"Jamie," said Claudia, growing suspicious.

"No, I meant my - my Beary Bear," he said, s.n.a.t.c.hing up a stuffed animal.

"That was three things, Jame-o," Claudia pointed out gentlyf "Time to go upstairs now."

"Can I wear my Paddington Bear pyjamas, Claudy?" asked Jamie.

"Sure," replied Claudia, glad he was actually thinking about bed.

- "Good," said Jamie, "'Cause they're in the wash."

"Then I'm afraid you can't wear them." Claudia led Jamie back upstairs.

"But you just said I could."

"I didn't know they were in the wash when I said that. You can't wear them if they're dirty."

"Let's wash them," suggested Jamie.

"Sorry. That'll take too much time. We'd have to dry them, too."

"How long would it take?"

"Too long."

"How many minutes?"

"Twelve hundred and forty-nine," replied Claudia.

"Wow," said Jamie.

Claudia and Jamie tiptoed past Lucy's room and into Jamie's. Claudia pointed to his bed. "Look," she said. "Mommy laid out your farm pyjamas."

Jamie made a face. "I don't want to wear them. They're for babies. They have baby stuff all over them."

Claudia looked at them. They were sort of babyish. "Let's choose a different pair then." She opened his bureau and brought out two more pairs. "Which ones?" she asked. (She was careful not to say, "Do you want to wear either of these?" Jamie might have said "No.") Jamie pointed to one pair.

"Great," said Claud. "Okay, off with your shirt." She waited for Jamie to raise his arms so she could slip his shirt off.

"I'll do it myself," said Jamie. "You leave."

"Leave!" exclaimed Claudia. Jamie was too young to be getting modest. "How about if I turn my back?"

Jamie considered the offer. "Okay/' he said at last. "But don't peek."

Claudia sat cross-legged on Jamie's bed, facing the wall. The room grew very quiet. Claudia studied the pattern of the wallpaper. "Jamie?" she asked after a minute or two had gone by.

No answer.

"Is it all right if I turn around to see how you're doing?"

Silence.

Very slowly, Claudia swiveled around.

Jamie was gone.

"Jamie!" Claudia cried as loudly as she dared. (She didn't want to wake Lucy.) Claudia ran through the hallway, pausing to peek into the bathroom. No Jamie. She ran down the stairs and into the kitchen. No Jamie. She ran down the last flight of steps and into the playroom.

"Hi-hi!" said Jamie brightly, but he looked a bit sheepish. He was riding a toy car and was still fully dressed.

"James Anderson Newton. You were sup- posed to put your p.j.'s on," said Claudia. "I'm beginning to lose my patience. Now go back to your room, please. And this time I'm not going to turn my back."

Jamie scowled, but he did as Claudia said. When he was finally in his pyjamas, Claudia tucked him in bed.

"Oops," he said. "I forgot to brush my teeth. And I ate cookies after dinner. Cookies have sugar, and sugar makes calories in your teeth."

Claudia had to smile. "Cavities," she told him. "All right. Into the bathroom."

Jamie scampered down the hall. (Claudia had the sense to follow him.) Standing at the sink, he squeezed about a yard of toothpaste onto his brush and worked it around in his mouth, creating a great amount of foam. He rinsed and spat six times. Claudia waited patiently.

When he was done, he dashed down the hall and leaped into his bed.

"How about a story?" asked Claudia.

"Oops," said Jamie. "I forgot to go to the bathroom." He ran down the hall again, and returned a few minutes later.

"Now," said Claudia. "How about a story?"

"Oops," said Jamie. "I forgot to get a drink of water."

'Til get it," said Claudia. "You stay right here. Don't move a muscle."

Claudia filled a paper cup with water and brought it to Jamie. He was sitting in exactly the same position as he'd been in when she'd left the room. She handed the cup to him.

Jamie didn't reach for it.

"Here you go," said Claudia.

"An I oove?" asked Jamie, barely moving his lips.

"What?"

"An I oove?"

"Can you move?"

"Yeh."

"Of course you can move."

"But you said 'don't move a muscle.' "

Claudia sighed. "I just meant don't go anywhere. And you didn't. Here. Drink your water."

Jamie took the cup and drank.

"All right," said Claudia. She pulled a book off his shelf. "Let's read Harold and the Purple Crayon."

Claudia read the story to Jamie. When she was finished he said, "Now can we read Make Way for Ducklings?"

"Oh, Jame-o," said Claud. "I'm sorry, but that one's too long."

"Please, please, please? Pretty puh-kase with a cherry on top?"

Against her better judgment, Claudia gave in. It took nearly a half an hour to read the story because Jamie kept interrupting her to ask questions.

"But," he said, as Claudia was closing the book, "why did Mr. Mallard leave Mrs. Mallard and the ducklings all alone?"

"He was waiting for them at their new home."

"Oh. How come Michael called all the policemen?"

"Because," replied Claud, "the duck family needed help. Now into bed."

Jamie crawled under the covers. He asked for another drink of water . . . and another. Finally he seemed sleepy.

Claudia tiptoed downstairs and settled herself in front of the TV. She'd been watching for about five minutes when she heard a voice behind her say, "But how come Mr. Mallard just waited on the island? And can I have another drink of water?"

Y<>

Chapter 11.

"You know what I think?" asked Mary Anne dreamily.

"What?" I replied.

The two of us were lying on our backs in the hayloft in the barn. The day was stickily warm and sunny, and I could see particles of dust floating through the sunshine that streamed through the cracks in the walls. It was only the third time Mary Anne had ever been in the barn. She's such a 'fraidy cat. Just because the barn is a little rickety.

As if reading my thoughts, she went on, "I think I'm too afraid of things."

I couldn't disagree with her.

"And being afraid always makes things worse than they really are. I was afraid of boys before Stacey and I went to Sea City. I was afraid of making new friends before I met you."

"You were afraid of the barn," I pointed out.

"Yup," Mary Anne glanced through the copy of Sixteen magazine that was lying between us.

"Are you feeling braver now?" I asked her.

"Sure," she said ^bsentmindedly. "Gosh, look at this kid Cam Geary. Isn't he adorable?"

"Yeah. . . . How brave are you feeling?"

"Pretty brave. I wish Cam lived here in Stoneybrook."

"How'd you like to prove to me just how brave you've become?"

"Huh?" Mary Anne finally dragged her eyeb.a.l.l.s away from Cam Geary.

"I said, 'How'd you like to prove how brave you've become?' "

"What do you mean?" asked Mary Anne suspiciously.

"I've got a great secret to show you."

"You do?"

"Yes. But you're going to have to be very, very brave. Come on!" I jumped up. "Come in the house with me and we'll get flashlights."

"Flashlights?" repeated Mary Anne. "Whatever this is - I guess it has to do with the dark?"

"Right. But you're not afraid of the dark, are you?"

"No. I'm afraid of all the things I can't see that the dark is hiding."

"Oh, Mary Anne. I thought you said you were getting so brave."

"Yeah, well ..."

I couldn't admit that I wasn't feeling particularly brave myself. What I wanted to do, of course, was show Mary Anne the secret pa.s.sage. I hadn't had the nerve to go in it, let alone talk about it, since the night I'd read about Jared Mullray. I wanted someone to come with me. I also wanted someone to be able to share the amazing secret.

I got to my feet and picked up the magazine. "Let's go," I said, trying to sound enthusiastic. "You are in for the surprise of your life."

Mary Anne and I climbed out of the hayloft. We went into our house and found a couple of flashlights. Then I led Mary Anne to my bedroom.

I had decided to enter the pa.s.sage from the house instead of the barn. For one thing, seeing my wall swing open was a lot more dramatic than shoving in the dusty old trapdoor. For another, it was a lot less scary. And if we left the wall open, it would let some light into the pa.s.sage.

"Okay. Get ready," I said. I pressed the molding and the wall began to open up. I turned around to watch Mary Anne's reaction.

It was worth it. All she was able to do was let her mouth drop open, cover it with both hands, and stare.