“Yeah!” said Tyler and Morgan.
After a few minutes, Quint and his parents said good-bye and left Stacey and me alone with Morgan and Tyler. “How about a trip to the zoo, you guys?” asked Stacey. She and I had already planned to take the kids there, since we both love zoos.
“All right!” said Tyler
“Will we see the monkeys?” asked Morgan.
“Absolutely,” said Stacey. She and I helped the kids find their jackets, and then we set off. Stacey led us down Central Park West to a park entrance near Tavern on the Green, which is this really fancy restaurant.
I was taking my second walk through the park in one day, but I didn’t mind. There’s so much to see in Central Park. I bet you could walk through it every single day and see new things each time. But even though the park is beautiful and full of interesting people and places, I couldn’t totally relax and enjoy it. I was nervous about being out in the city without Quint. What if Frank and Red had watched Stacey and me and the kids leave the Walters’ apartment? What if they were following us? I could be putting Morgan and Tyler in danger. I kept glancing over my shoulder, checking to make sure the two men weren’t behind me.
Luckily, we were walking through this huge field called the Sheep Meadow, and there wasn’t much cover for Frank and Red to duck behind if they were following us. I was able to rest easy for a few minutes and watch the people who were flying kites and playing softball.
After a while, we walked under a big arch. “That’s Playmates Arch,” said Stacey. “It’s called that because it leads to the playing fields.”
All of a sudden, Morgan grabbed my hand. “Jessi!” she said. I jumped, since I was feeling jittery to begin with.
“What?” I asked. “What’s the matter?”
“I hear the carousel,” she said. “Can we go on it?”
I calmed down. “Sure,” I replied, digging into my pockets for change. “Let’s go buy tickets for you and Tyler.”
“I don’t want to go on the dumb carousel,” said Tyler. “That’s for little kids.”
Stacey and I grinned at each other, remembering a time when the entire BSC had visited New York. We had fallen under the spell of the carousel, and we had a great time riding on it. “I’ll go with you, Morgan,” I said.
“Me, too,” said Stacey.
Tyler looked at us. “You’re going on it?” he asked. “Well, I guess I might as well, too.” He looked happy, even though he was trying to sound bored and sophisticated. And when we climbed onto the merry-go-round’s horses, which are almost as big as real horses, his face lit up and he looked as excited as any other kid on the ride.
I chose a white stallion with a purple-and-red saddle, trimmed in gold. And during the ride, I happily pretended he was real. I even gave him a name: Charger. I love horses, all horses. Even the ones carved out of wood.
But when the carousel stopped and we hopped off, reality came flooding back. I was not a beautiful damsel with her own white stallion. I was Jessi, in the big city, mixed up with a pair of jewel thieves. I followed Stacey as she led us toward the zoo, but I started to glance behind me again, every few steps.
“There’s the dairy,” said Stacey. “In the olden days cows really got milked in there. Isn’t it awesome to think that this spot — where we’re standing right now — used to be the country?”
“Yeah,” I replied, distractedly.
“Jessi,” said Stacey, looking at me closely, “are you feeling all right?”
“I’m fine,” I said. Just then I caught a glimpse of red over Stacey’s shoulder, and my eyes widened. Was it Red? No, it was just a balloon, bobbing along over a baby stroller.
“What’s the matter, Jessi?” Stacey asked.
At that moment, I wanted to tell her everything. I just couldn’t keep the mystery a secret any longer. “I’ll tell you,” I said. “But let’s get to the zoo, first. I don’t want the kids to hear this.”
We were passing under the Delacorte Clock then, and Tyler and Morgan were gazing up at it, hoping to see the animal band. That clock is so neat. Every half hour, this mechanical six-piece animal band circles around while it plays a tune. Plus, there are two monkeys on the top that bang little hammers on the bells.
Several minutes later, we arrived at the zoo. Stacey had been giving me curious looks, but she hadn’t asked any more questions. She was waiting patiently for me to explain why I’d been acting so weird.
The Central Park Zoo re-opened recently after being closed for a long time while the city fixed it up. It’s a neat place to take kids to, since it’s not all that big. Stacey told me that you can see all the animals in about an hour. We brought Morgan and Tyler straight to the Sea Lion Pool, and they ran to the railing and started to make up names for each sea lion. “That one’s Waldo,” cried Morgan.
“And his wife, Winifred,” added Tyler.
Stacey and I sat down on a nearby bench so we could talk and watch the kids at the same time. “Okay,” she said. “What’s going on?”
It all came flooding out. I told her everything, starting with the fight Quint and I had seen the night before. Well, I told her almost everything. I couldn’t quite bring myself to admit why I’d wanted to go to the Palm Court.
Stacey gazed at me, wide-eyed. “Wow,” she said. “Jewel thieves!”
I’d expected her to be mad at me for getting involved, but she seemed more interested than mad. She asked me about every detail, and wondered out loud what Frank and Red might be planning. I should have remembered that every member of the BSC loves mysteries!
Morgan and Tyler finally tired of the sea lions, so we walked around the rest of the zoo. We saw the monkeys, which live in the Temperate Territory, and we visited the Tropic Zone, which is like a miniature rain forest. My favorite spot was the Polar Circle, with its huge penguin tank and a polar bear floe.
By the time we had seen everything in the zoo, we were exhausted. We decided to take a cab back to the Walters’, which meant we would be the first ones home.
“The light’s blinking!” yelled Tyler as soon as we walked into the apartment. He rushed over to the answering machine that sat near the phone. “I want to listen to the messages,” he said.
Stacey and I looked at each other and shrugged. “Okay,” I said. “Go ahead.”
He punched a button and I heard the tape rewind. Beep, said the machine. Then I heard Stacey’s father’s voice. “This is a message for Stacey,” he said. “It’s three-thirty, and I’m leaving the office now. I’ll be home by the time you get there. See you, boontsie!”
Stacey blushed when she heard him call her by the nickname he gave her when she was a baby.
The machine beeped again, as if another message were coming up. But all I heard after that was a series of clicks. Tyler looked at me and shrugged, and I shrugged, too. But a moment later, when he and Morgan had gone into the kitchen to rummage for a snack, I turned to Stacey. “Do you think the phone has been tapped?” I asked. “I bet that’s what those noises mean.”
“You mean Frank and Red —” she began, but just then Mr. and Mrs. Walter came home, and Quint was a few seconds behind them. I didn’t want to upset Quint right before his performance, so I didn’t say a word about the phone. Anyway, Stacey and I had to head back to the East Side to change and get ready for a night out in the Big Apple!
I am very thankful to Mary Anne for the way she handled Becca that day. All of the BSC members are great sitters, but none of us is as sensitive as Mary Anne. She’s the only one who could have helped Becca with what she was going through.
Mary Anne and Mal were sitting for all the Pike kids — plus Becca — on Saturday afternoon. (While I was running around in Central Park, they were running around the Pikes’ backyard!) It was a beautiful day in Stoneybrook, and the Pike kids had spring fever. Everybody was outside in the yard.
The triplets and Nicky were throwing a softball around, playing “hot potato.” In that game you have to catch the ball and then throw
it again as soon as you can. The players stand in a circle, and the ball goes back and forth. There were wild throws now and then, and Mary Anne was keeping a close eye on the game to make sure none of the wild throws went anywhere near a window. The triplets have broken windows before, playing softball. The last time they did it they decided to keep quiet about which one of them had thrown the fateful ball. All three of them were grounded.
Claire and Margo were playing hopscotch on the driveway. They’d drawn a pattern in the shape of a seashell. “No fair!” yelled Claire, as Margo breezed through numbers one through five. “I only got to three!” Soon after, Margo touched the ground as she picked up her pebble, and Claire settled down and took her turn.
Vanessa was wandering among the tulips, composing an Ode to Spring. “How fair their little faces are, the flowers of the Spring,” she muttered to herself, “turned up to catch the sunbeams that the elves and fairies bring.” She smiled vaguely when Mal told her the poem sounded nice. Vanessa was off in her own little world.
Mal and Mary Anne sat on lawn chairs, with their own faces turned up to catch sunbeams. “Isn’t it great to sit outside without even having to wear a sweatshirt?” asked Mal.
“It sure is,” said Mary Anne. “Now all we have to put on is sunscreen.” They’d made sure the kids were wearing some. Mary Anne glanced over toward the apple tree. Becca was sitting under it, looking forlorn. “How’s Becca been doing?” she asked.
“Well, she’s a little better,” replied Mal. “She isn’t crying all the time, and this morning she actually ate a bowl of cereal with strawberries on it. But she’s still pretty unhappy. She keeps walking around with this ‘poor little me’ face on.”
“I feel sorry for her,” said Mary Anne. “I mean, not only is her whole family away, but Charlotte’s away, too. And even though she’s here with you guys, nobody can take the place of her family and her best friend.”
“I know,” said Mal with a sigh. “Everybody’s been making an effort to be nice to her, but she just keeps moping around, and they want to have fun.”
“I think I’ll go talk to her,” said Mary Anne. “I hate to see her sitting there all alone.” She walked over to the apple tree and sat down next to Becca. “Hi,” she said.
“Hi,” said Becca, softly.
“Don’t you want to play hopscotch?” asked Mary Anne. “Or softball?”
Becca shook her head and didn’t say a word.
“Maybe you and Vanessa could pick some flowers and make a bouquet for Mrs. Pike,” Mary Anne suggested. “Mothers like that kind of thing.”
“My mother loves flowers,” said Becca. “But she doesn’t love me.” She sniffed, and a tear worked its way down her cheek.
Mary Anne winced. How could she have said something so dumb? “Of course she loves you,” said Mary Anne. She reached over and stroked Becca’s arm.
“Uh-uh,” murmured Becca. “She doesn’t. If she did, she wouldn’t have gone off and left me all alone. Daddy doesn’t love me either, and neither do Jessi or Aunt Cecelia. Squirt loves me, but they made him go off and leave me, too. I’m all by myself.”
“Oh, Becca,” said Mary Anne. “You know that’s not true. Everybody loves you, and they’ll be back soon. In the meantime, you’re not alone. Look at all the people in this yard!”
Becca looked up. “They’re a family,” she said. “I’m all by myself, but they’re a family. They have a mommy and a daddy who love them, and they love each other.”
Mary Anne couldn’t stand it anymore. “Becca, come sit on my lap,” she said. “I think you need a big hug.”
Becca crawled into Mary Anne’s lap, and Mary Anne gave her a bear hug. Becca started to cry. “I’m not going to stay here anymore where nobody wants me,” she said, between sobs. “I’m going to run away.”
“Run away?” asked Mary Anne, surprised. “Where to?”
“To my house,” Becca said. “I’ll wait there until my family gets back.”
Mary Anne thought for a moment. Becca seemed very determined, as if she’d been thinking over this idea for a while. And even though Mary Anne knew the plan was ridiculous, she decided to play along for a while. As sitters, we’ve learned that sometimes this is the best way to let children find out for themselves that their ideas may not be practical. “Do you have a key to your house?” Mary Anne asked.
“A key?” asked Becca, looking surprised. “No, I don’t. And I’m sure the house is all locked up. I didn’t think of that.” She was quiet for a moment, and then her face brightened. “It doesn’t matter,” she said. “I’ll just camp out in the backyard. Charlotte and I have been talking about doing that for a long time. It’ll be fun.” She sounded like she was trying to convince herself. “Will you help me get some supplies and things?” she asked Mary Anne.
“Sure,” said Mary Anne. “Let’s see, what will you need?” She ticked off items on her fingers. “Sleeping bag, flashlight, pillow —”
“Cookies,” added Becca. “Lots of cookies. And I’ll bring my Little Mermaid bag, with all my stuff in it.”
Mary Anne nodded. “Good idea,” she said. “How about if you go inside and start getting everything together?”
Becca seemed to take it for granted that Mary Anne would help her. It didn’t seem weird to her at all that her baby-sitter was helping her “run away.” It would almost have been funny, Mary Anne told me later, if it weren’t so sad. Mary Anne sent Becca inside to pack her Little Mermaid bag. Then she filled Mal in on what was happening. “I’m sure she’ll get halfway down the street and turn around,” said Mary Anne. “As soon as she realizes that sleeping outside by herself is going to be even lonelier than being here.”
But Becca was already a step ahead of Mary Anne. A few minutes later, when she was sitting on the porch surrounded by her “camping supplies,” Becca turned to Mary Anne and said, “I think I’ll be lonely out there all by myself.”
Mary Anne agreed, relieved to hear that Becca was already realizing how impractical her plan was. But Becca wasn’t ready to give up yet.
“So will you come with me?” Becca continued.
What could Mary Anne do? She’d been playing along, and now she was going to have to go even further. “Um, okay,” she said. She went back to Mal for a conference. The two of them talked the situation over, and decided to call Dawn to see if she’d come over and take Mary Anne’s place at the Pikes’. That turned out to be fine with Dawn, so before long Mary Anne and Becca were on their way.
As they walked along with their supplies banging against their knees, Becca talked excitedly about returning to her own house. “I’ll be able to sit on the back porch if I want to,” she said. “And tomorrow morning I’ll wake up in my own yard. And then when everybody comes home, I’ll be there waiting for them. They’ll be surprised, won’t they?”
Mary Anne nodded. “They sure will,” she answered.
When they arrived at the Ramseys’, Mary Anne and Becca headed for the backyard and set up their camp. It was late in the afternoon by then, and beginning to grow dark. Becca lay down on her sleeping bag to try it out. “This is pretty comfortable,” she said. “Right?”
Mary Anne was lying on another sleeping bag. “Well …” she replied, “I feel a rock underneath my back. But I’m sure I won’t notice it when I fall asleep.”
“Do you think it’s going to get really, really dark out here?” asked Becca, in a subdued voice.
“It’ll be dark, all right,” said Mary Anne. “And we might hear some funny noises. But I don’t think there are too many dangerous wild animals around here, so we’ll probably be safe.”
“Wild animals?” asked Becca. She was silent for a few minutes. “You know,” she said finally, “I feel a rock under my back, too. I don’t think I’m going to sleep well tonight.”
“Oh, well,” said Mary Anne. “That’s what camping out is like sometimes. Now, how about some yummy dried fruit? That’s all we have for dinner. Too bad we couldn’t bring along any of t
hat lasagna Mrs. Pike told Mal to warm up for dinner.”
“Lasagna?” Becca asked in a tiny voice. “I love lasagna.”
Now Mary Anne was quiet for a little while. Then she spoke up. “You know,” she said in a whisper, as if she were about to confess something to Becca, “I’m kind of scared about sleeping out here all by ourselves.”
“You are?” asked Becca. “Me, too!” She paused, and then said, “Maybe you won’t mind very much if we don’t camp out after all. I think maybe I’d rather go back to the Pikes’.”
Mary Anne smiled. “That sounds fine to me. I bet they’ll be glad to see you.”
She and Becca sat up on their sleeping bags and talked for a while about how it feels to be left out or left behind. Mary Anne told Becca about a time in third grade when her father had gone away on a business trip, and how lonely she’d felt then. By the time they returned to the Pikes’, everybody was sitting around the dinner table, about to dig into a delicious-smelling pan of lasagna. They greeted Becca as if she’d been gone for years, and Becca looked happier than she had all weekend. Mary Anne had saved the day.
I fastened my mom’s jet necklace around my neck and turned to face Stacey. “How do I look?” I asked.
She gave me the thumbs-up sign. “Awesome. That black velvet dress is perfect for you. And I love the way you braided your hair. Quint’s going to think you look gorgeous.”
I hadn’t told Stacey — or anyone else — about my plans for The Talk with Quint. Somehow I felt very private about it. And, in fact, I’d nearly forgotten about it with all the excitement. Now I vowed to have The Talk after Quint’s performance, which was drawing closer. In a few minutes I’d be on my way to Juilliard, and within a couple of hours the program would be over. Then it would be T-time.
I tried to put it out of my mind. I wanted my attention to be focused on Quint and his dancing that night. This was a very special event for him, with a large, sophisticated New York audience. I wanted to watch every step he danced so I could talk to him afterward about the program. I knew he’d want to hear my opinion.
Jessi and the Jewel Thieves Page 6