Baby-Sitters Club 027

by Ann M. Martin

  As we left the meeting, my excitement grew. But all of a sudden, I felt terrible. How could I feel excited? What was the matter with me? If Tigger were home, where he belonged, I'd have nothing to feel excited about. I'd just have Tigger, which is the way it should be. And I'd trade a little excitement for Tigger any day.

  Chapter 11.

  Dawn didn't say so, not in her notebook entry, but she was pretty spooked herself. It was just that kind of night. The Barrett kids were upset about pet-nappers, and then the storm came.

  The Barrett kids are Buddy, Suzi, and Marnie. Buddy is seven, Suzi is four, and Mamie is only a year and a half. Dawn has sat for them for quite awhile; since not too long after she moved to Stoneybrook. She likes them a lot - even though at first they were the "impossible three." Boy, did they give Dawn a hard time. But now they're much better. Buddy, who is active and lively, likes to play with Pow, their dog. Suzi likes to play pretend games. And Marnie just tries to keep up with her older brother and sister. The best thing, though, is that their mother is more organized than she used to be. (Mr. and Mrs. Barrett are divorced.) Dawn's mother is pretty disorganized herself - she's apt to put the socks away in the bread drawer. But Mrs. Barrett used to do things like forget to clean the house, or give Dawn the wrong phone number for wherever she was going while Dawn was sitting. But now she's much better. She got a job she likes a lot, and she's been trying really hard ever since then.

  "Hi, Dawn!" Suzi greeted Dawn happily at the door. "Mommy said I could let you in." Dawn entered the Barretts' house, closing the door behind her. "A storm is blowing in," she told Suzi. "It's all windy, and I can smell rain in the air." Suzi found this hysterical. "A storm is blowing in?" she repeated. "You can smell rain in the air?" "Yup," replied Dawn.

  Marnie toddled in from the kitchen. She stared shyly at Dawn, even though Dawn has sat for her so many times.

  "Where's your mom?" Dawn asked Suzi. "And where's your big brother?" "Mommy's upstairs and Buddy's downstairs. With Pow. He's guarding him." "Guarding him? A guard-human and his dog?" said Dawn.

  "I guess so," replied Suzi, not understanding. "It's so Pow won't get bassett-napped. That's what Buddy said." Very curious, thought Dawn. Pow is a bassett hound, that much she knew. Everything else Suzi was talking about was a mystery to her.

  At that moment, Mrs. Barrett came flying downstairs. (She's usually in a rush.) "Hi, Dawn!" she said breathlessly. "Suzi, wash Marnie's face, please." Suzi took Marnie into the kitchen and began to wash cookie crumbs off of her face.

  "I'm just going to be at the office," Mrs. Barrett continued. "Special project. You've got my office number. I should be home by nine-thirty." "Perfect," said Dawn.

  "The kids should go to bed as follows: Marnie, now; Suzi, eight o'clock; Buddy, nine o'clock. No more snacks for anybody, and Buddy is allowed to watch Dragon Warriors on TV tonight. He asked me about it earlier, and I couldn't make up my mind. You can give him the good news. It comes on at eight." "Okay," Dawn replied.

  Mrs. Barrett left in a hurry, Marnie crying behind her. Dawn picked Marnie up and talked to her. "Your mommy's coming back. Your mommy's coming back," she kept telling her. "When you wake up tomorrow morning, guess who will be here - Mommy!" "Dawn, will you help me guard Pow?" asked Buddy. He had placed Pow in an elaborate-looking box on which he'd drawn gears and levers. He had also wrapped string around it, stuck things to it with tape, and labeled it "Basset-Napping-Proof." "I will as soon as I've put Marnie to bed," Dawn replied. "Is that okay? I'll be down in a little while." "Anything's okay as long as you're not a bassett-napper," said Buddy.

  So Dawn took Marnie upstairs. She gave her a bath, since Marnie loves baths.

  "Moy? Moy baff?" Marnie kept asking, as Dawn played with her. (That's Marnie-talk for, "More bath?") "A little more," replied Dawn. "Look. Here are Bert and Ernie. They're in their boat. They're sailing over to ... Big Bird!" Marnie laughed. Soon, though, Dawn was tired of boats and Big Bird, and Marnie's fingers were looking pruny, so Dawn lifted her out of the tub and dried her off.

  "Okay, bedtime," she announced.

  Marnie began to whimper. But when she'd been tucked into her crib with her animals and her blanket, she looked quite happy.

  "Good night, Marnie-O," whispered Dawn. She turned out the light and tiptoed out of Marnie's room, leaving the door open a crack. At the head of the stairs, she stopped and listened.

  Nothing. Good. Marnie would fall asleep quickly.

  Two flights down in the family room, Dawn found Pow still in his box. "So what is this?" she asked Buddy and Suzi.

  Buddy was sitting by the box, facing in one direction, Suzi was sitting by it facing in the other. Both kids looked scared yet determined.

  "We're guarding," Buddy replied. "We're not going to let Pow get dog-napped the way Tigger got kitten-napped. We heard about the letter Mary Anne found in her mailbox. We know about the kitten-napping." Thank goodness they didn't know about Brenner Field or our plan.

  "You heard?" exclaimed Dawn. "How? I mean, who did you hear it from?" "Matt Braddock signed it to me." (Matt is deaf. He communicates with sign language, which most of his friends know.) "Who did he get the news from?" Dawn asked. Maybe that would be a clue to the mystery.

  Buddy frowned. "Nicky Pike. Nicky said Jamie Newton told him." "Oh," said Dawn. Darn. No clue there. "So you heard about the note," she continued.

  "Yup," answered Buddy, and Suzi nodded her head vigorously.

  "And you've protected Pow," Dawn went on.

  "Mm-hmm. We built him this special nap-proof box. We don't want him to get napped, too," said Suzi.

  "Bassett-napped," Buddy corrected her.

  "Or Pow-napped," Dawn added.

  "Right," agreed Buddy. "Anyway, you know what happens sometimes? Sometimes bad guys come into a neighborhood and start going around pet-napping. Mostly they take dogs and cats. They're easier because they're outdoors. And then they sell them to people who want nice pets, and the real owners of the animals never see them again." "Unless there's a good detective," said Suzi, "and he finds the bad guys." "Buddy, Suzi," Dawn said, "I really don't think you have to worry about this." "Yes, we do," said Buddy firmly. "Some- times there's a - a rash of pet-napping in a neighborhood." "I just don't think that's going to happen here." "It might." "How long are you going to keep Pow indoors in this box?" asked Dawn.

  Buddy frowned. "I don't know." "How about a compromise?" Dawn suggested. "A compromise between you and Pow. Buddy, you agree that Pow doesn't have to stay in the box, and Pow will agree to go outside only when you take him - until tomorrow afternoon. After tomorrow we'll know if Tigger was really kitten-napped. If he was, there could be trouble. If he wasn't, then the note was just a joke and you won't have to worry." "How come you'll know that tomorrow?" asked Buddy.

  "We just will. Trust me," said Dawn.

  "Well . . . okay." Buddy lifted Pow out of the box and Pow took off, looking as if he'd been released from prison.

  "Suzi-Q," Dawn began.

  "Oh, no! Please! Just ten more minutes," begged Suzi, before Dawn even said the word "bedtime." "Sorry. It's too close to eight o'clock. We better start now. Say good night to Buddy and Pow. Then we'll go upstairs. I think we'll have time for a story." "Okay." Reluctantly, Suzi said good night to Buddy, then found Pow and kissed his floppy ears.

  Once Dawn and Suzi were in Suzi's bedroom, everything was fine. Suzi changed into her nightgown and got ready for bed. Then she chose a book to read - Millions of Cats. They read it twice. At last Dawn stood up.

  "Okay, Suzi-Q. Time to go to sleep." "No," said Suzi, but her eyes were already half closed.

  "Sleep tight," whispered Dawn, as she turned out the light.

  "Okay." Suzi's reply was so faint that Dawn could barely hear it.

  Dawn dashed downstairs. The time was 8:05, and she'd just remembered something. "Buddy!" she called.

  "Yeah?" Dawn found Buddy in the playroom. He was about to open up his junior chemistry set. Perfect timing, thought Da
wn. "Guess what," she said. "I forgot to tell you. Your mom said it's okay to watch Dragon Warriors." "You forgot to tell me, and I forgot about the show!" Buddy laughed. "Thanks, Dawn." He abandoned his chemistry set, jumped up, turned on the TV, and was glued to it for the next half hour.

  At eight-thirty, he went upstairs. Recently he has decided that he likes to get ready for bed on his own, and then put himself to bed. So he did just that. Dawn trusted him.

  After he'd left, she sat in the playroom, the TV off, listening to the storm. The wind had picked up again and it howled around the house. Dawn could see lightning and hear great claps of thunder, but no rain was falling yet.

  Dawn loves a good storm, but she was a little spooked - by the Tigger-napping, and by Buddy's stories of rashes of pet-nappings. Would a pet-napper, she wondered, try to break into a house to steal a dog? A bassett hound, for instance?

  CRASH went the thunder! In a flash, Dawn had picked up the phone and called me. We talked until she felt better. We talked about my dad and her mom. (No dates planned.) Then we talked about Logan.

  "Poor guy," said Dawn.

  "Poor guy?" I exclaimed. "He's being impossible. He's unpredictable, and he certainly hasn't been very understanding or sympathetic lately." "He's having a hard time on the ballfield." "He is?" "Well... he did once, anyway. I happened to be watching practice, and he dropped a ball that he'd caught and had right in his mitt. The coach yelled at him, and his teammates teased him." "So he had a bad day." CRASH! CRASH! Lightning lit up the sky at the same time the thunder sounded.

  "Dawn?" I said. "We better get off the phone. My time is up and I don't think you're supposed to use the phone during an electric storm." Dawn sighed. "Okay." We hung up, both of us wondering what the next afternoon would bring.

  Chapter 12.

  How I made it through school on Tuesday is beyond me. All I could think about was Tigger, and our plan for the afternoon. What had we gotten ourselves into? Were we in any danger? I didn't really think so, but you never know. Maybe we were fooling around with ex-cons or something. But Logan was right - the culprit was probably a kid. And I hoped he had taken Tigger, so I could have him back.

  At lunch that day, Kristy, Claudia, Dawn, Logan, and I sat together at a table that was as far from the crowded ones as possible. (Jessi and Mal eat during a different lunch period.) We had decided not to discuss the Tigger-napping at school, just in case the wrong person should overhear something, but Logan wanted to go over the details of our plan once more.

  "Mary Anne?" he said. "You fixed the envelope?" I nodded. "It's just a regular letter envelope. It looks like it's full of bills, though. I put in Monopoly money - fifteen tens, so it's not too stuffed." "Good. And you know what to do today?" "Every step of the plan." "Great. The rest of you - you have your hiding places picked out?" "Yup," replied Kristy. "And we'll meet up with you so I can show you your hiding place. Oh, and Mary Anne, you know where I'll be hiding, right?" "Yes. In the tall grass behind the sycamore tree." I needed to know Kristy's hiding place so I could hide with her after I returned from pretending to go home. That way, she could give me news, if there was any, about what had happened after I'd left the envelope. I could have hidden with Logan, but he wanted to be alone in case he had to rush out and do something daring. What he didn't realize was that if he did, I'd join him in a second, followed by all the other members of the Baby-sitters Club.

  We stick together.

  At any rate, our plans were set.

  "And now," said Kristy, "we better not talk about this anymore. We should just be our regular Baby-sitters Club table having lunch.

  So in that case, anyone care for some fish eyes and glue?" she asked, holding out her dish of tapioca pudding. I know my face turned green.

  That afternoon, we all went home in whatever way we usually would, except for Kristy, who walked home with Claudia, pretending she was going over to her house for the afternoon. It was easier than going to her house and then having to come all the way back to our neighborhood.

  When I reached my house, I let myself inside and pounced on the envelope I'd fixed up. I was so afraid it would be missing. (What was the big deal? I'd get another envelope and put some more Monopoly money in it.) I think I was just worried about what might happen in Brenner Field - and soon.

  I looked at my watch. Three-thirty. My friends were probably already hidden.

  Three forty-five. With trembling hands, I picked up the envelope. It was time to go. I had to be at the big rock by four o'clock.

  I left my house, locking the door behind me, and got on my bicycle. Bicycling would be a quicker way to travel when I was pretending to come home later. Then I turned onto the street, rode past Jamie's house, stopped by a wooded area, and locked my bike to a tree. Clutching the envelope, I walked through the grove and entered Brenner Field. It was damp and muddy in places from the storm the night before. I couldn't see any of my friends. I knew they were there, but they must have been awfully well hidden.

  I had to pretend I was alone, though, so I just walked through the field, heading straight for the rock. When I reached it, I looked around. Was Tigger's kidnapper somewhere nearby? Was Tigger nearby? I saw nothing.

  I laid the envelope on the rock. I put a smaller rock on top of it to keep it from blowing away. Then I left. I walked right back through the field the way I'd come, unlocked my bike, rode home, and put the bike away.

  I waited for five very long minutes. Then I dashed across the street, through Claudia's yard, through several other yards to Jamie's, and approached the field from a different direction.

  Bending over to keep low, I ran to Kristy's hiding spot, a tree in the middle of the field. I sank down against the trunk and looked hopefully at Kristy.

  "Good work," she whispered. "I think. I mean, everything went smoothly. Let's just hope no one saw you come back. But nothing happened while you were gone." "Darn," I replied.

  Puff, puff, Pant, pant. I worked at getting my breath back.

  Kristy and I peeked around the sides of the sycamore tree. We could just barely see the big rock. We stared at it. We stared and stared and stared.

  Half an hour went by.

  "1 guess it was a joke," I whispered at last. "Maybe someone thought we'd think the note was funny, or that we wouldn't believe it." "Maybe Sam did it," suggested Kristy glumly.

  Just as she finished speaking, I saw a flash of red across the field.

  "Look!" I cried softly, pointing.

  Kristy's head snapped up.

  The two of us jerked to attention. We watched as a boy stepped into Brenner Field. He looked from left to right several times, as if he expected to see something ... or someone. Then he shaded his eyes and stared toward the big rock.

  "His hands are empty," I whispered to Kristy in disappointment. "He doesn't have Tigger with him." Kristy made a sad face but didn't say any- thing, since we were supposedly being as quiet as possible.

  The boy crept through the field, looking from left to right and behind him.

  Suddenly I gasped.

  Kristy looked at me around the back of the tree.

  "That's the kid I met when I was putting up posters," I whispered indignantly. "He's the one who pretended he'd seen Tigger." Kristy frowned. We returned to our watching.

  The boy reached the big rock. He saw the white envelope with the stone on top, brushed the stone away, and pocketed the envelope. He didn't even look inside it. Then he began to walk off.

  "Hold it!" someone shouted.

  Logan leaped out of the hiding place Kristy had shown him. He ran for the boy, but the boy raced away.

  In a flash, we were all after the kid. Logan caught up with him first and grabbed him. Then the rest of us - all six of us - surrounded him.

  "Where's Tigger?" I demanded.

  "Tigger?" the boy repeated.

  "That's right." "I don't know what you're talking about." "You mean you can't remember those posters you watched me put up?" Kristy, standing next to me, was
smiling. I could imagine her saying, "Way to go, Mary Anne." I don't usually stand up for myself.

  "Oh, um," stammered the boy, "yeah, those posters. Now I remember. Tigger is a missing . . . skunk?" "Kitten," replied Logan through clenched teeth. "And where is he?" "Where is he?" "Yeah. You've got your envelope," said Logan fiercely. "Now give us Tigger." "After I see what's in the envelope." Logan moved as quickly as a striking rattlesnake. One second the envelope was in the boy's hand, the next second it was in Logan's. "Give us Tigger and I'll give your money back," he said.

  I widened my eyes. All this for Tigger? (And maybe for me?) "Give me the money and I'll tell you where Tigger is," countered the boy.

  "No way," said Kristy. "And remember, it's seven against one." "And we can wait around all afternoon. All night, if necessary," added Jessi.

  The boy scowled. "Okay, okay," he said.

  Ill Goody, I thought. Now comes the part where he tells us where Tigger is.

  "I don't have your stupid cat," the boy went on. "I just said I did so I could earn some fast money." "You little - "I began, but Dawn put her hand on my arm. I knew she meant, Don't let him know he got to you. I changed course. "What a stupid thing to do!" I exclaimed. "It didn't work, did it? You got caught, and now you look like a fool!" "Whoa," said Kristy under her breath.

  If the boy could have backed up then, I think he would have. But he turned round and saw Mallory blocking his path. No way out. He began to look scared.

  "What's your name, kid?" asked Logan.

  "I - I'm not telling. I mean, why do you want to know?" "Do you know that what you did is a felony?" I have no idea whether this is true, since Logan can make things up pretty easily, but it sure sounded good.

  "It is?" "Yes. And in the state of Connecticut, it's punishable by twenty-five to fifty years in the slammer. Even for juvenile offenders." Now I knew Logan was just talking. He loves to use cop-show words like those.

  "We could make a citizens' arrest," Logan went on. He looked around at us and we nodded as if to say, The seven of us are in agreement on eyen/thing.