Jessi's Wish.

Ann M. Martin.

Chapter 1.

"Whing, whing. Whing, whing." That's Squirt-talk. It means, "Swing, swing. Swing, swing." Squirt is my baby brother. He doesn't say many words yet, but he loves to swing, so he made up a word for that pretty quickly.

I am Jessica Ramsey, known as Jessi. I'm eleven years old. My family and I live in Sto-neybrook, Connecticut, a small town. We're sort of newcomers, since we arrived near the beginning of this school year, when I was starting sixth grade. I have a mom and a dad; a sister, Rebecca; and of course Squirt. Both of my parents work. They like their jobs a lot. In fact, Dad likes his so much that when his company told him he was being transferred to the branch office in Stamford, Connecticut, he picked up and moved us Ramseys to Stoney-brook, which is near Stamford. (We used to live in New Jersey.) Rebecca is eight. Just as I go by the nickname Jessi, she goes by the nickname Becca. Becca is a neat little sister. She has a sense of humor and a good imagination, although she's shy. Sometimes I think she's too sensitive. Maybe she needs to develop a thicker skin. On the other hand, if she weren't so sensitive, she might not be so kind and thoughtful. Here's an example of what makes Becca special. You know how most kids partic.i.p.ate in some kind of after-school activity? Like sports or dance lessons or Brownies or Cub Scouts? Well, when Becca decided to try an activity for the first time, she joined the Kids-Can-Do-Any-thing Club at her school, Stoneybrook Elementary. The club (which the members refer to simply as the Kids Club) is for boys and girls ages eight, nine, and ten, and its purpose is to ... help others. The kids think of ways to help out in the community. Then the two teachers, who volunteer their time to run the club, help the kids carry out their plans. The kids have done all sorts of things. They cleaned up the trash in an empty lot so the mayor could put a park there. They collected food for people who wouldn't have had a Thanksgiving otherwise. And now they were working on a toy drive. They were collecting new toys to give to the children's ward at the hospital. Becca always comes home from a Kids Club meeting with a huge smile on her face.

There are two other members of our household. One is Misty, our hamster. The other is Aunt Cecelia. She moved in to watch Squirt and to give us a hand when Mama went back to work. Becca and 1 used to call her Aunt Dictator. That was right after she moved in, when she didn't really understand my family. She was so strict and mean. But now she is much nicer, and we all get along pretty well. The one thing 1 don't like about Aunt Cecelia is that she still seems to think she's my babysitter. And I'm already a baby-sitter! Before Aunt Cecelia came, 1 was always taking care of Becca and Squirt. Now 1 don't have the chance very often. Which is a shame because 1 love to baby-sit and (sorry for bragging) I'm really good at it. I'm good enough to be part of a business called the Baby-sitters Club.

Today, though, I was sitting. It was a weekday afternoon. Mama and Daddy were at work. And Aunt Cecelia had made plans with some friends. So I was in charge of Squirt. And as soon as Becca returned from her Kids Club meeting I would be in charge of her, too.

Squirt had stopped singing "Whing, whing." In fact, he held his arms toward me.

That meant he wanted to get out of the swing. I lifted him up and set him on the ground near our swing set.

"Come on, Squirt. Walk to me!" My brother is beginning to toddle around. It's a good thing he wears about nineteen diapers. They provide a nice cushion for when he suddenly sits on his bottom, which happens about every ten wobbly steps he takes.

"Da!" cried Squirt, and hurtled himself into my arms.

I heard a clank in our garage then and realized that Becca had come home from school. (The clank was the sound of the kickstand on her bicycle hitting the cement floor.) A few moments later, she rounded the corner into our backyard.

"Hi, Becca!" I called, "Hi." Becca's eyes were downcast. She didn't smile. She didn't even greet Squirt, whom she loves as much as I do. (In case you're wondering, Squirt is not my brother's real name. His name is John Philip Ramsey, Jr. But when he was born in the Oakley, New Jersey, hospital, he was the smallest baby in the nursery. It was the hospital staff who first called him Squirt, and the name has stuck, even though Squirt isn't much of a squirt anymore.) "Is something wrong?" I asked Becca. "Something with the toy drive?"

Becca dropped her schoolbag on the ground and sat on the end of the slide. "No," she replied, "the toy drive is going really well. Bellair's gave us one hundred dollars' worth of new toys." (Bellair's is Stoneybrook's department store.) "That's great!" I exclaimed. "So why do you look like you just lost your best fr - ?" 1 stopped talking. Maybe Becca had just lost her best friend. Maybe she'd had a fight with Charlotte Johanssen. Having a fight with a friend is never fun, but for Becca it would be a crushing blow. First of all, she doesn't make friends easily. Second of all, moving to Sto-neybrook was difficult for my family; not just because of who we left behind in New Jersey (our relatives and good friends), but because not everyone in Stoneybrook accepted us in the beginning. That was because my family is black, and only a few black families live in Stoneybrook. People thought we were "different." But now we've settled in and made friends. However - had something happened between Becca and Charlotte?

"Did you and Char have a fight?" 1 asked.

Becca looked shocked. "A fight?" she squeaked.

"Well, you're upset about something."

"Yes, but not Char. Or the toy drive. It's the Kids Club." Becca sat on the ground next to me, where I was playing with Squirt. "We might not be able to have the club anymore. We might have to stop it."

"How come?"

"Because Ms. Simon's husband is going on a really long trip, and she decided to go with him. So she has to leave school for awhile. She can't find anyone who'll take her place at the club, and Mr. Katz doesn't think he can run the club by himself." (Ms. Simon and Mr. Katz are the two teachers who volunteer their time with the Kids Club.) "Becca, that's too bad," I said.

"I know." Becca's voice wavered and her lower lip quivered.

"Are you sure that's the only reason you're upset?" I asked, frowning.

My sister didn't answer me for a long time. When she did, her eyes were filled with tears. "You know what Vanessa Pike told me today?" she asked.

"What?" (Vanessa is another Kids Club member. She's a year older than Becca.) "That one of the girls in the hospital who'll be getting toys from our drive used to be a club member."

"Well, that's nice. She'll - " I started to say.

"No! It isn't nice at all!" Becca interrupted me. "That girl is nine, like Vanessa. Her name is Danielle Roberts, and she's been in the hospital ever since last summer because she has leukemia. You know what that is?"

"Yes," I said softly. "It's cancer of the blood. Sort of. I mean, I think it's cancer of the things in your body that form blood."

"Right," said Becca. "Cancer. And she's only a year older than me."

"That's awful," I agreed. "But you know what? I'm pretty sure that lots of kinds of cancer can be cured now. Especially leukemia."

"Really?"

"Yup. I mean, it's still a terrible disease to have, but lots of kids recover from it these days. There are so many new kinds of medicine and treatments. I bet Danielle - "

Becca interrupted me again. "Then how come she's still in the hospital? She's been there a long time."

"She's busy getting better. I didn't say if s easy to fight cancer."

Becca nodded. Her eyes overflowed.

I put my arms around her. "I'm sorry you're upset," I said. Then I added, "It's scary to think that kids can get so sick, isn't it?"

Becca nodded again. "Am I going to get cancer?" she asked.

"I hope not. But we can't be sure about those things. You probably won't get cancer, though."

"Danielle did."

"I know. That's one kid out of the entire fourth grade."

"Yeah," agreed Becca, drying her eyes. She sniffled. (Aunt Cecelia would have pulled a tissue out of her sleeve, but I let Becca be sloppy.) "Isn't it nice to think that Danielle might get well?"

Becca actually smiled. "Yup. And it's nice to think of her having fun with the toys we collect. Bellair's gave us some dolls."

"Great!" I said.

Becca put Squirt back in the swing and began to push him gently.

"Whing, whing!" called Squirt.

I stood up and leaned against our fence for awhile. I watched Becca and Squirt. And my mind returned to the Kids Club. Would it really come to an end? I couldn't believe that no one else would volunteer to help Mr. Katz until Ms. Simon came back. The club is important to an awful lot of people. Not just to the ones who benefit from it, like the kids in the hospital, but also to its members. 1 knew pretty many of the members, too. Aside from Becca, Charlotte, and Vanessa, there was Nicky Pike (Vanessa's younger brother), and a bunch of other children the Baby-sitters Club sometimes takes care of. The kids were proud of their work. And they had fun at club meetings. They would be really disappointed if they couldn't continue their after-school activity. I'd be disappointed, too. The club had been terrific for Becca.

What could 1 do about the problem? I wondered. Sometimes I feel like I'm practically an adult and I can do anything. Other times I feel like a little kid. That's one of the problems with being eleven. My best friend, Mallory Pike, would agree with that. (By the way, Mallory is the older sister of Nicky and Vanessa. There are eight Pike kids altogether!) Mal thinks being eleven is as frustrating as I do. Maybe I would give her a call. Or maybe I would call one of my other friends in the BSC. (That's how us club members refer to the Babysitters Club.) I would certainly have my choice of people to call. Here's a list of the other members of the club: Kristy Thomas, Claudia Kishi, Mary Anne Spier, Dawn Schafer, and Stacey McGill.

I was about to take my sister and brother inside so I could call Mallory, when Squirt suddenly shrieked, "Who!" He was pointing to his feet.

"Hey, he learned a new word!" exclaimed Becca. "I think who means shoe."

"Well, you two," I replied. "You and your whos come inside. I have to make a phone call."

Chapter 2.

I have thought a lot about what makes a best friend. I still do not have an answer. Among the girls in the BSC are several pairs of best friends. There's Mal and me, of course. There are Stacey and Claudia, Mary Anne and Dawn, and Mary Anne and Kristy. (Yes, Mary Anne has two best friends.) It looks to me as if best friends have some things in common, but not everything. For instance, Mal and I are the same, yet different. Maybe that means that best friends need to have something in common but also need to find something in each other that's foreign or unusual or unexpected. (Opposites attract.) I'm not sure, though. Friendship can be complicated.

Take me. As I've said, I come from a pretty typical family - a mom, a dad, three kids, and an aunt. My pa.s.sion is ballet. (I take lessons at a special dance school, and I've even starred in some productions.) I'm black. Now take Mallory. She comes from an eight-kid family, her pa.s.sion is writing, and she's white. We couldn't be more different, right? Wrong. Mal and I happen to have some common interests. We both love children and baby-sitting (duh), and we adore reading, especially horse stories. Our favorite books are by Marguerite Henry. She wrote Misty of Chincoteague and Stormy, Misty's Foal and Mustang, Wild Spirit of the West. Mal and I even read Brighty of the Grand Canyon, despite the fact that it's about a mule, not a horse. We like mysteries, too. Not horror stories, but gentle mysteries like the Green Knowe books by L. M. Boston, or Tom's Midnight Garden. Time-travel is always fascinating and mysterious.

Uh-oh. I am way off the subject. Let me tell you some more about Mal, so you can see the ways in which we're alike and different. Okay. I've said that she has seven brothers and sisters. They're all younger than she is. And three of them are identical triplets. They are Byron, Jordan, and Adam, who are ten. Next comes nine-year-old Vanessa, then eight-year-old Nicky, then seven-year-old Margo, and finally five-year-old Claire. (The Pikes have a pet hamster, just like we do, only their hamster is named Frodo, after the character in Lord of the Rings by J. R. R. Tolkien.) When Mal isn't watching her brothers and sisters or reading or baby-sitting or doing her homework, she's writing and drawing. Mal would like to write books for children someday, and maybe ill.u.s.trate the books, too. Mal feels insecure about her appearance. (I don't worry much about mine. 1 figure that as long as 1 have the body of a ballerina, I'm okay.) But Mal thinks her nose is too big, her hair is too red, and she has too many freckles. On top of all that, Mal wears braces (the clear kind, at least) and gla.s.ses. Her parents refuse to let her get contacts. However, they did let her get her^ears pierced - which prompted my parents to let me get mine pierced at the same time. Even so, Mal and 1 both think our parents treat us like infants (another reason eleven is such an awful age). They won't let us baby-sit at night unless we're sitting at our own houses. They won't let us dress as wildly as we'd like to. The Pikes won't even let Mal-lory get a nose job. ("Just wait till I make my first million," says Mal.) At any rate, as you can see, Mal and 1 are similar and different.

So are Kristy Thomas and Mary Anne Spier.

Kristy and Mary Anne grew up right next door to each other. (Well, now neither of them lives in her old house, but they were next-door neighbors until the summer before they started eighth grade. That was when Kristy's mom, who'd been divorced, got remarried. Kristy was the first of the two of them to move away.) Kristy and Mary Anne actually look a little alike. They're both short for their age, which is thirteen (Kristy's shorter), and they both have brown eyes and longish brown hair, which they often fix in pony tails. Neither one is a terribly trendy dresser. This is because Kristy couldn't care less about clothes, while Mary Anne's father can be strict about his daughter's wardrobe. Here is what Kristy almost always wears: jeans, running shoes, a turtleneck shirt and a sweater, sometimes a T-shirt and a sweatshirt. She also has a baseball cap with a picture of a collie on it. Mary Anne's father used to make her wear all this boring stuff, like plaid dresses, or corduroy jumpers with plain white blouses. Now he's loosened up enough so that Mary Anne is allowed to buy her own clothes. But she's not allowed to wear tight jeans, or shirts with a lot of glitter, or anything Mr. Spier thinks is "too revealing." Needless to say, she has not been allowed to get her ears pierced. (Kristy doesn't have pierced ears, either, but only because she doesn't want them. She thinks punching holes in her ears is gross.) One thing thaf s totally different about Mary Anne and Kristy is their personalities. Kristy is outgoing; Mary Anne is shy. Kristy some- times runs off at the mouth (she doesn't intend to be rude; she just doesn't always think before she speaks). Mary Anne won't even talk unless she's around people with whom she feels comfortable. Kristy is a tomboy who loves sports (she coaches a softball team for little kids), and doesn't have much use for boys, unless the boy is Bart Taylor, coach of a rival softball team; Mary Anne is sensitive (she cries at the drop of a hat) and romantic, and is the first of any of us BSC members to have a steady boyfriend.

Also, Kristy and Mary Anne come from pretty different backgrounds, in terms of family, but now (surprisingly) their family situations are similar. This is what 1 mean: Kristy was born into a family with a mom, a dad, and two brothers (Sam and Charlie). A few years later, her little brother, David Michael, came along, and not much later . . . her father ran out on the family. He just left one day. So it was up to Mrs. Thomas to raise Kristy and her brothers, and to provide for them. She did both things really well. The Thomas kids are all down-to-earth and, well, just nice. And Mrs. Thomas got a good job at a company in Stamford. I'm not sure what she does, but I know she's considered very important in the business. Anyway, when Kristy was in seventh grade her mom met and fell in love with this guy named Watson Brewer. Watson (that's how Kristy refers to him) is an actual millionaire. And after the wedding, he moved Kristy and her family across town into his mansion. Kristy gained a part-time stepbrother and stepsister in the process. They're part-time because they live with their father only on alternating weekends and on certain holidays and vacations. The rest of the time they live with their mother and stepfather, who have a house in Stoneybrook not far from Watson's. Since Kristy has absolutely fallen in love with Andrew and Karen (who are four and seven) she wishes they could spend more time with their father. But Kristy's household is something of a zoo as it is. Her mom and Watson adopted a little girl from Vietnam (Emily Mi-ch.e.l.le is about two and a half), and then Nannie, Kristy's grandmother, moved in to help care for Emily. Plus, David Michael has a dog, Watson has a cat, and Karen and Andrew keep two goldfish at their dad's. Whew!

Mary Anne, on the other hand, was born to her mom and her dad, but she has no brothers and sisters. Then, when Mary Anne was really little, her mom died. (Mary Anne doesn't really remember her mother.) After that, it was just Mary Anne and her father, on their own. Mr. Spier loved his daughter, but he was pretty strict with her. I think he wanted to prove that he could raise a perfect child all by himself. He made Mary Anne wear clothes that he chose for her, he made her fix her hair in braids, he wouldn't let her talk on the phone, after dinner, and so forth. Then everything changed.

In January of seventh grade, Dawn Schafer moved to town. Her mother had grown up in Stoneybrook, so after she and Dawn's dad decided to get a divorce, she moved back here from California. And Mrs. Schafer and Mr. Spier began to see each other, and finally got married. Mary Anne and Dawn, who were already close friends, became stepsisters. The Spiers moved into the old farmhouse Mrs. Schafer had bought, and suddenly Mary Anne had a much bigger family - a father, a stepmother, a stepsister, and a stepbrother. (I'll tell you about Jeff, her stepbrother, in a few minutes.) Oh, and Tigger, her kitten. This was quite a change, but Mary Anne likes her new family - most of the time.

You must be curious about Dawn by now, since she's Mary Anne's sister as well as one of her best friends. Let's see. Dawn and her younger brother, Jeff, were born in California. They lived there until the divorce. Then they moved to Connecticut with their mom. As you can imagine, this was sort of a shock for them, moving clear across the country - and leav- ing mild California for a snowy Connecticut winter. They also left their father, of course, which turned out to be especially hard on Jeff. Long before his mother and Mary Anne's father decided to get married, Jeff moved back to California. He simply couldn't adjust to his new life. Now he lives happily with his dad. Tough as the past couple of years have been, Dawn has accepted things well. She seems happy with her new life and her family, maybe partly because she gets to visit California pretty often. But mostly, that's just how Dawn is. She's practical and calm, which is good for Mary Anne, and she's also very much an individual. She dresses the way she likes, no matter what other people are wearing, and she eats the way she likes - which is healthy. Dawn does not eat meat or sweets. What she likes are fruits and vegetables and a few weird things such as tofu and bean sprouts.

Dawn and Mary Anne have gotten along well from the moment they first met each other. Mary Anne is as accepting as Dawn is. Dawn is quieter than Kristy, and she and Mary Anne share a love of reading and of certain movies. (Dawn especially likes ghost stories, which is interesting because in her house is a secret pa.s.sage . . . which may be haunted.) All right. On to Stacey and Claudia, the last pair of best friends. Boy, are they different from anyone else in the club. They are so sophisticated. It's hard to believe they're the same age as Kristy, Dawn, and Mary Anne, and only two years older than Mallory and me. Somehow, Stacey seems even more sophisticated than Claud. 1 guess that's because she grew up in big, glamorous New York City. She lived there until the summer before seventh grade. Then she and her parents (Stacey is an only child) moved to Connecticut when, just like with my family, the company her dad works for transferred his job to Stamford. Stacey liked Connecticut, and right away, she and Claudia met and became friends. The McGills had been living in Stoneybrook for less than a year when guess what. Mr. McGill's company transferred him back to New York. So Stacey and her parents left Stoneybrook. (Want to hear something weird? When the McGills sold their house, my family bought it! We live in Stacey's former home. In fact, my bedroom used to be Stacey's.) Anyway, while the McGills were in New York for the second time, something sad happened. Stacey's parents decided to get a divorce. Almost as bad, Mr. McGill wanted to remain in New York City because of his job, vKile Mrs. McGill wanted to return to Stoneybrook, which she had liked very much - and Stacey was left with a dilemma. Where did she want to live (and with which parent)? The decision was hers to make, and it was a tough one. At last Stacey chose to move back to Connecticut with her mother, but she thinks she hurt her father's feelings.

Life has not been easy for Stacey McGill. Apart from her family problems, she has a physical problem, a disease called diabetes. Diabetics do not process sugar properly, which can mess up their blood sugar level. Unfortunately, Stacey has a severe form of diabetes (she's called a brittle diabetic), and not only has to stay on a strict, calorie-counting, no-sweets diet, but has to give herself injections of something called insulin every day. (Ew.) Despite these things, Stacey has emerged as one of the coolest kids in all of SMS. She dresses in really chilly clothes - leggings, cowboy boots, hats, short skirts, a lot of black, etc. She has blonde hair, which her mother lets her perm every now and then, and, of course, her ears are pierced. (By the way, speaking of pierced ears, did I mention that Dawn has had each of her ears pierced twice?) Stacey's are pierced the regular way, like Mal's and mine.

Claudia's aren't. Claudia Kishi, whom I suppose is the funkiest dresser of all the BSC members, has had one of her ears pierced once and the other twice. Her clothes are similar to Stacey's, but I suppose that if Claudia were to offer a fashion tip, it would be, "Accessorize to the max." She certainly follows her own advice, wearing tons of hats, belts, boots, jewelry (she makes a lot of the jewelry), and hair ornaments. Claud has beautiful, long, black hair, which she wears in different styles. She's really striking-looking. Her parents are j.a.panese, and Claud's features are exotic. Plus - despite a pa.s.sion for junk food - her complexion is gorgeous.

Claud is ... 1 was about to say she's a real character, but I guess what 1 mean is that she's fascinating, at least to me. Her bedroom tells a lot about her. It's full of hidden things - the junk food her parents disapprove of, and the Nancy Drew mysteries she loves to read but which her parents also disapprove of. And it is cluttered with art supplies. Claudia is a really talented artist. Not only does she make jewelry, but she paints, draws, sculpts, throws pots (that means she creates pottery), and more. Some of her work has been awarded prizes. This is good for Claud because she is not much of a student - but her older sister, Janine, is a genius. Luckily Claud is recognized for her artwork, since Janine sweeps up in the academic category.

Claud was born and raised in Stoneybrook, and she and Janine live with their parents (no pets). You can see that while Claud and Stacey are wild (even daring) and outgoing, their families and backgrounds are quite different, which only goes to back up my half-formed theory about best friends.

I realized that I'd been staring at the kitchen phone for about five minutes, while my mind wandered. I shook my head. Then I reached for the receiver. I was just about to call Mallory when . . .

"Who!" cried Squirt, and I looked at his feet and saw that one shoe was missing.

I had to go on a sneaker hunt before I could phone Mal.

Chapter 3.

I didn't reach Mal until that evening. But I was glad I finally did. Mal is so practical. She said, "Why don't you talk about the Kids Club at the next BSC meeting?"

What a simple, wonderful suggestion. Of course I should mention the Kids Club to my friends. They always have good ideas. Especially Kristy. She is the Queen of Good Ideas.

In fact, without Kristy, there wouldn't be a Baby-sitters Club at all. . . . What is the Babysitters Club? Well, for those of you who don't know, the BSC is a very successful sitting business that my friends and I run here in Stoneybrook. One reason the business is so successful is the official way in which we conduct ourselves. The BSC meets regularly, and each member has a special job or role.

The club began awhile ago - before Dawn and I even lived in Stoneybrook. And when Mal was young enough so she was still a baby- sittee, not yet a baby-sitter. Everything started with Kristy. Back when she, Claudia, Stacey, and Mary Anne were just beginning seventh grade (and when Stacey had just moved to Connecticut for the first time), Kristy, her mom, and her brothers were living in their old house across the street from Claudia and next door to Mary Anne. Mrs. Thomas had only been seeing Watson Brewer for a short time. And David Michael was just six years old. Charlie, Sam, and Kristy were supposed to take turns watching him after school (until Mrs. Thomas came home from her office), but they lead busy lives, so every now and then a day would come along when none of them was free to take care of their little brother. Then Mrs. Thomas would have to rush to line up a baby-sitter. One evening, Kristy was watching her mom make one call after another, trying to find an available sitter, when she got her best idea ever. Her mother would save a lot of time if she could make just one phone call - and reach a whole bunch of sitters.

And that was the beginning of the Babysitters Club. As soon as she could, Kristy told Mary Anne and Claudia about her idea, and they decided to meet several times a week. If people who needed baby-sitters called them during meetings, they'd reach three capable sitters. Mary Anne and Claudia loved the idea but thought they needed a fourth member. Claud suggested Stacey, with whom she was just becoming friends. So Stacey met Kristy and Mary Anne and was made the fourth member of the BSC.

The club was a success from the beginning. I think this was for two reasons. One, Kristy knows how to advertise. Two, Kristy is the perfect club president, since she also knows how to run things. Why was advertising so important in the beginning? Because that's how people learned about the BSC. The club members had decided to meet Monday, Wednesday, and Friday afternoons from five-thirty until six. But how would anyone else know that? They made up fliers and distributed them in the neighborhood. They placed an ad in the local paper. And they told everyone they could think of about their new business.

What a success! By the middle of that school year, when Dawn moved to town, the girls were doing so much business that they needed a fifth club member. And later, when Stacey had moved back to New York, she was replaced by both Mal (who was finally old enough to sit) and me. Of course, after her parents' divorce, when Stacey returned to Sto-neybrook, she rejoined the club immediately. We have seven members now (plus two as- sociate members whom I'll describe later) and I think that's enough!

Remember when I said that Kristy is the perfect president? This is why: Besides deciding that the club should meet three times a week and that we should advertise our services, she decided that everyone should have certain responsibilities, or hold a certain position in the club. So Kristy became the president. (After all, the BSC was her idea.) As president, she's responsible for running things smoothly, and for continuing to come up with great ideas. Here are some of her ideas: - To keep a club notebook. The notebook is more of a diary. Kristy insists that each of us write up every single job we go on, and that we read everyone's entries once a week. I'll tell you something. Most of us do not like writing in that diary. It's boring. But - we all like reading the notebook. Now that's interesting. We find out what happened when our friends were sitting, how they solved sticky sitting situations, and what's going on with the families we sit for regularly. (It's always helpful to know if a child has developed a new fear, has been sick, is having trouble in school, or if a child has a new interest, has done well at something, has a new friend, etc.) - To keep a club record book containing information about the clients of the BSC. For instance, their names, addresses, and phone numbers, the ages of their kids, and the rates they pay. Also included in the record book are the appointment pages, where Mary Anne (the club secretary) schedules all of our jobs; and a section where Stacey (the club treasurer) records how much money we earn while sitting.

- To create Kid-Kits. Here is Kristy at her brilliant best! Kristy took a simple idea (that, for whatever reason, kids like playing with other people's toys better than their own), and turned it into, well, another great idea. A Kid-Kit is a box (we each have one) that we fill with our own (old) games, books, and toys, as well as some new things that have to be replaced from time to time, such as crayons and other art materials, coloring books, sticker books, etc. We sometimes take the kits with us when we baby-sit. They're great for rainy days, for entertaining new sitting charges, and sometimes for absolutely no special reason! The kids love Kid-Kits, so when their parents come home, they find happy faces, which makes them more likely to call the BSC the next time they need a sitter.

Whew! Sometimes Kristy's brain is hard to keep up with.

Okay. On to the vice-president of the BSC. That's Claudia. She gets to be vice-president because we hold our meetings in her bedroom. Her room was chosen because Claud has her own telephone and her own phone number. This is important (and lucky). During our meetings we spend a lot of time on the phone. It's nice to know that when we use Claud's phone, we aren't tying up some adult's line for a half an hour three times a week. Claud is very generous - with her room, her phone, and her junk food (club snacks). She deserves to be vice-president.

As I mentioned before, Mary Anne is our secretary. This is a fairly complicated task. In order to schedule sitting jobs, Mary Anne has to keep track of my ballet lessons, Claud's art cla.s.ses, Mal's orthodontist appointments, Sta-cey's weekends with her father, etc. Then she records our, jobs on the appointment pages. That's not easy. Plus, she's in charge of keeping the information in the record book up-to-date.

In fact, Mary Anne is in charge of the entire record book - except for one section. That section is Stacey's, where, as our treasurer, she makes a list of the money we earn. This is just for our information. Each of us gets to keep all the money from every job we take. (We don't try to divide up the money or anything.) We do, however, have to contribute club dues at the Monday meetings. We all hate parting with our money, but dues are important. Stacey puts the money in our treasury (a manila envelope) and doles it out as needed. We spend dues money on lots of things. We use it to buy more items for the Kid-Kits. We use it to help pay Claud's phone bill. We use it to pay Charlie Thomas to drive Kristy to and from meetings now that she no longer lives in the neighborhood. And sometimes we use it for something fun, such as food for a BSC sleepover. Stacey is a good treasurer because she's an excellent math student. (She actually likes math.) Dawn is called an alternate officer, which is like being an understudy in a play. She knows the duties and responsibilities of every club member, so she can fill in if someone has to miss a meeting. (When Stacey temporarily moved back to New York, Dawn became the treasurer. She gladly gave up that job when Stacey returned. She couldn't stand our grumbling each time she collected dues. Besides, she hates math.) Guess what Mallory and I are in charge of. Nothing. Well, I don't really mean nothing. We're good baby-sitters. It's just that because we're eleven, and the unfortunate product of overprotective parents, we're not allowed to sit at night (unless we're sitting for our own brothers and sisters). Mostly, we sit after school and on weekend days. Because of this, we are the club's junior officers. Sometimes I feel a little unimportant since when Mal or I miss a meeting, Dawn doesn't have to do anything to replace us. However, Kristy a.s.sures us that we're necessary. Without Mal and me to.take on so many daytime jobs, she says, she and the older club members would have to turn down some of the evening jobs.

I know that makes us sound busy, and we are. (Busy, I mean.) We're busy enough so that we had to sign on those two a.s.sociate members I told you about earlier. An a.s.sociate member doesn't come to club meetings but is a reliable sitter we can call on in case a job is offered to the club that none of us full-time members can take. You'd think that with seven people and seven schedules, that wouldn't happen. But it does. Occasionally. And when it does, we offer the job to one of our a.s.sociates. (That way, we don't have to disappoint our clients.) Our a.s.sociate members are Shannon Kilbourne, a friend of Kristy's who lives in her new neighborhood, and Logan Bruno. Logan is Mary Anne's boyfriend!

This is how a club meeting typically starts. My friends and I trickle into Claud's room between five-fifteen and five-thirty. I usually arrive dangerously close to five-thirty. That's because often I rush to a club meeting after I've had a ballet lesson in Stamford.

Kristy is always sitting in Claud's director's chair, wearing a visor, a pencil stuck over one ear. This is her Presidential Look. She keeps an eye on the digital alarm clock, which is our official club timepiece. As soon as those numbers turn from 5:29 to 5:30, Kristy is on the case. She sits up straight, trying to appear as tall as possible. Then she says, "Any club business?" This is the clue for Stacey to collect dues (if it's Monday). It's also the time for us to raise questions or to talk about problems. Usually these are baby-sitting questions or problems. But not always.

The day after Becca came home with her sad news about the Kids Club, I was still thinking about Mr. Katz and Ms. Simon. When Kristy said,' "Any club business?" I cleared my throat.

"Yes, Jessi?" said Kristy.

"I've been thinking. You know the Kids Club?" I began. Everyone nodded, so I explained what was happening.

"That's pretty rotten," Kristy commented when I had finished talking.

"Yeah. Nicky and Vanessa are really upset," added Mallory.

"So's Becca," I said. "And that's what I was thinking about. There must be some way to keep the club going."

"I can't believe no one will volunteer to take Ms. Simon's place/' said Dawn.