Dawn's Big Move

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Dawn's Big Move Page 3

by Ann M. Martin


  I couldn’t believe it. Mom looked hurt, almost angry.

  Richard spoke up. “I can understand your feelings, Dawn,” he said. “It must be hard to be split between your parents.”

  “But what about school?” Mom barged on. “You’ll have to register in a new place, and start in the middle of the year —”

  “Yes, very difficult to do,” Richard said in a soft voice. “Obviously this is something we need to think carefully about.”

  “That’s okay,” I said. “I don’t want to upset everybody.”

  Mom exhaled and shook her head. “I don’t mean to sound so negative, sweetheart. It’s just that — well, it was so hard to see Jeff go back. And now you … I — I’ve tried my best. Is something bothering you here, something we might be able to work out?”

  “Oh, Mom, it’s not you,” I replied.

  “Of course it’s not,” Richard said, giving Mom a hug.

  “Okay.” Mom was trying very hard to smile.

  Boy, did I feel bad. I didn’t think Mom would take it so personally. “Well, I know the arrangements would be a lot of work,” I said, “and if it’s too much, I’ll understand.” (You don’t know how hard it was for me to say those words.)

  “Let me think about it, sweetheart,” Mom replied. “I can tell how much you want to go.”

  Mary Anne hadn’t said a word through all of this. I looked over at her and realized why. She’d been trying not to cry.

  “Oh, Mary Anne,” I said. “I’m not going forever.”

  “I …” Sniff, sniff. “I know. I’m sorry. I — I want you to be happy, Dawn. Really. It’s just that if you go I’ll miss you so m —” Sniff, sniff. “Much!”

  “Well, dears, it’s still a big if,” Mom said.

  Richard rose to his feet. “What do you say we try that tug-of-war again, then go get some pizza for lunch?”

  “Great idea,” I said.

  Mary Anne wiped her eyes. “Sure.”

  Mom walked to the rope and picked it up. She was smiling at me. I think it was the saddest smile I’ve ever seen.

  “Ba ba ba ba ba ba ba,” said Lucy Newton, looking up at Claudia.

  “Oops, here’s your baba,” Claudia replied, gently reinserting a bottle that had fallen from Lucy’s mouth.

  “Seven!” Jamie Newton called out. “Did you see me, Claudia? Seven!”

  “Mm-hm,” Claudia said, smiling. “Great, Jamie.”

  Jamie was perched on his bike with training wheels. He had just completed his seventh round trip on the Newtons’ driveway — his seventh very sloooow round trip.

  It was early Saturday afternoon. Several blocks away, the Drama of Homesick Dawn was going strong. But at the Newtons’ house, Claudia was having a peaceful time, sitting for two of our oldest charges.

  Maybe oldest isn’t the right word. Jamie’s four and Lucy’s not even one. What I mean is, the Newton kids were among our first charges. In fact, Kristy, Claudia, and Mary Anne sat for Jamie before Lucy was born (and before the BSC was invented).

  “Eight!” Jamie shouted.

  “Great,” Claudia said.

  “I didn’t fall!”

  “I know.”

  “Are you watching?”

  “Yes.”

  Claudia is patient, kind, and cheerful. But even Claudia has limits.

  She was going crazy.

  She unfolded a copy of the Stoneybrook News, which was full of articles about Run for Your Money. She tried to read it, but Jamie screamed out a new number in the middle of each sentence.

  At “Thirteen!” Claudia had her big idea.

  She remembered that Stacey was sitting for Charlotte Johanssen nearby, and that Jessi and Mal were at the Pikes’ house. Run for Your Money would be a perfect excuse to get them together (and get Jamie off the bike). She figured a lot of families would be entering, so everyone could use some practice.

  “I’ll be right back!” Claudia called out, rushing inside with Lucy. “Stay away from the street!” As she made her phone calls, Jamie charged ahead to Round Trip Eighteen.

  Well, Jessi, Mal, and Stacey both loved the idea. Claudia felt so relieved, she decided to reward herself. So she took a Milky Way bar from her shoulder bag and tossed it into the Newtons’ freezer. She planned to enjoy the FMW (frozen Milky Way) that night.

  By the time Stacey, Charlotte, and Becca came charging up the driveway, Jamie was on his thirty-ninth round trip, and Claud was on a lounge chair, busily reading about the rules and events in Run for Your Money. (Lucy had had enough. She was sleeping in an outdoor crib.)

  “Forty!” Jamie said. “Forty times up and down the driveway!”

  “Yea, Jamie!” Stacey cheered.

  Don’t encourage him! was what Claudia wanted to say. But she didn’t. “Um, you guys feel like practicing for this Run for Your Money thing?” (Okay, not exactly inspiring, but hey, Claud’s not an athlete.)

  “Yeeeeeahh!” Char and Becca cried.

  “No-o-o-o!” Jamie protested.

  “Can Becca and I run a three-legged race?” Charlotte wanted to know.

  “A three-legged race?” Jamie said. He looked horrified — but interested.

  “Sure!” Claudia said. “Come over, Jamie. I’ll explain it.”

  Success. Jamie decided to join in. Stacey ran into the Newton house to get some rope. Becca and Charlotte grinned at Lucy.

  And that was when a herd of wildebeests stampeded up the driveway.

  Well, that’s what it sounded like. Actually, it was Jessi, Mal, and the Pike kids. But that’s nine people altogether. Nine loud people.

  “HI!” they called.

  “Waaaaah!” Lucy shrieked.

  “I found some rope!” Stacey shouted cheerfully, from the doorway.

  “Oooh, a bike!” said Claire Pike, climbing onto Jamie’s two-wheeler.

  “Nooooooo!” Jamie roared. He ran to Claire and pushed her off.

  “Owwwwww!” Claire cried.

  It took some serious baby-sitting skills to clear up this situation. Claudia fed Lucy, Stacey separated Jamie and Claire, and Jessi and Mal kept the rest of the Pikes out of trouble.

  (As I mentioned before, Mal has seven siblings. There are ten-year-old triplets — Adam, Byron, and Jordan. Then there’s Vanessa, who’s nine. She wants to be a poet, so she likes to speak in rhyme. Nicky is eight, but wants desperately to be ten like his brothers. Next is seven-year-old Margo, followed by Claire, who’s five.)

  When everyone was finally quiet, Claudia said, “Okay, there are a lot of events to choose from. You’ll all be on the same team. In each event, a team from Stoneybrook plays a team from Lawrenceville, okay?”

  “The whole team ties their legs together?” Nicky asked.

  “That’s hard,” Margo said.

  Adam groaned. “I guess you guys took your moron pills this morning.”

  “Listen up,” Claudia replied. “In something like the three-legged race, the officials will record the time it takes each pair to finish. Then they add up the times to find which team was fastest. Now, let’s start by practicing some events, then splitting into teams for a mock competition, okay?”

  About halfway through the explanation, the kids began tying their legs together, in pairs: Adam-Jordan, Mal-Jessi, and Jamie-Claire (who became the Red team); and Byron-Nicky, Vanessa-Margo (who were the Blue team with Becca and Char). Stacey helped each pair tie one person’s right leg to the other’s left. (Adam and Jordan had refused help, and they ended up tying their right legs together.)

  Claudia had the easy job. She sat in a lounge chair, held Lucy, and watched.

  The kids began to practice. Jamie and Claire fell before they moved an inch. Mal and Jessi took it slow, but Jessi kept pointing her toes, which made Mal giggle, so they collapsed. Char and Becca couldn’t stay upright, so they decided to crawl. Byron and Nicky yelled at each other but couldn’t figure out how to move. Adam and Jordan kept running around in circles, laughing their heads off.

  Claudia was giggl
ing so hard, she almost dropped Lucy.

  The kids kept at it for a while. Then they split into teams and held a race. Four pairs were actually able to reach the finish line, in this order: Becca-Char (Blue), Adam-Jordan, Jessi-Mal (both Red), and Byron-Nicky (Blue).

  Well, Jordan was steaming. “You stepped in front of us!” he shouted at Becca and Char.

  “Did not!” Becca replied.

  “No fair,” Byron mumbled, his eyes almost tearful. “Jessi and Mal are sitters, not kids.”

  “Yeah!” Adam shouted. “I call a do-over!”

  “Guys, it’s only a game,” Stacey insisted.

  “Uh, let’s move on to something else,” Claudia said, frantically reading the newspaper article. “How about a … rolling race?”

  This time the kids had to roll to the finish line in pairs — holding hands, with heads pointed toward each other and feet pointing outward. Since the yard is pretty small, they did it two pairs at a time. (Mal and Jessi tactfully stayed out of it.)

  You can imagine what that was like. Byron and Nicky rolled into the Newtons’ garden and squashed three flowers. Becca and Charlotte rolled into each other. Jamie and Claire managed to knock over the bike and get into another fight.

  In the middle of the practice, Mrs. Barrett walked by with her three kids. Instantly the older ones, Buddy and Suzi, replaced Jessi and Mal on the Red team.

  After a few tries, most of the kids finally figured out the rolling. Stacey organized them into races, and Adam and Jordan won. They were the fastest.

  “No fair!” Margo shouted. “They’re bigger!”

  “Yeah,” Nicky said. “We should get a handicap.”

  “But you’ll be racing on the same team,” Stacey reminded them. “This is only a practice.”

  “Uh, how about the leap frog race?” Claudia called out.

  Well, everyone knew how to play leap frog. The teammates lined up and leap frogged in turn till someone reached the finish line.

  When the Blue team won, there was an explosion. “Buddy didn’t jump with both feet!” Becca screamed.

  “Did too!” Buddy protested.

  Even Charlotte was upset. “You did not! You cheated.”

  “Well, Vanessa did the same thing!” Jordan yelled.

  “Liar liar, pants on fire!” Vanessa cried.

  “I don’t want to be in this stupid thing,” Buddy said.

  “Yeah,” Jamie agreed. “I want to ride my bike.”

  “Run for Your Money silly-billy-goo-goo,” Claire mumbled.

  Claudia, Stacey, Jessi, and Mal shared a Look. “What about making up our own events?” Claudia suggested. “Silly stuff, like, I don’t know….”

  “Water-bomb!” Adam bellowed.

  “What’s that?” Margo asked.

  “It’s like hot potato,” Adam said. “Only you use a water balloon. Whoever lets it break is out.”

  “We have balloons in the kitchen cupboard!” Jamie shouted.

  “Wait!” Claudia called out. “We can’t do this without bathing suits!”

  “We’re wearing them already!” Adam exclaimed. “We were going to go to the pool.”

  “I’ll get mine!” Jamie said, running inside.

  “No fair!” Buddy complained.

  “Let’s go see if we can find some rain gear inside,” Jessi suggested.

  “Yeah!” squealed the Barrett kids.

  As they ran indoors with Jessi, the Pike kids stripped to their suits.

  “Stacey, can you keep an eye on Lucy for a minute?” Claudia asked.

  “Sure.”

  Claudia raced inside and found the balloons. She filled four of them in the kitchen sink (not too full) and brought them out. Buddy and Suzi followed, dressed in ponchos, with Jessi close behind.

  The teams lined up and Claudia threw the first balloon in the air. Up it went, all wobbly-looking. And down it came — on Nicky’s head.

  Splooosh! “Owwww!”

  The triplets exploded with laughter. Claudia was sure Nicky would burst into tears. But he said “Oops” and started laughing, too.

  The second balloon ended up watering the next-door neighbors’ lawn. The third rolled under Charlotte’s leg, where it — well, died a wet death. The fourth actually stayed in the air a long time, at least six or seven passes.

  Next came the race of the giants. Each “giant” was a little kid perched on the shoulders of a big kid, with beach towels or old tablecloths wrapped around each pair so they looked like one huge person.

  Jamie’s big idea was the “Baby Jester” contest. Whoever made Lucy laugh the most was the winner. Lucy loved that — until Buddy’s turn. His idea of jesting was a frantic dance, with a frozen grin, flailing legs, and some authentic war screams.

  Lucy was horrified. The contest ended then and there.

  Oh. There was one other event. Teddy bear volleyball. That had ended with little mounds of white cotton stuffing all over the yard, along with a limp Paddington skin.

  A destroyed yard. A traumatized infant. Eleven children with wet clothing. It was one of Claudia’s toughest (and most fun) jobs.

  Well, at least there was that frozen Milky Way to look forward to.

  I had never heard Richard laugh so hard. His face was red. When he hung up the phone, he sat down at the dinner table and said, “That was Jack Arnold. After seeing us this morning, the twins insisted he join the underwear race. So the Arnolds went out and bought boxers for him.”

  “Did they get those cute heart ones?” Mom asked.

  “Nope,” Richard said. “Huge pictures of Garfield. See what we started?”

  Mary Anne put her hand over her mouth and giggled.

  I laughed, too, even though the thought of Mr. Arnold in Garfield boxer shorts wasn’t all that hilarious to me.

  I was being very, very good. I was making sure to seem happy, cheerful, and pleasant. I had already ruined the morning, and I was determined not to talk about California for the rest of that Saturday.

  We’d ordered out for Chinese food that night, which is one of my favorite things to do. The meal was fantastic, and at the end we opened fortune cookies.

  “ ‘You will inherit a great deal of money,’ ” Mom read. “Hey, great! Dinner’s on me.”

  Richard looked up with a dry, disappointed expression. “ ‘A handsome stranger will enter your life.’ ”

  “ ‘Success is one per cent inspiration and ninety-nine per cent perspiration,’” Mary Anne read. “Yuck.”

  I stared at my fortune. I couldn’t believe what it said.

  Have you ever had a psychic experience? You know, spirits and ESP and things like that? Well, I know that stuff is real — and I was getting a signal.

  I cleared my throat, then read, “ ‘You will be going on a long journey to a faraway place.’ ”

  There was a silence. I’m sure it lasted a split-second, but it felt like a long time.

  “Well,” Richard said finally. “Sounds … exotic.”

  “These things are so silly,” I lied.

  “Okay, whose turn to do the dishes?” Mom asked quickly.

  “Mine!” I jumped up from the dinner table.

  I grabbed my plate and carried it to the sink. “Thanks!” I said cheerfully to each family member who dumped a plate on the counter. As I loaded the dishwasher, Mary Anne wandered in and began sponging off the counters. Richard and Mom were bustling around in the dining room.

  “That was so weird,” Mary Anne whispered.

  “Hm?”

  But I knew what she meant. And she knew I knew. When Richard walked in carrying a stack of empty takeout cartons, Mary Anne just gave me a Look. A “We’ll talk later” Look.

  After I finished loading the dishwasher, we ran up to my bedroom and closed the door.

  It was Mary Anne who spoke first. “I guess it’s really going to happen, isn’t it?”

  “I thought I was the only one who believed in fortunes,” I said.

  Mary Anne shrugged. “Well … I do,
too, sometimes. Logan once got one that said he would reach his most desired goal, and the next day he scored a touchdown.” I looked at her blankly, and she said, “You have to go over the goal line to score. See?”

  I plopped down on my bed. I couldn’t hold it back anymore. The words just gushed out. “Oh, Mary Anne, I hope it is true. I mean, I don’t want to upset you or anything, but I feel so … cut off. I want to be there if my dad decides to marry Carol. I want to really spend time with Jeff. I mean, I know he can be a pain, but I love him.”

  I had to be careful talking about Jeff. He visited us a while ago, and it was not a fabulous time. Jeff and Richard didn’t get along, then Mary Anne got angry at Jeff, then I got angry at her…. What a mess.

  “It’s okay,” Mary Anne said gently. “I think you should go.”

  “You do?”

  Mary Anne nodded. “Yes. I’ve been thinking about it. Of course I’ll miss you a lot. But if you stay, you’re just going to feel sad. And seeing you like that would be terrible.” She bowed her head and said softly, “Besides, six months isn’t so long.”

  “Oh, Mary Anne. I promise I’ll write every day —”

  I stopped. What was I talking about? No one had given me permission to go. There I was, all excited, and the whole thing was just a dream.

  “Anyway,” I continued, “we shouldn’t talk about it. What if Mom says no?”

  “What about your dad?” Mary Anne asked. “Have you told him how you feel?”

  “Well, no, not exactly.”

  “Why don’t you call him? He would have to be part of this decision, too.”

  “I guess, but … I don’t know. If I ask his permission, and I haven’t even gotten Mom’s, that would be like going behind her back.”

  “I don’t mean ask permission. Not now. Just talk, Dawn. Tell him how torn up you feel. You can’t just keep this inside.”

  Leave it to Mary Anne. When it comes to emotional things, she always knows what to do.

  I took a deep breath. I looked at the clock. It was 8:27, which meant 5:27 in California. Dad and Jeff would probably be home. If I didn’t call now, I might chicken out.

  “Okay.” I stood up and walked to the top of the stairs. “Mom?” I called. “I’m going to use the phone!”

  “Okay, sweetheart!” she called back. I could hear the TV blaring some classical music. Probably one of Richard’s beloved simulcasts, those concerts they broadcast on TV and radio at the same time. I knew I’d be safe for at least an hour.

 

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