Baby-Sitters Club 057

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Baby-Sitters Club 057 Page 8

by Ann M. Martin


  "Save a tree!" "Write the President!" "Kids care!" It was Saturday, the day of our Green Fair, and you could hear the kids calling from their booths all the way down the street.

  I'd slept at Stacey's the night before, so we could get up bright and early to make sure the booths were ready. We'd set the alarm for six o'clock but we were wide awake before that.

  The fair was scheduled to begin at ten. At five to, Stacey clutched my arm in a panic. "What if nobody comes?" That was something I hadn't even considered. For one brief second my pulse raced with fear. Then I said, "We've got thirteen kids involved and they all have parents who are coming. Then there's the BSC - they promised to be here." "What if too many people come?" Stacey gasped. "My yard isn't that big!" I draped my arm over her shoulder. "Stop worrying. Things are probably going to go wrong, but if we stay calm we can handle them." Moments later I had to eat my words as a gust of wind lifted the Kids Care button booth four feet in the air and dropped it in a heap around Karen, Andrew, and Suzi.

  "Help!" Karen cried. "We've been smushed." The booth, which was really just a couple of cardboard refrigerator boxes stapled together, had ripped apart. Large pieces of cardboard lay on the ground.

  "Our booth is ruined," Suzi Barrett wailed.

  "No, it's not," Stacey said.

  "Yes, it is." Andrew grumbled as he dragged the button making machine out from under the cardboard. "No one will want to come to it." "Now what kind .of an attitude is that?" I said as I tried to prop the booth back up. "All we need is a little tape and a staple gun, and this booth will be as good as new." Fortunately for us, Mallory and Jessi entered the yard just as the accident happened. Mal overheard me and shouted, "One staple gun and a roll of tape, coming right up." She sent Byron back to their house for the supplies, then brought the rest of her brothers and sisters over to join us.

  "Wow!" Mal cried to Karen, Suzi, and Andrew. "I saw that wind lift your booth off the ground and spin it around. It looked like The Wizard of Oz, when Dorothy's house flies through the air." "The Wizard of Oz?" Suzi's blue eyes widened. "Really?" Jessi nodded. "Absolutely. It looked like magic." "Magic!" the kids repeated. Then they turned to look back at the battered booth.

  "It did feel sort of magical," Karen whispered to the others. "One second the air was still and the next a strange gust of wind lifted us up to the clouds." "Yeah," Andrew answered in a hushed voice. "We were flying." "Flying?" Adam Pike scoffed. But before he could say another word, Mal cupped her hand over his mouth.

  "Our booth must be the most special one at the fair," Suzi Barrett concluded.

  By this time Byron was back with the supplies and the kids could hardly wait to repair their "magical" booth.

  I mouthed a grateful thanks to Mal, who shrugged and said, "It was nothing." While Stacey helped to fix the button booth, I glanced around to make sure none of the other booths had blown over. Stacey's backyard was already starting to fill with people. I noticed Claudia Kishi standing with Jamie and Lucy Newton in front of Linny and David Michael's demonstration booth. Linny was using grand gestures as he talked, when suddenly he stopped speaking and shouted, "Oh, no!" I hurried across the lawn to see what had gone wrong. By the time I arrived the two boys were involved in a heated argument.

  "I thought you were going to bring it!" David Michael said.

  "No, you were supposed to bring it," Linny replied.

  "Hey, you guys, cool down," Claudia said. "There's no need to fight." "What's going on?" I asked.

  David Michael poked his finger at Linny. "He was supposed to bring the celery for our It Came from Underground demonstration." "I was not," Linny said, shaking his head violently. "He was supposed to bring it." "Why do you need celery?" Jamie Newton asked the boys.

  "Because we want to show that polluted water also wrecks the trees," David Michael explained.

  "You're going to show that with celery?" Jamie looked dubious.

  "Sure," David Michael replied. "You see, we get this glass of water and we put red food coloring in it." "That's the pollution," Linny explained.

  "Then we stick the celery, which is supposed to represent a tree, in the water." "And then what?" Jamie asked.

  "Then comes the really cool part," Linny said. "You can actually watch the red water climb up the stalk of celery." "That sounds neat," Jamie said to Claud. "I want to see." David Michael scowled. "Well, you can't because he forgot the celery." I held up my hands. "Now let's not start that again. If all you need is a stalk of celery, Stacey's probably got a ton of it in her refrigerator. Linny, why don't you run inside and ask Mrs. McGill to give you a stalk? And while you do that, David Michael can demonstrate the buried treasure experiment." The boys looked at each other for a second, and then smiled. "Okay." "How's it going?" Claud whispered as David Michael began his speech.

  "We're off to a shaky start," I replied. "But I think everything's going to be just fine." "You're getting a good crowd," Claud pointed out. "Look, Mary Anne brought the twins." Marilyn and Carolyn, who are identical eight-year-olds, stood side by side in front of Charlotte and Becca's shopping bag booth. Each was busily decorating her own canvas bag. Mary Anne stood a little distance away, talking to Mrs. Addison, who had brought her daughter Corrie to the fair.

  After checking to make sure Nicky and Vanessa's letter writing campaign was under control, I joined Mary Anne. She greeted me with a hug. "This fair is fantastic. You and Stacey are geniuses." "Mary Anne's right," Mrs. Addison added. "I'm overwhelmed at all the good information that's being handed out here." Before I could reply, Marilyn and Carolyn joined us. "Look, Mary Anne," Marilyn called, holding up her bag. "I decorated this myself." On her bag the words, I Saved a Tree were written in pink and blue paint across one side. Marilyn had glued little sequins to the word "tree." On the other side of the bag she had painted her name.

  Carolyn rushed to Mary Anne, clutching her own bag, which was painted green and yellow. "Did you know that paper bags are made from trees? And one fifteen-year-old tree makes seven hundred bags?" "Wow!" Mary Anne said. "That's a lot of bags." Marilyn shook her head. "But it's really not. Because a grocery store can go through that many bags in one hour." Carolyn held up her bag. "That's why it's important to use canvas bags." Mrs. Addison, who was admiring the bags, asked, "Where did you learn all that?" Marilyn and Carolyn turned and pointed. "At the shopping bag booth. Melody and Hannie told us." "That's amazing," Mrs. Addison exclaimed.

  I squeezed Mary Anne's hand. "Isn't it? I'm so proud of the kids. They're all doing so well." "You should be proud," a familiar voice said. "I've been watching a demonstration on how to make tree feeders, and I can't wait to go home and make one myself." I spun around and found myself face to face with my science teacher. "Mrs. Gonzalez!" I gasped. "I'm glad you could come." Mrs. Gonzalez smiled. "I wouldn't have missed this for the world." "Dawn!" Bill Korman shouted from his booth. "Dawn, come quick!" "Oops," I said. "It looks like trouble's brewing at the wild animal booth. Excuse me." "If you don't mind," Mrs. Gonzalez said, "I'll go with you." My heart sank. I expected to find something terribly wrong at the boys' booth.

  But when Mrs. Gonzalez and I got there, Bill and Buddy were grinning from ear to ear.

  "What's the matter, Bill?" I asked.

  "We just sold ten bird houses," Buddy cried with glee.

  "What's wrong with that?" I asked.

  "Nothing," Bill replied, looked slightly confused. "We thought it was great news." "Yeah," Buddy added. "Do you know how much money we've made?" Stacey, the math whiz, came up beside me and answered, "Twenty dollars. Great work, guys!" Bill pointed to the line of kids forming in front of their booth. "At this rate, we'll make a hundred dollars by the time the fair's over." "That's a lot of money," Mrs. Gonzalez said, obviously impressed. "What do you plan to do with it?" "We're going to give it to an environmental organization," Stacey explained. "But we haven't chosen one yet." Suddenly I got an idea. "I know which one I'd like to give it to," I said to Stacey. "But I want to talk it over with you first."
Stacey smiled at me. "Whichever one you choose is fine with me." "Are you sure?" I asked, "I mean, I don't want to be pushy or anything." Stacey giggled. "You're not being pushy. Who do you want to give it to?" I dug my toe in the ground as I talked. "I've done a lot of thinking. You know, the world has a lot of wonderful ecological organizations like The Environmental Defense Fund and Greenpeace, but one of the lessons I've learned over the past six weeks is that helping the planet begins at home. So . . ."I took a deep breath. "I move we donate the proceeds from our Green Fair to Stoneybrook Middle School's recycling project." Stacey smiled. "That's a great idea. I second the motion." "All in favor?" I asked. Then we giggled as we said, "Aye." Stacey turned to Mrs. Gonzalez. "Okay, it's official. The money from our Green Fair will go to the recycling project." "That," said Mrs. Gonzalez, "is the best idea I've heard today." Chapter 15.

  "Thirty pages!" Stacey gasped as the copier machine at the print shop churned out our report for Mrs. Gonzalez. "Can you believe it? This is practically a book!" As the pages came out of the copier, I separated them into two neat piles. "It would probably have been longer if we had included the extra research we did on rain forests." We were making two copies of our report because Stacey and I were in different classes. We had also decided to include a one page essay on what we had learned individually from participating in the project.

  "I hope Mrs. Gonzalez is impressed by this," Stacey said as she handed me a green cover. I'd chosen the color to represent the earth and the green trees. Stacey's cover was blue, which she said represented the oceans and clean drinking water.

  "She better be impressed," I replied. "Just typing this took a whole week." After Stacey and I had attached the covers to our reports, we went over to her house to celebrate. Her morn had bought us a bottle of sparkling cider just for the occasion.

  Stacey popped the cork and poured the cider into two of her mother's expensive Waterford crystal glasses. We took our drinks into the living room and then I proposed a toast.

  "Here's to you," I declared, holding up my glass. "For putting up with bossy old me for six weeks." Stacey raised her glass. "And here's to you, for thinking up the best project in the whole school." We clinked glasses and Stacey added, "I hope we get an A." "Of course we'll get an A," I said, after taking a sip of my cider. "We deserve it." But when I turned in my copy of the report the next morning, I didn't feel nearly as confident as I had the night before.

  "What if she says my report's too long?" I whispered to Amelia after I placed my report on Mrs. Gonzalez's desk.

  "Who knows? It might be too short," Elizabeth replied. "Did you see Pete Black's report? It's so huge, it must weigh five pounds." "Maybe my essay is all wrong," I mumbled to myself as I hurried back to my desk.

  I spent the next seven days worrying about that report. I know that sounds silly, especially after all the work Stacey and I had done. It was my essay that worried me the most. Stacey told me she had written her essay on how she planned to stay involved in the ecology movement in the future. I didn't even mention the word ecology or pollution in mine.

  The following Monday, Mrs. Gonzalez appeared in science class with a stack of papers in her arms. Everyone knew what they were - the reports. But she didn't hand them out right away. She made us suffer first. Then during the last ten minutes of class she passed them back to us.

  My hands were shaking so much I could barely open mine. All around me I heard excited cries and disappointed sighs, as people saw their grades. But still I couldn't bring myself to open the cover. I finally got up the nerve when the bell rang. I squeezed my eyes shut and, quick, flipped open the cover. I couldn't believe what I saw.

  Written in bright red ink was the letter A. Next to it was this note from Mrs. Gonzalez: "Your project was superb and this report is excellent. Carefully thought out, well-executed, and a delight to read. Especially the essay. Please see me after class - I'd like to talk to you." When I looked up from my paper, I discovered I was the only student left in the classroom. Mrs. Gonzalez was standing in front of her desk.

  "Well?" she asked. "Are you happy?" "Am I happy?" I repeated. "I could jump for joy!" "Go ahead," she chuckled. "No one's watching, and I won't tell." (In case you're wondering I did not jump, but I did do a lot-of squealing with happiness - later on, when I told the rest of the BSC at lunch. And that was because of what Mrs. Gonzalez said to me next.) "Dawn," she began, taking a seat, "I know you were disappointed when the school chose me to head the recycling center." I started to protest, but Mrs. Gonzalez said, "It's okay. I would have been upset, too. After all, it was your idea." I looked down at my hands. "Well, maybe I was a little disappointed." "I have a proposal that I'd like to put in front of the student body. Mr. Kingbridge thinks it's a good idea. All we need is for the students to say yes." "What is it?" "I'd like you to co-chair the recycling program with me." I couldn't believe my ears. "Really?" Mrs. Gonzalez nodded. "That means we split everything - good and bad jobs alike - fifty-fifty. It would also mean that you'd have to give up a lot of Saturdays so you could supervise the project." "That's fine with me," I said. "When do we start?" "As soon as the students vote on it." "Oh." My shoulders drooped. "I don't think they'll want me, not after the way I've behaved." "I'll admit you were a little overexuberant at first," Mrs. Gonzalez said carefully.

  "My friends said I was obnoxious," I blurted out.

  That made her laugh. "Well, maybe just a little bit," she admitted. "But it was for a good cause. Besides, you've changed." "Do you really think so?" I said hopefully.

  "I can see it and so can the students. So what do you say?" "Well . . . sure," I replied. "And I'll keep my fingers crossed that they'll want me." "Oh, they'll want you," Mrs. Gonzalez assured me, patting my hand. "I haven't a single doubt about it." Well, after getting an A on my report, plus the offer to co-chair the project, I was flying. At lunchtime I raced all the way to the cafeteria. Stacey was waiting to greet me.

  "We did it!" she cried.

  I wrapped my arms around her and squealed, "We got an A!" "Of course, you got an A," Claud said matter-of-factly from behind us.

  "Absolutely!" Kristy set her hamburger and fries on the table and slid into a chair. "Your project was pure genius!" I waited until Mary Anne and Logan joined the table to make my big announcement. "Mrs. Gonzalez asked me to co-chair the recycling project." "Yes!" Mary Anne squealed.

  "All right!" Kristy said, giving me a high five.

  "Don't get too excited," I warned them. "The school has to vote on it first, and you know what happened last time." "That's all in the past," Claud replied. "This time I'm sure they'll elect you." "I hope you're right," I said. "Mrs. Gonzalez said that after reading my essay, she'd decided I'd changed for the better." "What did you say in your essay?" Stacey asked, raising a piece of celery to her mouth. "I never read yours." "Well, I titled it Saving the Planet - You Can't Do It Alone. Then I described how working on the project turned me into a bossy jerk. I said how I got so self-righteous and obnoxious that no one, not even my friends in the Baby-sitters Club, wanted to help me." I smiled at Stacey and added, "I also mentioned what a saint you were for putting up with me." "Oh, Dawn! "That's not true." "Your paper sounds more like True Confessions than an essay," Claudia said. "Did Mrs. Gonzalez like it?" "She loved it. She especially liked the ending where I wrote - "I pulled my report out of my book bag and, flipping to the last page, read out loud, "I've discovered that in order to make big changes in the world we have to begin at home - within ourselves. Now that I've begun to clean up my own act, I think I'll be better equipped to help others clean up the world." "Gee, Dawn," Mary Anne said after a few moments of silence, "that was really great." "It's the truth," I said with a shrug. "I mean, look at the BSC. It's a success because we work together." I looked around the table and realized how proud I was to have such good friends. "And when you work together, you can do almost anything. Even save a planet." About the Author ANN M. MARTIN did a lot of baby-sitting when she was growing up in Princeton, New Jersey. Sh
e is a former editor of books for children, and was graduated from Smith College.

  Ms. Martin lives in New York City with her cats, Mouse and Rosie. She likes ice cream and 7 Love Lucy, and she hates to cook.

  Ann Martin's Apple Paperbacks include Yours Turly, Shirley; Ten Kids, No Pets; With You and Without You; Bummer Summer; and all the other books in the Baby-sitters Club series.

  Table of Contents

  BSC057 - Dawn Saves the Planet

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