Baby-Sitters Club 027

by Ann M. Martin

  "Are you going to?" asked the boy. "Arrest me, I mean?" Logan looked at us girls. Then just at me.

  I shook my head. "Nope. He's not worth it." (The boy let out a breath he must have been holding for at least five minutes. That's how deep it sounded.) "So let go of him and show him the money," I said. "Let him see what he's missing." Logan grinned. "Sure thing." He opened the envelope and pulled out the Monopoly bills.

  "That's all you'd have gotten away with anyway," I told the kid.

  "That? Fake money?" he cried.

  "Well, it just goes to show," spoke up Claudia. "Crime really doesn't pay." She grinned.

  Everyone laughed except the boy, who looked disgusted. We moved aside and let him escape. He ran through the field the way he had come, and disappeared. The rest of us walked back to my neighborhood.

  Our adventure was over. But where was Tigger?

  Chapter 13.

  That was a horrible thought, but Claudia certainly wasn't the only one to think it. I'd thought of it the very first night Tigger was gone, and it had been hanging over me like a dark cloud ever since. You can't help but wonder about the worst possibilities, yet you tell yourself all along that they could never happen. Anyway, Claudia's notebook entry didn't surprise or offend me.

  It was Wednesday, the day after our rendezvous with the jerky kid in Brenner Field. My friends and I were trying to get back on normal schedules. I wanted to search for Tigger, but I had a feeling it would be pointless. I would just have to keep my eyes and ears open and let the posters do their work. So I was baby-sitting for Kerry and Hunter Bruno again, and Claudia was at the Perkinses'.

  Myriah and Gabbie are really great kids. This is the truth. I knew it from the very first time I baby-sat for them. They adore Laura, their baby sister, they love to sing and dance, and they're very imaginative. Most kids just play house. You should see the games they invent. The afternoon that Claudia was there they played detective games.

  When Claudia arrived, Mrs. Perkins re- minded her where the emergency numbers were posted. Then she gave Claud a few instructions, and she and Laura left. Claudia sat down at the kitchen table, where the girls were having a snack. Her first thought as she sat down was one I always have when I'm at the Perkinses': How weird to think that this used to be Kristy's house. It doesn't look the same from the inside, and it doesn't even feel the same. I guess that's good. It would be too weird if it looked and felt the same as ever.

  Claudia watched Myriah and Gabbie, who were dunking Oreos in glasses of milk. "What do you want to do today, you guys?" she asked.

  "Gosh," replied Myriah, "there are so many things." Claudia smiled. She wouldn't mind being five again. "Like what?" she asked.

  "Like dancing or singing or making up a play." "Sounds like fun. Which do you want to do, Gabbers?" "Mm, let me think." Gabbie put down her glass of milk. "I would like to sing, Claudee Kishi," she replied. (Gabbie calls most people by their full names.) "I would like to sing Christmas songs." "Christmas songs!" exclaimed Claudia. "But Christmas is months away." "That doesn't matter," Myriah spoke up.

  "I guess not," said Claudia.

  Myriah and Gabbie jumped up from the table. "We know 'White Christmas,' " said Myriah. "And I'll Be Home for Christmas" Claudia was surprised. They did? What about the simple songs like "Jingle Bells" or "Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer?" But the Per-kins girls know a lot of long, grown-up songs. And sure enough, they knew both of these, word for word. They performed them with hand motions and everything.

  Claudia was impressed. "Hurray!" she cried, clapping her hands. "Hurray!" The girls took bows. "Thank you, thank you," they said.

  "And now," Myriah went on, as if she and Gabbie were putting on a show, "we will perform that oldy but goody, 'Blue Suede Shoes,' by Mr. Elvis Presley." Claudia was even more impressed. Apparently, Myriah and Gabbie knew an entire rock and roll song - and she didn't. Furthermore, for years Claudia had thought the singer's name was Elbow Presley.

  Gabbie and Myriah ran to their bedrooms.

  They returned wearing black sunglasses and Hawaiian shirts. Then they bopped their way through the song.

  "Hey!" exclaimed Myriah when they had finished, and Claudia had stopped clapping. "Gabbie, you know what we could play now?" "What?" "Hawaiian detectives. We're all dressed for it." "Hawaiian defectives? What are they?" "They're people who live in Hawaii and look for things." "What kinds of things?" "Missing things. Like Tigger." "Oh." Claudia had stood up. She was clearing the kitchen table. She put the dirty plates and cups in the dishwasher. Then she sponged off the counter and tabletop.

  "Claudia?" asked Myriah suddenly. "Do real detectives look for pets?" Claudia had no idea, but she said, "Well, I don't see why not. They look for people all the time. So I'm sure they look for animals, too." "Oh, good." "Come on, Claudee Kishi," Gabbie said, as Myriah led her sister outdoors.

  Claudia followed the girls. As the three of them stepped onto the back porch, they were greeted by joyous woofs. There was Chewbacca, ready to play. He looked as if he wanted to say, Okay, guys. Here I am. All ready. What do we do first?

  Gabbie glanced at Myriah. "Is Chewy going to be a defective, too?" "Yes," replied Myriah. "He is. He will help us find R.C. I mean, Tigger." Claudia smiled. R.C. is the Perkinses' cat. Claudia had a feeling the girls were going on a fake Tigger hunt. She also thought it was pretty interesting that Myriah didn't even expect to find Tigger anymore. Only a Tigger stand-in.

  "Now, Gabbie," Myriah began, as she sat on the lawn with Claudia, Chewy, and her sister, "we are playing a special Hawaiian detective game called 'private eyes.' " "Private eyes?" repeated Gabbie, puzzled.

  "Don't worry about it. They're detectives. A lot of them live in Hawaii." "Why?" "I don't know. They just do. At least on TV. But it doesn't matter. Now, the first thing private eyes do when they've got a case is - " "Go on the swings!" cried Gabble. She jumped up, heading for the swing set.

  "No!" exclaimed Myriah. "Don't you want to play, Gabbers?" And Chewy looked at Gabbie with eyes that said, Oh, please, please, please, please, please stay and play with me! "Okay," she replied and sat down again.

  Claudia pulled her into her lap.

  "All right. There's a missing cat," Myriah began. "I mean, kitten. His name is Tigger. It's our job to find him. Are you ready for that job, Private Eye Gabbie?" Gabbie was poking at a beetle in the grass.

  "Private Eye?" Myriah asked again. "Private Eye?" "You're the private eye," Claudia whispered to Gabbie.

  "Oh, yeah," she said.

  Sometimes we forget that Gabbie is only two and a half.

  "Hmm. Maybe we need one more private eye around here," said Myriah.

  Claudia didn't really want to play detectives, and started to say so, but before she could open her mouth, Myriah said, "Can we see if Jamie can come over?" "Sure," replied Claudia, even though sometimes this is a good idea, and sometimes it isn't. Jamie, Myriah, and Gabbie are good friends, but every now and then they get just a tiny bit wild.

  Claudia walked the girls and Chewbacca over to Jamie's house, spoke to Mrs. Newton, took Jamie by the hand, and then walked everyone back to the Perkinses'. Myriah assembled her team in the backyard. She stood in front of Jamie and Gabbie and said once more, "We have a missing kitten. His name is Tigger. It's our job to find him. Are you ready for that job, Private Eyes?" "Yes!" shouted Gabbie and Jamie.

  "Then let's get going! Spread out, men!" The kids searched the Perkinses' backyard. R.C. was nowhere in sight. "Hey, Private Eye Myriah, can I look in the house?" asked Jamie.

  "Sure," replied Myriah. "Good thinking!" Claudia stood around on the porch, where she could keep an eye on both Jamie and the girls. After a few minutes, Jamie returned triumphantly to the porch, lugging R.C.

  "Good work!" shouted Myriah. "Where did you find him, Private Eye?" "In the bathroom! Napping!" "What are you going to do with him now?" Claudia asked the private eyes.

  "Give him back to Mary Anne," said Myriah.

  "Oh, okay. But Mary Ann
e isn't home now. She's baby-sitting." Myriah looked thoughtful. "If someone really found Tigger," she said slowly, "and Mary Anne wasn't home and neither was her daddy, what would happen?" "I think the person would just wait until someone came home. Don't you? I mean, if R.C. were Tigger - if you'd found Tigger - you'd wait until someone came home, right? You'd keeping calling the Spiers' house, or ringing their doorbell. And when someone finally answered, you'd give Tigger back." "Right," said Myriah. She and Jamie and Gabbie went back to their detective game.

  Claudia sat on the porch and watched them. A funny feeling had washed over her. And that was due to the awful thought she was thinking. What if Tigger were dead? What if he were never coming back? What would I do? Claudia knew my mother had died when I was young. I don't remember her dying, but it had happened, and Claudia didn't want another death in my family. (Tigger definitely counts as family.) Claudia worried and worried. No one she was close to had died. Mimi had gotten very sick when she'd had her stroke, but then she'd recovered, even if she was a little confused now. But Tigger had been missing an awfully long time now, for a kitten. Five whole days.

  Claudia had a bad feeling about things, overall. She wondered if it was too soon to ask me how I'd feel about getting another kitten, about getting a replacement for Tigger.

  Chapter 14.

  "Ah-choo! Ah-choo!" Guess where I was? Back at the Brunos'. Poor Hunter's allergies weren't any better than before. In fact, I thought he sounded worse.

  "Thank you for coming on short notice, Mary Anne," Mrs. Bruno said to me. "Hunter was supposed to see the dentist today, too, but as you can hear, it probably wouldn't be a very good idea. He can have his teeth checked some other time." "Yeah, but us lucky ones still get to go today," said Logan, taking Kerry's hand. "Ah. I just love the dentist." Mrs. Bruno and I laughed, but Kerry shook her brother's hand away. "Mom," she said crossly, "do I have to go the dentist today? I'd rather stay at home." "Honey, you've barely left the house the last few days. Besides, we have an appointment, and there's no reason to miss it." "Hunter's missing it." "Hunter has a reason. He would probably sneeze and bite the dentist." Kerry managed a smile.

  "Okay, Mary Anne, you're on your own," said Mrs. Bruno, heading for the door. "We should be back in a couple of hours." I smiled. "Don't worry about us. Hunter and I will be fine." "Yeah," said Hunter. "Just . . . fide. Ah-choo! Ah-CHOO!" Mrs. Bruno shook her head. Then she and Kerry and Logan left.

  "Well," I said to Hunter, "what do you feel like doing this afternoon?" "Ridig by bike? Doe, that's probably dot - ah-choo! - a very good idea. Ub, we could go up to by roob ad play with by erector set. It's really deat. It has all this space stuff - a ludar bodule ad a bood-bobile." It took me a moment to figure those last two things out, but finally I said, "Oh, a lunar module and a moon-mobile!" "Right." Hunter nodded.

  "Okay. Let's go." Hunter led me upstairs to his bare room. He pulled his erector set out of the closet. We began planning our space station, but right away, Hunter's sneezing grew worse.

  Maybe he's sneezing because of my perfume, I thought. I hardly ever wear perfume, but at school that day, Claudia had dabbed some of hers onto my neck and wrists. I could still smell it. "Be right back," I said. I ran into the bathroom, ripped off a sheet of paper towel, wet it, and scrubbed at my wrists and neck. When I couldn't smell the perfume anymore, I went back to Hunter's room. But before I even entered it, I could hear him sneezing.

  "Ah-choo! Ah-choo! Look, here's the door to the space statiod, Bary Adde," he said when he saw me.

  "Hunter, that's great, but . . . just a sec." I was looking around his room. What could be making him sneeze so much? I closed his windows. Then I closed his door. I laid my sweat shirt against the crack at the bottom of the door to keep dust from coming in. Then it occurred to me that maybe Hunter was allergic to my sweat shirt, so I opened the door and tossed it into the hallway. I thought for a few moments, then took off my socks and shoes and tossed them into the hallway. That ought to do it.

  "Ah-choo! Ah-choo!" Nope.

  "Hunter," I said, "subthig, I mean something, is making you sneeze extra sneezes. I think maybe it's your erector set. You'd just gotten it out when you began sneezing. Maybe the pieces are dusty. Or maybe the box is dusty." "Doe," said Hunter, and he grabbed for a tissue. "Do't bother puttig it away. Ah-choo! It's dot the erector set. I doe what's bakig be sdeeze. Ah-choo! Cub od. I'll show you." Hunter led me into Kerry's room. What was he going to show me? A little dust bunny under her bed? No, he opened Kerry's closet. He motioned to me.

  "Ah-ah-ah-ah-AH-AH-CHOOOO!" Hunter sneezed the biggest sneeze I've ever heard from a five-year-old. "Look id the box," he managed to say.

  Then Hunter backed away and I stepped into the closet. On the floor was a large cardboard carton. I peered inside. Down at the bottom was . . . Tigger! I gasped. "Tigger!" I cried. "Oh, Tigger!" I lifted him out of the box gently, as if he would break, and cradled him in my arms. Then I held him up to my face and felt the start of his Tigger-purr against my cheek. "Have you been here all along?" I whispered to him. I turned to Hunter. "Has he been here all this time?" But before Hunter could say a word, I turned back to Tigger, "Oh, I missed you so much. I really did. I thought you were, um," (I glanced at Hunter) "I thought you were . . . hurt. But, oh, it doesn't matter. I missed you!" Tigger was nuzzling my arm, and I felt as if I never wanted to put him down, but then I noticed Hunter. He was sitting on Kerry's bed, sneezing practically nonstop, a raggedy tissue in his hands.

  "Oops," I said. "Tigger, I really hate to do this, but I'm going to have to put you back in the box. Later this afternoon, though, you're going to come home with me." "Is he yours?" asked Hunter as we left Kerry's room.

  "Yes," I replied. For good measure, I closed her door behind us. Then I went to the bathroom and washed my hands and arms and face. I couldn't believe that I was abandoning Tigger, even if it was only temporarily, but he looked fine, and Hunter came first. After all, I was baby-sitting.

  As you might imagine, I had an awful lot of questions. So I decided to talk to Hunter. The two of us sat at the kitchen table. (I thought the kitchen was probably the most dust-free room on the first floor.) Hunter wasn't much help, though.

  "How long have you known Tigger was here?" I asked him.

  "Just sidce this bordig. I foud him by accidet. Kerry said dot to tell iddybody she has bib. She says they'll be bad because of by allergies. But I just had to tell subbody." "You did the right thing," I told Hunter. "Does anyone else know Tigger's here?" Hunter shrugged. "Do't doe." "How did Kerry get Tigger?" "Do't doe." "Did you know Tigger's my kitten?" I asked.

  "Doe. Dot till you picked hib up ad every-thig." "Does Kerry know he's my kitten?" Hunter shrugged again.

  "Well, Logan certainly knows he's my kitten," I said.

  "But I do't doe if Logad dows he's here." "Oh. Right. . . . Hunter, you know I'll have to tell your mom about Tigger, don't you?" I added. "Even though Kerry might get in trouble." Hunter nodded. "I doe." He looked worried and relieved at the same time.

  It seemed like hours, of course, before the Brunos came home. That always happens when you're waiting desperately for something. But at last they arrived. And they were in pretty good moods. Nobody, it turned out, had had a single cavity, so they were going to celebrate.

  But they were waiting for a day when Hunter was feeling better, and when Mr. Bruno could join them.

  "How did everything go, Mary Anne?" Mrs. Bruno finally asked.

  I couldn't see anything to do but to come right out with the truth. Hunter and I glanced at each other nervously. He knew what was coming.

  "Mrs. Bruno," I began, and suddenly I found that I couldn't look at Logan. If he had known about Tigger all this time, then . . . then we couldn't be friends anymore. We just couldn't. "Mrs. Bruno, today Hunter couldn't stop sneezing, so I went looking for whatever was making him sneeze so much and - and there's a kitten in Kerry's closet!" This wasn't a lie, but it didn't point the finger at poor Hunter. He'd been r
ight to show me Tigger, and I didn't want Kerry calling him a tattletale.

  "A kitten!" cried Mrs. Bruno.

  I finally glanced at Logan. He looked surprised. But was he surprised that a kitten had been found in Kerry's closet, or just surprised that Kerry had been found out?

  "Yes," I said, "a kitten. And - and he's my kitten. He's been missing for five days. We've been searching for him everywhere." "Tigger is in Kerry's closet?" Logan exclaimed.

  All Mrs. Bruno could do was cry, "What?" and head for the stairs. Logan, Kerry, Hunter, and I followed her. When she reached Kerry's room, she flung open the door, raced for the closet, slid the box out, and exclaimed, "There is a kitten!" "And it is Tigger," added Logan.

  As if he didn't know, I thought.

  Hunter began sneezing again, so Mrs. Bruno told him to go downstairs. Then she looked at Kerry. "Well," she said, "I think we have a little talking to do." Kerry nodded miserably, her eyes on the ground. She sat on her bed and Mrs. Bruno sat next to her. Logan and I kind of stood around, unable to look at each other.

  "How did you get Tigger?" Mrs. Bruno asked.

  "I - I just found him," replied Kerry. "And I didn't know he was Tigger then. Honest. I was riding my bike home last Friday and it was getting dark. Remember? The weather wasn't very nice that day. And I was a few houses away from Mary Anne's and I thought I saw something shiny by the side of the road. So I stopped. And it was this kitten. Its eyes were shining. I thought, Poor kitty, no one's taking care of you. So I just put him in my bike basket and rode him home. I wanted to have a friend. And I wanted to show you and Daddy that I could care for a pet. I really am responsible enough to do that. Look how well I cared for Tigger." Kerry jumped up. She began pulling things out of the closet. "See? With my own money I bought this food and this toy and these dishes and I never once forgot to feed Tigger. Or change his water. He's my friend." Even I had to admit that Tigger looked well cared for.