m going on the whip,” or, “I hope we get stuck at the top of the ferris wheel,” or, “Look, Gabbie, a train.”

  I smiled. I kept smiling until I heard a voice say, “Please let me go on the whip with you, Nicky.”

  “No way,” he replied.

  “No way is right, Margo.” I looked around for Mallory. “Mal,” I said urgently, running over to her and her purple group, “Margo wants to go on the whip.”

  “No. Oh, no.”

  Margo is famous for her motion sickness. She gets airsick, carsick, seasick, you name it. So you can see why the whip was not a good idea.

  Mallory ran to her sister. “Margo,” she said in a no-nonsense voice, “you can’t go on any rides.”

  Margo’s face puckered up. “But everyone else is going on something. Even the little kids are going to ride on the train.”

  The train was pretty lame. All it did was travel slowly around a track in a circle. The kids sat in the cars and rang bells.

  “Hey,” said Mallory, “you could go on the train, Margo. That wouldn’t make you sick. At least, I don’t think so.”

  “The train is for babies!” cried Margo, looking offended.

  Mallory and her sister watched the rest of us kids and sitters line up for the rides we’d chosen. At last Mal said, “We-ell … maybe you could ride the merry-go-round, Margo. You can sit on one of those fancy benches. I don’t want you on a horse that goes up and down.”

  “All right,” agreed Margo, brightening.

  Mallory accompanied her sister on the carousel. They sat on a red-and-gold bench. The music started. The ride began. It went faster and faster until —

  “Mallory,” said Margo suddenly, “I’m dizzy. I don’t feel too good.”

  The words were barely out of her mouth before Margo’s breakfast was all over the floor of the merry-go-round.

  The Sudsy’s people were not too happy. Neither was Stacey, who had seen the whole thing and can’t stand the sight of barf.

  It was time for quieter activities. We left the rides. Some of the kids played games and won prizes. Jamie tried desperately to win a teddy bear for Lucy, but all he could get was a squirt gun.

  The younger kids had their faces made up.

  Mallory and Margo sat in the first-aid tent.

  Jessi’s group peeked into the sideshow tent and decided it looked like a rip-off.

  By 12:15, half of the kids were begging for cotton candy and popcorn, so we left Sudsy’s. It was on to Carle Playground for lunch.

  “But … but … box is not at planet. No, I mean is at planet, but where are my forks? And TV people. I try to watch Wheel of Fortune, and TV people are bother me. Will not leave alone.”

  I glanced at Claudia. My friends and I and the children had just reached Carle Playground, and there were Mr. Kishi, Mimi, and our lunches.

  And as you must have guessed by now, Mimi was having some trouble again. I think it was because she wasn’t quite sure why she was at a playground with her son-in-law, her granddaughter, her granddaughter’s friends, twenty-one children, and twenty-eight lunches. It could confuse anybody.

  I gave Mimi a kiss and told her not to worry about the TV people.

  Mimi flashed me an odd look. “TV people? What TV people? We have lunch to hand out. Better begin. Big job. Where is my Claudia?”

  Mimi fades in and out.

  I located Claudia. Then Mr. Kishi, Mimi, and my friends and I handed out the lunches. Very reluctantly, I put Margo’s in her hands.

  “How are you feeling?” I asked her, as she climbed onto a bench between her sisters.

  “Hungry?” she replied, as if she didn’t expect me to believe her.

  “Really?”

  “Honest.”

  “Okay,” I said doubtfully. “But eat very, very slowly.”

  Margo nodded seriously. “I will.”

  Mr. Kishi and Mimi slid into the car then and drove back to their house.

  The twenty-eight of us sat down and began eating right away. (We were starving.) We took up three entire picnic tables. I looked at my red group. Andrew, with a purple juice mustache, was munching away at his tuna-fish sandwich. Shea, a doughnut in one hand and an apple in the other, was watching Andrew fondly.

  “I bet you’re going to eat that whole sandwich, aren’t you?” he said to Andrew. “That’s really great. If you do, you might get muscles as big as Popeye’s.”

  And Karen was just gazing adoringly at Shea. At one point she said, “You know how they —” but she clapped her hand over her mouth. I knew she had almost given away one of the secrets she learned at the spook house. I’m sure she thought it would be a really terrific “gift” for Shea.

  Up and down my table and even at the other tables, I could hear various comments and see various kinds of eating going on. For example:

  Jenny Prezzioso is a slow, picky eater. She ate almost everything that was in her bag, but she did it in her own way. First she nibbled the crusts off of her sandwiches. “Okay. All tidy,” she said to herself. Then she ate the insides of the sandwiches in rows. When she had two strips left, one from each sandwich half, she began playing with them. (I think she was getting full.) She played with them until they were dirty and had to be thrown out.

  Jackie Rodowsky, our lovable walking disaster, dropped everything at least once. He was like a cartoon character. Accidentally (it’s always an accident with Jackie), he flipped his fork to the ground. As he picked it up, he knocked his orange off the paper plate it was resting on. He returned the orange, knocked the fork off again, picked it up, spilled his Coke, and while trying to mop up the Coke in his lap, knocked his fork to the ground again.

  Mary Anne, sitting across the table from him, nearly turned purple trying not to laugh.

  Another kid I liked to watch was Buddy Barrett. He was the last person on earth I would have expected to be picky — but he was picky. He examined nearly every bite before putting it in his mouth.

  “This has,” he said, frowning, “a black speck. Look, right there.” He leaned across the table to show it to Nicky Pike.

  “So pick it off,” said Nicky, who would probably eat something that had been rolling around in a mud puddle.

  Buddy picked it off and gingerly ate the rest of the bite of sandwich.

  Then there we
re Myriah and Gabbie, who were nibbling their sandwiches into shapes — a bunny, a cat face, a snowman, and a dinosaur.

  Shea ate everything practically without chewing it. He just wolfed things down — an apple, a sandwich, a bag of Fritos. He finished his entire lunch before Margo Pike ate a quarter of her sandwich.

  “Margo?” asked Mallory. “Are you feeling okay?”

  Margo nodded. “I’m just eating slowly. Kristy said to.”

  I glanced at Mallory and shrugged. I hadn’t meant for Margo to eat like a snail, but I guessed it couldn’t hurt an upset stomach.

  Fwwwt. Nicky Pike blew a straw paper at Matt Braddock. Matt grinned, grabbed a straw from his sister, blew the paper at Nicky, then returned the opened straw to Haley.

  Haley signed, “Very funny,” to Matt.

  Matt signed back, “I know.”

  Suddenly from the end of one table, I heard the beginnings of a song that I knew could lead to trouble — the hysterical kind of trouble in which a kid may laugh so hard he won’t be able to finish his lunch. Or worse, he’ll lose his lunch.

  David Michael, my own brother, was singing. (I should have known.)

  “The Addams Family started,” he began.

  Andrew giggled, knowing what was coming.

  “When Uncle Fester farted.”

  Shea Rodowsky choked on his Twinkie, then laughed. And Haley Braddock laughed so hard she sprayed apple juice out of her nose.

  “Oh, lord,” said Claudia, looking at Haley. “What a mess.”

  We cleaned up Haley and her apple juice. Then we cleaned up straw papers and napkins and plastic forks.

  “If you guys are done,” I announced to the kids, “please put your thermoses and things back in your bags or lunch boxes. Anyone who’s finished can go play. Quietly, since you just ate.”

  A sea of kids rose from the picnic tables. The only one left was Margo Pike. She was now eating the second quarter of her sandwich.

  Stacey looked at her oddly. But before she could say a word, Margo said, “I’m eating slowly, okay?” She acted as if she’d been asked that question seventy-five times.

  So while Margo ate, the rest of the kids explored the playground.

  “Look! Horsies!” Nina Marshall called to Gabbie Perkins and Jamie Newton. She had found three of those horses on springs. They were painted like the horses we’d seen on the merry-go-round at the carnival.

  “Go easy!” Claudia called to them.

  The older boys found a much better activity. Shea started it. Our groups were completely mixed up again (which was okay, since everyone seemed to be getting along) and Shea, Jackie, David Michael, Buddy, Nicky, and Matt were gathered around two water fountains that were facing each other.

  “Hey!” said Shea. “Look!” He turned the water on, then held his thumb over the stream of water, which sent it in an arc to the other fountain.

  “Cool!” cried Nicky. He tried the trick with the second fountain and sent the water to the first one.

  “Oh, I am so thirsty,” signed Buddy to Matt. He stood by one fountain, opened his mouth, and Matt, catching on, sent a stream of water from the other fountain right into Buddy’s mouth.

  “Whoa, do I ever have an idea,” said Nicky. “But I have to go get Claire. I’ll be right back.” Nicky went in search of his littlest sister.

  He found Margo at the picnic table. “What are you doing?” he asked her.

  “Still eating,” she replied with clenched teeth. She took a teensy bite out of a plum.

  “Well, where’s Claire?”

  Margo pointed to the slide, where Claire was whooshing down headfirst on her tummy. She stopped at the end and leapt to her feet like a gymnast.

  “Hey, Claire! Come here!” called Nicky.

  “Why?” asked Claire warily.

  “Just come.”

  Claire followed him reluctantly to the water fountains.

  “Stand here,” Nicky directed her.

  Claire stood between the fountains.

  Nicky poised himself at one fountain. Buddy was at the other.

  “Now!” cried Nicky.

  Claire was hit by streams of cold water on both sides of her face.

  Jessi went running to the water fountains. “Nicky! Buddy!” she began.

  But before she could get any further, Claire burst out laughing. Water soaked her hair and dripped down her face, but she giggled and exclaimed, “Do it again!”

  The boys, sure they were in trouble, looked at Jessi.

  “Once,” said Jessi. “You may do it once more. Then leave the water fountains alone.”

  The boys sprayed Claire, and she practically fainted from laughter. Jessi smiled but ushered everyone away.

  Margo sat at the table, putting crumb-sized bites of graham cracker in her mouth.

  Nina, Gabbie, and Jamie rocked on the horses.

  By the swings, a small group of kids was gathering. Karen was at the center of them. They were very quiet — except for Karen. I glanced at Dawn. “I better see what Karen’s up to,” I said.

  I crept toward the group until I could hear Karen say, “And they use masks to make the awful —”

  Karen looked up and saw me. I raised my eyebrows at her.

  “To — to, um, make the … Oh, it isn’t impor — My gosh, look at that!” she exclaimed.

  Eight faces turned to see a robin sitting in an ash tree.

  “Big deal,” said David Michael.

  “I’ve seen a thousand robins,” added Haley Braddock.

  “Yeah!” called Margo, still at the picnic table. She took a tiny bite out of her plum, most of which was still uneaten.

  “Boy, are you a slowpoke,” said Jenny, running to Margo.

  “She is not!” cried Claire, rushing to defend her sister. “She was sick.”

  “She’s still slow.”

  “Is not!”

  “Is too!”

  Claire rushed at Jenny, but Mary Anne ran between them, just in time to ward off a fight.

  At that moment, Andrew tripped, fell, and skinned both knees. He burst into tears.

  “You guys!” I said to the other sitters. “I think it’s time to go to Claudia’s. We all need a rest.”

  That’s true. Mallory’s group was in fine shape, while a few others weren’t, but it wasn’t any big deal. Everything was under control.

  Us baby-sitters helped the kids collect their things — lunch boxes and thermoses, plus souvenirs from the carnival. Jamie tucked his squirt gun into his lunch box. Suzi was wearing a hat that made her look like the Statue of Liberty. Myriah was wearing a plastic necklace, and Gabbie was wearing a red bracelet that said Sudsy’s on it.

  “WAHHH!” cried Andrew as we walked away from the playgound. We’d washed his knees at the water fountain, using clean napkins, but they did look a little painful.

  “We can get some Band-Aids at Claudia’s,” Mallory said to me.

  Andrew wasn’t the only one crying.

  “WAHHH!” wailed Jenny and Claire.

  “Keep them apart,” Mallory whispered to Mary Anne. “I’m not kidding. They get along okay most of the time, but when they’re mad, well … ”

  I almost expected Mal to say, “It’s not a pretty sight.”

  Anyway, poor Mary Anne had her hands full between trying to separate Claire and Jenny, and keeping her eye on Margo and her touchy stomach.

  Mallory saved the day, though. We’d just reached the edge of the playground and our criers were still crying. Jamie was starting to get mad about not having won a teddy bear for Lucy (even though he had a balloon for her), and Nicky and Buddy were walking behind Vanessa, trying to see if they could touch her hair without her noticing.

  Trouble was brewing.

  So suddenly Mallory let loose with, “The ants go marching one by one —”

  “Hurrah! Hurrah!” chimed in Nicky and Mal’s sisters.

  “The ants go marching one by one —”

  “Hurrah! Hurrah!”

  “The ants
go marching one by one,” sang Mal, “the little one stops to suck his thumb, and they all go marching down … beneath … the earth.”

  Most of the kids were looking at the Pikes with interest. The criers had stopped crying. The complainers had stopped complaining. The teasers had stopped teasing.

  So the song continued. The kids didn’t know it, but they chimed in when they could. They always had to stop singing to find out what the little one did, though. (Two by two, he has to stop to tie his shoe. Three by three, he falls and skins his knee.) The song occupied the kids all the way to Claudia’s house, by which time we were pretty glad to hear it end. Mallory knew only twelve verses, and we heard each of them a number of times.

  “Just be glad it wasn’t ‘Ninety-Nine Bottles of Beer on the Wall,’” said Stacey, looking pale.

  “Shh!” I hissed. “One of the kids might hear you.”

  At Claudia’s, us sitters went into action.

  I took Andrew into the Kishis’ bathroom, washed his knees again, put some first aid cream on them, and then applied a fat Band-Aid to each one. Andrew liked the Band-Aids a lot.

  “I feel better already!” he announced.

  By the time we were outside again, things were going so smoothly I was amazed. The kids — all of them — were gathered under a tree with Mallory, Stacey, and Jessi, who were singing with them while the rest of us sitters got organized.

  I kept hearing snatches of song, most of them sung by Mallory.

  I heard: “I’ve got sixpence, jolly, jolly sixpence. I’ve got sixpence to last me all my life … ”

  Then I heard: “Oh, we ain’t got a barrel of money. Maybe we’re ragged and funny … ”

  And then: “Won’t you come home, Bill Bailey? Won’t you come home?”

  (Where does Mal learn all this stuff?)

  Finally I heard Jessi and Stacey teach the kids a round: “Heigh-ho, nobody at home. Meat nor drink nor money have I none. Yet will I be me-e-e-e-erry. Heigh-ho, nobody at home.”

  The round sort of got lost because the kids were saying things like, “Heigh-ho, no one’s at my house.” But you could get the gist of it.

  Anyway, while the kids were singing, Dawn, the world’s most organized person, took their bags, thermoses, lunch boxes, prizes, and extra sweaters, and organized them under a tree. When the fathers arrived to pick up their kids, nothing would be missing or hard to locate. Meanwhile, Claudia had found her art materials and was setting them out on the Kishis’ picnic tables. And Mary Anne had found the stack of books we’d borrowed from the library.