Mary Anne And The Zoo Mystery.

Ann M. Martin.

Chapter 1.

"Listen to this! Bedford Zoo to host animal world VIPs." I held up the front page of the newspaper, which displayed a large color photo. "James and Mojo."

"Mojo?" a voice from the kitchen door repeated. "What kind of a name is that?"

I giggled. "It's a name for a gorilla." I turned the newspaper so Dawn could see. "Here's her picture. Isn't she darling?"

"Mary Anne, you think every fuzzy-faced, four-legged creature is darling," Dawn said.

I thought about it - but not for long. "I guess I do." As if to prove it, I picked up my extremely cute gray-striped kitten off the floor and plopped him in my lap. "Isn't that right, Tigger?"

Jigger's motor started instantly. I scratched him in one of his favorite spots, between the ears, and smiled as his eyelids dropped to half-mast.

Since you've already met Tigger and Dawn, I guess I should introduce myself. I'm Mary Anne Spier. I'm thirteen years old, and I live in Stoneybrook, Connecticut, with my dad, my stepmother Sharon, and my stepsister Dawn (and Tigger).

You'll notice I said stepmother and stepsister. That's because this is my dad's second marriage. He didn't get divorced, like a lot of parents I know. My mother died when I was a baby, so I have no memories of her. We have photos of her, so I know what she looked like, but it's not quite the same as remembering.

For the longest time, it was just me and my father. Because he had to raise me all by himself, Dad used to be really strict. I'm not kidding. For one thing, I couldn't talk on the phone, except to ask questions about homework. But the worst thing was the way he made me dress. Can you imagine a seventh-grader wearing pigtails and jumpers with kneesocks? It was terrible. I felt like a baby.

To make matters worse, I was - and still am - extremely shy. It was difficult for me to make friends. It was also hard for me to stand up to my father. When I finally did, it really changed my life.

This is how it happened. I'm a member of the Baby-sitters Club (which I'll tell you more about later), or the BSC. Through the BSC, I had taken a job baby-sitting for Jenny Prezzioso, a three-year-old. After her parents left for the afternoon, Jenny got really sick. She had a fever of one hundred and four degrees. I couldn't reach her parents so I called all of the numbers the Prezziosos had left for me, but no one was home. Finally I called 911. The operator sent an ambulance right away and we took Jenny to the hospital.

It was a very scary experience, but Dad was impressed with my responsible behavior. That gave me the courage to talk to him about being allowed to grow up.

Now I dress the way I want, which is still pretty conservative. I mean, I wear the latest styles and all, but I don't go overboard. My dark brown hair is no longer in pigtails. In fact, I recently had it cut short (to my chin). It's bouncy and very easy to take care of. I talk to my friends when I want to and - are you ready for this? I have a steady boyfriend, which would have been a major no-no before. What can I tell you about Logan Bruno? He's cute (I think he looks just like my favorite star, Cam Geary), and he's charming, especially with that southern accent (Logan's from Louisville, Kentucky). He's a great athlete, an extremely nice guy, and a member of the Babysitters Club. Well, not a full-fledged member.

Logan's an a.s.sociate member, which means he helps out when we have too many jobs and not enough sitters to go around.

Back to my dad. Once he realized that I didn't need to be watched so closely, hejdis-covered that he could get on with his own life. Which was great, and that's how I ended up with this wonderful new family.

You see, it all started when I met Dawn Schafer, who had just moved to Stoneybrook with her mom and brother, Jeff. Dawn's family had been living in California, but when her mom and dad got divorced, Sharon (Dawn's mom) returned, with her kids, to the place where she grew up - Stoneybrook. Dawn and I quickly became friends. Then a truly amazing dung happened.

One day, Dawn and I were looking through my father's high school yearbook. We had tons of fun laughing at all of the strange hairdos and funny outfits that they wore twenty years ago. Then we saw a message he had written to S.E.P. under his picture. S.E.P. were Dawn's mother's initials before she got married! We flipped to Sharon's picture. It said "Dearest Richie" with a really gushy message signed "Always and forever, Sharon."

Richie was my dad. He and Sharon had been high school sweethearts. Isn't that incredible? Dawn and I decided that instant that we had a mission - to get Sharon and Richie back together.

We reintroduced them to each other, and love did the rest. Before we knew it they were dating, and after awhile, they married. Did we all live happily ever after? Of course!

Well, it wasn't quite that simple. You see, Dad and I moved in with Sharon and Dawn. (My ten-year-old stepbrother Jeff had already gone back to California. He had had a tough time adjusting to his new school here in Stoneybrook, plus he really missed his dad and friends back on the West Coast.) To be honest, we all had some trouble adjusting to each other at first. You see, Dawn and Sharon are extremely casual people. They don't worry if the house gets a little messy. Or even a lot messy. Sharon is pretty absent-minded, too, which adds to the clutter. She'll put her shoes in the refrigerator and the orange juice in the hall closet. After she's cooked dinner (which is usually some form of vegetarian cuisine), the kitchen can officially be de-dared a disaster area. Every pan and utensil is on the counter, drawers are left open, and the sink is piled high with dishes. That doesn't bother Sharon or Dawn.

But it sure bothers Dad, who is a full-fledged neat freak. My father's socks are organized by color in his dresser. His shirts are hung exactly one inch apart in his closet. His desk looks like a window display for office supplies and his car still smells new, even though it's several years old.

At first Dawn and I tried to share a room, but we soon discovered that we were just too different. She listens to music when she does her homework; I like silence. Her idea of a late snack is an apple and a carton of yogurt. For me, it's a plate full of Oreos and a tall gla.s.s of milk. When we finally set up separate rooms, life became much easier.

There have been a few other rough spots - such as when Dawn went back to California to live with her dad for awhile because she missed him so terribly. That was hard. We talked on the phone a lot (you should have seen the phone bills!), but it still wasn't the same as having her in the next room. Now Dawn is living with us again, and I'm thrilled. I don't even mind her weird granola toast and special oat-and-nuts cereal (I've even taken to eating it for breakfast myself).

In fact, when she appeared in the doorway that Sat.u.r.day, half asleep and verging on being a grouch, I had already eaten a large bowl of the stuff hours earlier.

"Mojo," Dawn muttered, pushing her long blonde hair away from her face as she bent to fill her cereal bowl. "How come James got a regular name, and Mojo was stuck with Mojo? That hardly seems fair."

"They'll be at the Bedford Zoo. We have to go and see them," I declared, putting the paper down. "Since it's springtime, m bet lots of the animals are having babies. I can't wait to see them!"

Dawn was starting to wake up. She took a sip of the orange juice she'd poured herself. "That sounds like fun. Why don't we go today?"

I shook my head. "Can't. Logan's coming over and the three of us are going to a movie, downtown. Remember?" "How are we getting there?" "Bikes. You know that." I snapped my fingers in front of her bewildered face.

"I'm awake," Dawn insisted, slapping at her cheeks. "Really I am. It's all coming back to me. Lunch, yesterday. Logan asked us to go to a movie. We said maybe. He said he'd treat. We said definitely. I remember." Dawn shrugged and smiled. "See? My amnesia is cured." Ding-dong!

"That must be him," I said, hopping up from the kitchen table. "I'll get it." "What's he doing here so early?" I pointed to the clock on the microwave. "It's one o'clock, sleepyhead."

Now Dawn was really awake. I don't think I've ever seen her move so fast. She gulped the rest of her orange juice, inhaled her cereal, and raced up the stairs to her room. Moments later she appeared dressed in a pair of jeans, a purple-and-white cotton baseball jersey, and a purple sun visor.

"Anyone want to bicycle into town with me?" she puffed, a little red-faced from all that running.

Logan wasn't fooled. He grinned. "You sound like you just ran a marathon. Maybe you ought to take a break for a few minutes before we hit the street."

"Thanks." Dawn collapsed into a chair, gasping for air. "I don't mind if I do."

Twenty minutes later, we were pedaling downtown. I just love spring in Stoneybrook. Daffodils and irises poke their heads up along the walkways of Main Street. Apple trees are in bloom, and the air smells delicious.

Summer fashions had taken over the window displays and we oohed and ahed. our way to the downtown cinema. We locked our bikes in the rack out front and then took our place in the ticket line, which was fairly long.

It was moving pretty slowly, too. As we pa.s.sed the window of the candy store near the theater, I noticed an unusual poster. It was a picture of a very sad-looking elephant.

Prison bars had been drawn across his face.

" 'Free Babar/ " I read out loud. "Did you see this, Logan?"

He and Dawn stood next to me, reading the poster.

"Poor little elephant. Imagine being stuck in a cage at the Valley Park Shopping Center," I said.

"Where's that?" Logan asked.

"Near Stamford," I replied. "They bought the elephant from a circus, and are using him to promote the shopping center. This is awful. The poor thing doesn't have any room to move around."

Little Babar looked so sad peering out from behind the prison bars. I could feel my eyes filling with tears. (Did I mention that I am very emotional?) "Uh-oh. Find your handkerchiefs." Dawn groaned. "Mary Anne's going to cry."

Logan, who is used to seeing me cry at television commercials, patted my arm. "Don't get all worked up. Babar will be okay."

"That's right," Dawn added, pointing to the bottom of the poster. "See? They're taking up a collection to raise money to move him to a real zoo."

Now my vision was definitely blurred. (Once I start, it's hard to stop.) I dug in my purse for some money. "I'll give Babar some- thing. Here's a dollar and thirty-three cents."

Logan held a dollar bill in the air. 'I'll chip in a dollar."

Dawn emptied her entire coin purse in the palm of my hand. "That's all I can find. But Babar can have it."

As the movie line pushed forward/1 stepped out. I raced inside the candy store and found a small can marked, Money for Babar, sitting on the counter beside the cash register. I stuffed in the dollars and change as fast as I could, then hurried to join my friends, who had just reached the ticket window.

'Teel better?" Logan asked as he handed us our movie tickets.

I nodded. "A little. But I'd feel a lot better if I knew Babar was leaving that awful place."

We found three seats in the middle of the theater. Logan, great guy that he is, bought popcorn and soft drinks for Dawn and me. Soon the lights went down and the opening credits began to roll. It was hard to concentrate on the movie, though. All I could think of was that sad little elephant's face. I knew I wanted to do more than drop a few coins in a can, and hope for the best. But what?

The Baby-sitters Club! Of course! We could make freeing Babar a dub effort. It would be a great community service and our charges would love it. I decided to talk to the members of the BSC on Monday.

I tossed another big handful of popcorn in my mouth and leaned back comfortably in my seat. When Logan took my hand and gave it a squeeze, I gave him a big smile. Now that I'd come up with a way to help free Babar, I could finally enjoy the movie.

Chapter 2.

"He kind of looks like Dumbo," Claudia Kishi said, examining the elephant's photograph.

It was Monday afternoon and I had brought a Free Babar poster to our Baby-sitters Club meeting to show the rest of the members.

Kristy Thomas, our dub president and my other best friend, jumped on the idea. "The BSC could do a lot to help free Babar," she said, leaning back in the director's chair that she always sits in during dub meetings. "If you guys want, we can organize the kids and help spread the word. Maybe we can even do a few projects to help raise money for Babar."

I love it when Kristy gets exdted about a project. She puts herself one hundred percent behind it and makes it happen.

Take the Baby-sitters dub, one of her greatest ideas of all time. She came up with the idea to form the dub while sitting in her kitchen one day, listening to her mom try to find a baby-sitter. You see, Kristy's father walked out on her family when Kristy was six and never looked back. That left Kristy's mom to work and raise four kids. Anyway, on that afternoon last year, Mrs. Thomas (that was her name then) made phone call after phone call trying to find someone to take care of David Michael, Kristy's younger brother (he's seven and a half now).

That's when the great idea hit Kristy like a bolt out of the blue.

Why not form a club consisting of responsible, experienced sitters? Parents could make one call, to the club, and reach a whole bunch of good sitters at once. Brilliant, huh?

In the beginning, there were only four of us - me, Kristy, Claudia, and Stacey McGill. Claudia, who is a fantastic artist, designed our fliers and the dub was on its way. We decided to meet three times a week, on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays from five-thirty to six in Claud's room.

Kristy and I used to live across the street from Claudia on Bradford Court. That's all changed now. I already told you that my dad married Sharon and we moved into their farmhouse. Well, Kristy's mom married Watson Brewer (a genuine millionaire) and Kristy and her three brothers - Charlie, age seventeen, Sam, age fifteen, and David Michael - moved into his big beautiful mansion on the other side of town.

Watson has two kids from his first marriage, seven-year-old Karen and Andrew, who's four. After he married Mrs. Thomas (now Mrs. Brewer), they adopted Emily Mich.e.l.le, a two-year-old from Vietnam. Then Nannie, Kristy's grandmother, moved in to help look after everybody. When Karen and Andrew are living at the big house (they call their mom's house the little house), which is every other month, there are ten people at the Brewer mansion. It's a good thing it's so huge.

But anyway, in the beginning, when the dub was formed, Kristy and Claudia and Stacey and I were neighbors. We decided to hold our meetings at Claud's because she has a phone in her room and - are you ready for this? - it's not just an extension, it's her very own phone line.

Kristy became president because the dub was her idea and because she's a real leader. (Some people would say she's loud and bossy, but I prefer to call her strong-willed.) We can count on Kristy to be at every meeting in her jeans, sneakers, and a turtleneck shirt. She usually wears her baseball cap placed firmly on her brown hair, which is pulled into a ponytail.

Since we were holding meetings at Claudia's, we elected her vice-president. Claud does a lot of things for the club, such as pick up calls when the dub's not in session and supply us with snacks. She is also our resident artist and all-around cool, creative person. In the looks category, I would say that Claudia is gorgeous with her shiny jet black hair and perfect dear complexion.

Claudia does have a couple of flaws. (Don't we all?) One, she is a major junk food addict. I'm not kidding. She stashes cookies and candy bars all over her room. And two, although she is very smart, schoolwork is Qau-dia's nemesis. She can paint a picture of douds soaring over a summer landscape with her eyes dosed, but ask her to diagram a sentence and she freezes up completely. At one point her parents were so concerned about her falling behind in her studies that they asked her to consider quitting the BSC. It was awful. Fortunately, Claudia pulled her grades up so she didn't have to quit. But we understand that, for Claudia, homework has to come first. Stacey McGill, who is a real math whiz, was our first treasurer. She and Claudia are a lot alike. Both have the absolute coolest dothes - not because they're rich and can afford to buy a million outfits, but because they have a real sense of style.

Claudia will go to a used clothing store and buy an old black vest, a beat-up derby, and an old-fashioned collarless shirt for a few dollars. Then she'll add some lace and beads to the vest to make it extra funky. She'll make a sequined headband for the derby and belt the big white shirt over some wild leggings and voild! She looks like a million dollars.

Stacey's style is just as cool, but a little more sophisticated and sleek. I think it comes from the fact that she lived in New York City for such a long time. She grew up there. Stacey also acts a little more grown-up than the rest of us because she's had to deal with some serious problems in her life, the biggest one being her diabetes. Stacey's body can't process sugar, so she has to give herself daily shots of insulin. Can you imagine sticking yourself with a needle? Ew! I just couldn't do it.

Stacey and Claudia used to be best friends. Unfortunately, Stacey's no longer in the club, which makes me sad just thinking about it. I mean, we have all been such close friends and have gone through so much together, it just doesn't feel right for her not to be in the BSC. Here's what happened: A number of us have boyfriends. Kristy has Bart Taylor (though she would never officially call him her boyfriend). Bart is this boy in the neighborhood who coaches a softball team for kids, like Kristy's team, the Krushers. And as I said, I have Logan. Well, Stacey's seeing this guy named Robert Brewster, but her attachment to him is different. She decided that he meant more to her than the BSC or any of our friendships did, so she quit our dub. Before she did, a lot of harsh words were said by everyone, which I think ,we all regret. (I know I do.) But one of the things Stacey said that really sticks in my mind is that she felt we were too babyish for her. That hurt. I hope we can work it out someday, but for now, Stacey is not in the club. So Dawn, who's usually our alternate officer (that's the person who takes over the duties of an officer who can't make a meeting), is now serving as dub treasurer, which she winces at because math is not her strong suit.

I was voted dub secretary because I have the best handwriting in the group and because I am a very organized person. Believe me, you have to be organized in order to do this job. You see, I keep track of everyone's schedules - when they go to ballet da.s.s, or a Frendi dub meeting, or to the orthodontist. I know when Kristy's Krushers hold their practices, and when Claudia's art cla.s.s has an exhibition.

Besides knowing all of our personal schedules, I schedule every single baby-sitting job. When a client calls, we jot down the important information - who, when, where, how many children, and so on - and then I check the record book to see which of our club members is free. If the record book were wrong, things could get pretty crazy. This may sound like bragging, but I'm proud to say that I have never made a mistake.

Mallory Pike and Jessica Ramsey joined our dub later and are the BSC's junior officers. We call them that because they are eleven and in the sixth grade, and they're not allowed to baby-sit at night, except for their own families.

Besides being best friends, they are totally horse crazy. They love horse movies, The Black Stallion and Black Beauty being among their favorites, and horse books, especially the ones written by Marguerite Henry. Neither of them has ever owned a horse, but they dream about it.

Both girls have special talents and big dreams for the future. Mal would like to be a children's book author and ill.u.s.trator someday. (She's off to a good start, too, having won best all-around fiction for the sixth grade on Young Authors' Day.) Jessi, with her beautiful long legs and graceful body, is a ballet dancer. She's danced leading roles in several productions and hopes to dance with a major company like the New York City Ballet one day. I'm certain she'll do it, too.

Though they have a lot in common, Jessi and Mal are also very different. First of all, Jessi is black and Mallory is white. Jessi has two siblings: Becca, who's eight and a half, and her baby brother Squirt (his real name, John Philip Ramsey, Jr., is awfully big for such a little guy).

Mallory has seven brothers and sisters. Mallory is the oldest (she's eleven), followed by the triplets, Byron, Adam, and Jordan, who are ten. Then comes nine-year-old Vanessa, eight-year-old Nicky, Margo, who's seven, and last, but certainly not least, five-year-old Claire. They all have reddish-brown hair and blue eyes, and three of them - Mallory, Vanessa, and Nicky - wear gla.s.ses. (Mal longs to trade in her frames for a pair of contacts, but her parents say she has to wait until she's older.) I think I've covered everyone except Shannon Kilbourne, who has taken over Dawn's old job of alternate officer. Shannon lives across the street from Kristy. When those two first met, they didn't like each other at all. Kristy thought Shannon was a big sn.o.b, but it was all a misunderstanding. Kristy soon found out that Shannon was very nice, and that she was also a great baby-sitter. She invited Shannon to become an a.s.sociate member of the BSC, like Logan. Despite her heavy involvement with activities at her school, Shan-19 non has been doing a lot of filling in lately - first, when Dawn was in California, and now, with Stacey out of the dub.

Speaking of Stacey, Claudia and Dawn were having a pretty intense discussion about her. I don't know how they got from Babar to Stacey and Robert, but in the course of a half hour we usually manage to talk about lots of things, as well as take calls from clients, which is our main reason for meeting.

"Oh, Stacey saw me, all right," Dawn was saying. "She started to wave but then she looked away really fast."

Kristy looked cross. "I guess we should probably think about a permanent replacement."

"Oh, not yet," Claudia pleaded. "Let's give it a little more time. I mean, we're okay, aren't we?"

Everyone looked at me, probably because I'm the one who does the scheduling. "We're fine," I said. "Especially since Shannon has made herself available to help out more. She doesn't get to every meeting, but she gets to most of them."

Shannon gave us a rea.s.suring smile. "I'm here whenever you need me."

There was a collective sigh of relief. None of us even wanted to think about replacing Stacey. It was too uncomfortable.

"Okay!" Kristy dapped her hands together. "Back to Babar. Why don't we talk to our charges about the Babar campaign this week? Find out if they're interested."

"Why don't we do a survey?" I suggested.

"I could divide up the client list in no time."

Kristy gave me a thumbs-up sign. I pulled some paper out of the back of the record book, and started writing furiously.