Sea City, Here We Come!

  “That’s so sweet, Karen!” I said. “I don’t care what it says. It’s the thought that counts.”

  We walked on in silence. But just before we reached the house, Karen’s face lit up. “See you!” she said, and she raced inside.

  David Michael, Andrew, and I walked into a living room decorated with streamers and balloons. “Surprise!” Mom and Watson called out.

  A few minutes later Nannie and Karen came in from the kitchen. Karen was proudly holding a cake. The icing looked smudged, but the letters were clear enough.

  They said GOOD-BYE, COACH!

  “We’re going to miss you, Kristy,” Karen said.

  I had been so busy with the Krushers, I’d almost forgotten about Sea City. I was leaving the next day!

  I suddenly felt much happier.

  “Oh, thanks, you guys,” I said. “I’ll miss you, too.”

  My “victory” party? Well, it turned into the nicest farewell celebration I could imagine.

  “AAAAAAAAAGGGGGHHHHHH!”

  No, that was not the cry of the Wicked Witch of the West as she melted.

  It was the happy screaming of seven Baby-sitters Club members. (Well, there were eight of us, but Logan managed to keep his jubilation to a boyish smile.)

  Claudia, Dawn, Kristy, Mary Anne, and Logan had arrived with Mrs. Barrett’s boyfriend, Franklin Harris. He has four kids from a previous marriage: Lindsey (who’s eight), Taylor (six), Madeleine (four), and Ryan (two).

  Ten people in a van! No wonder they looked so happy to be out.

  The conversation sounded like this:

  “We had such a …”

  “… feels so good …”

  “… Mini-Camp …”

  “… six new players …”

  “… I missed you …”

  “… me too …”

  “… Rosebud …”

  “… summer school …”

  “… Elvira …”

  “… you should have seen …”

  Finally Kristy stuck her fingers in her mouth and let out a loud whistle. “Okay, let’s get settled first! Then we can catch up!”

  Once a president, always a president.

  The Pikes had worked out sleeping arrangements with Mrs. Barrett. Dawn would stay at the Barretts’ to take care of Franklin’s kids. Logan, Kristy, Claudia, and Mary Anne would stay at the Pikes’. On Monday night, Logan would go back to Stoneybrook with Franklin and his gang (Logan had to work on Tuesday), and then Dawn would move to the Pikes’.

  I wasn’t thrilled about that last part. I kind of wished Mrs. Barrett would say, “Oh, the Pikes’ house is so crowded. Surely Dawn can stay with us!”

  Uh-uh, no way, didn’t even think of it.

  Well, that was understandable, I guess. After all, Dawn had been invited by the Pikes in the first place.

  Dawn and I ran upstairs to my room. A trundle bed was there, and I had set it up for her.

  “We’re roommates!” Dawn squealed, plopping her suitcase on the bed.

  “Yeah!” I squealed back.

  Dawn pulled a bathing suit out of her suitcase and began to change. “Tell me everything, Stacey. Claudia told me you saw Toby. And he acted as if nothing had happened.”

  I sighed. “Yeah. What a dork. I just said, ‘Hit the road, Jack. You’re blocking my sunlight.’”

  Dawn screamed. “No! You didn’t.”

  “You’re right. I didn’t. But I was really cold to him. And you know what that creep did? He started flirting with Mallory!”

  “Mallory? No! Serious?”

  “Serious. She and I haven’t been talking much.”

  “Has he asked her out?”

  “Oh, my lord, no! She’d have told me that! Besides, he’s not interested in her. She’s eleven.”

  We gossiped for a few more minutes. I told her a little about how difficult Mrs. Barrett had been, but I didn’t go into details. It was noon, and I’d promised Mrs. Barrett we’d take the kids to the beach.

  We gathered up the kids and trooped next door to the Pikes’. Everybody was ready, and Kristy began lining us up in front of the porch as if we were in a race.

  “Come on, take your positions,” she ordered us.

  “Kristyyyy,” Dawn said.

  “On your marks …”

  Dawn and I sighed. Buddy and his sisters thought this was a great idea. So did Franklin’s kids.

  “Get set…. GO!”

  Kristy, Claudia, Mary Anne, Jessi, Mal, Nicky, Margo, Vanessa, Claire, Buddy, Suzi, Marnie, Lindsey, Taylor, Madeleine, Ryan, Dawn, and I all began running. Sand flew everywhere. Our charges shrieked with joy. Then I shrieked. Then Dawn. Then everyone else — including Mary Anne.

  Logan was already on the beach, playing Frisbee with the triplets. The boys stared at us as if we were a landing of alien invaders.

  I didn’t care. We were all here. It was the happiest I’d felt in a week!

  * * *

  In case we were wondering whether Kristy’s Idea Power diminished outside of Stoneybrook, we found out that day.

  It didn’t.

  Somehow Kristy had devised a way to convince the grown-ups to take the kids for a half hour. From five-thirty to six. Do you know why?

  You guessed it. A Baby-sitters Club meeting!

  Without phones, without records, without dues. The best kind.

  We gathered in the Pikes’ kitchen, still in our bathing suits. The wind was whipping in from the sea, through the screen door. We wrapped our towels around us.

  Mal had decided to change before the meeting. When she entered the kitchen, she saw an empty chair between Jessi and me.

  She decided to stand near the doorway. (Which, to be honest, was okay with me.)

  A radio was droning on the windowsill. As we gabbed away, Kristy shushed us.

  “… low pressure system moving in tonight, the lows in the upper fifties. This is WCCT, Sea City. The time at the tone will be five-thirty….”

  At the sound of the beeeeep, Kristy pounded her fist on the table. “I call this meeting to order!”

  A plastic salt shaker clattered to the floor.

  Claudia rolled her eyes. “Puh-leeze, Kristy.”

  “I hearby declare a special emergency gossip session of the Baby-sitters Club,” Kristy went on.

  We cheered.

  “First, a report from the president regarding the Krushers’ heartbreaking loss!”

  Kristy told us every detail of her game. Then Claudia described her new summer school pals and cracked us up with an imitation of her teacher. Dawn and Mary Anne talked about Mini-Camp and the sleepover. Then us Sea Cityers told of our adventures down here.

  I hadn’t laughed so hard in a long, long time. We were gasping.

  I couldn’t help but notice that Logan didn’t say much. He looked sort of tired. I thought he might have felt left out, so I asked, “How’s your job, Logan? Do you still like it?”

  He shrugged. “It’s okay, I guess. Hard work, though.”

  That was it from the male camp. Oh, well. I figured he was too exhausted to say much. Or maybe the job was boring.

  In the conversation’s lull, we could hear the radio again:

  “… we have a report now that Tropical Storm Bill is picking up speed and moving northwest, about four hundred miles off the coast of Jamaica. It’s too early to tell what will happen, but if it continues in its current path it could become the first major hurricane of the year …”

  “Wow,” Jessi said. “I’m glad we’re not in Jamaica.”

  I’d never been in a hurricane. I wondered if it was like a tornado. I started thinking about The Wizard of Oz.

  Then Claudia remembered another funny story about summer school. Kristy turned the radio off, and we began laughing our heads off again.

  The Road Spud is my nickname for the Rosebud Cafe. Actually, I didn’t make it up. It’s kind of a busboy tradition to call it that. You can say it and no one realizes you’re making fun of the name.

  But
enough of that. That’s another story.

  Anyway, there I was in Sea City. I was really happy to see Mary Anne. I was not happy to be the only male among the entire Baby-sitters Club for two whole days — but I could deal with that.

  I mean, the BSC members are some of my best friends. They’re nice and funny and smart. They’re just not guys (duh, bet you didn’t know that). Which means when I’m in a room with them, they sometimes feel they can’t talk normally to each other.

  Do you know what it’s like to be surrounded by seven girls who love to yak but can’t go all out? It’s awkward. Awkward? I break into a sweat that feels like a monster slimed my shirt collar.

  But to tell you the truth, things were pretty cool at Sea City. Everyone seemed relaxed in our impromptu kitchen meeting. There was hardly any giggling-with-hands-over-mouths or funny looks at me and Mary Anne.

  I have to admit I was thinking of something else. Just slightly. You see, Mary Anne met this guy named Alex down here.

  Now I don’t want you to think I’m a raving jealous type. I’m really not. Besides, Mary Anne told me they were only friends, and I believe her. And Alex supposedly has a girlfriend back home. But I don’t know. Sea City is a romantic spot, and Mary Anne and Alex went out to eat together and stuff, and just the idea that she and he were enjoying a vacation here while I was in Stoneybrook….

  Well, what can I say? I’m human. It bugged me.

  But just a little.

  After the BSC meeting, Mary Anne and I took a walk along the beach. It was cool outside, like fall, which meant Mary Anne snuggled up close to me, which I liked a lot.

  “Logan, it feels so good to be here with you,” she said.

  “Yeah,” I answered. “Do you miss being a mother’s helper?”

  She snuggled closer and smiled. “Not now.”

  We passed about fifty yards’ worth of monster sand castle construction. I saw some incredibly complex stuff, but that work seemed like such a waste. I mean, it’s sand. Sooner or later it all has to come down.

  Just beyond the construction site was a jetty. Beyond that was a group of kids playing. Two guys, about our age, were taking care of them.

  “Hi!” Mary Anne shouted.

  The kids turned around. So did the two guys. They grinned when they saw us.

  Mary Anne ran excitedly toward them. I followed, at a slower pace.

  The kids excitedly showed Mary Anne their castles and holes.

  When I reached them, Mary Anne said, “Logan, this is Toby and this is Alex.”

  “Hey, how’s it going?” Toby said.

  “What’s up?” Alex asked. “Mary Anne told me all about you.”

  Both were still grinning. They stuck out their hands and I shook them.

  So this was Alex.

  He was pretty good-looking, I noticed. I wouldn’t cast him in a teen heart-throb movie, but as looks go, his were solid.

  Mary Anne took my arm and squeezed close to me.

  “Pretty cool out tonight,” I said.

  (Well, I had to say something.)

  “Brrrrrr,” Mary Anne agreed, holding me tighter.

  I got the feeling Mary Anne wanted to make sure Alex knew I was her boyfriend.

  “Yeah,” Alex said. “Well, just as long as we don’t get hit by Bill.”

  It took me a minute to realize he meant the tropical storm.

  We fell silent then, just kind of smiling and nodding and shifting weight. Then one of the kids called out, “Alex, look at my maze!”

  “Well, nice meeting you!” Alex said. “Got to go!”

  Everyone said good-bye. Mary Anne and I turned and walked back to the Pikes’.

  And that was that. I think Mary Anne was nervous, but I felt fine. I mean, it was no big deal. There’s no law that a guy’s girlfriend must never have any male friends.

  Anyway, I was bigger than him.

  * * *

  Alex was not mentioned the rest of the night. I made sure of it. I didn’t want to blow up anything that really wasn’t important.

  Dinner at the Pikes’ was a madhouse. We cooked up eight pounds of hamburger meat and twenty-seven hot dogs.

  Afterward, Mary Anne and I had an actual date on the boardwalk. What a place! We took a long romantic stroll … until I saw bumper cars.

  “We have to go on these!” I said.

  So we did. Then we played arcade games. Then I won a stuffed penguin for Mary Anne in ring toss — and she won a pair of (cheap) sunglasses for me.

  We ate some homemade fudge, then some homemade taffy, then took a ride on the Ferris wheel (which was almost not a good idea after eating so much).

  I felt like a kid again. Sea City was even more fantastic than I had expected. Mary Anne and I didn’t stop laughing. I felt so close to her.

  And that was when I started thinking about guess who. I know it was ridiculous, but I couldn’t help it. Okay. If I were a guy, a friend of Mary Anne’s, and we decided, hey, let’s go on a friendly walk, maybe ride the Ferris wheel, have a cone, visit the arcade, watch the sunset on the water…. Do you get the idea? I mean, you’d have to be made of cardboard not to feel all warm and lovey-dovey inside.

  Wouldn’t you?

  I tried to put it out of my mind. I dragged Mary Anne to the Haunted House. (That took some bargaining. I had to promise to watch the glassblower afterward.) On the way there, we heard some tourists saying, “Do they dismantle the rides during a hurricane?”

  That made me laugh. “Isn’t it amazing?” I said. “This tropical storm is a thousand miles away, making up its mind where to go —”

  “I know,” Mary Anne said. “And people are so sure it’s going to march right into Sea City.”

  We stood in line and prepared for something really spooky. To be honest, I don’t care much for haunted house-type rides. But the Tunnel of Luv was closed for repairs, so this was the next best thing.

  Mary Anne looked scared. That made me smile. At least I could be reasonably sure she hadn’t gone in there with — well, anyone else.

  There were some things I couldn’t tell Mrs. McGill in my postcard. Like how rude her daughter was being. And how wonderful that day really was.

  It started out pretty typically. Beach, lunch, more beach. But Margo and Nicky got bored, so I took them into Sea City for a couple of hours.

  Every few yards along the boardwalk are these binoculars, perched on swiveling posts. For a quarter, you can gaze around for about two minutes.

  Nicky and Margo both wanted turns. I let them use two neighboring binoculars. “I see a kid changing outside!” Nicky yelled.

  “Oh, yeah?” Margo replied. “Well, I see a shark.”

  “You do? Where?”

  “You can only see it on this one.”

  “Oh, go wash your head in bubble gum.” Nicky swung his binoculars around to look at Margo. “Ew! Ew! I see a slimy, snaggle-faced blubberfish!”

  Margo pulled her face away from the binoculars and looked at Nicky. “Where? … Oh, you little — Mallory! He called me a — something bad.”

  I decided to change the subject. “Hey, who wants to go into town to play miniature golf?”

  “Me!” they both shouted.

  I don’t know why I said that. The moment the words left my mouth, I regretted them. The last time the Pikes played miniature golf, we made half of Sea City mad at us for taking so many strokes to get through the course.

  Oh, well, with only three of us it might not be so bad.

  We left the boardwalk. When we reached the main drag, Nicky called out, “Look! Gurber Garden! Can we go in?”

  “But we already ate,” I replied.

  “Just to look,” Margo said, as if going to look at the inside of a hamburger place were something everybody did. The “Gurber Garden” was actually Claire’s name for a restaurant called “Burger Garden.”

  “Yup, they still have that secret delicious orange sauce,” Nicky the gourmet remarked when we were inside. “Mustard mixed with ketchup. They
do the work for you.”

  When we came out, we saw a clown juggling on the boardwalk. He was wearing a sandwich board that said DIXIE BROTHERS CIRCUS. “Come to the circus this Sunday!” he shouted. “One day only!”

  “Ooooh, can we go? Please!” the kids asked.

  “We have to ask Mom and Dad,” I told them. “Now, come on!”

  Next stop was Fred’s Putt-Putt Course. I half expected our faces to be plastered to the walls of the rental place, like WANTED posters, reading: DO NOT RENT TO THESE PEOPLE.

  But all I saw was a Sea City Savings Bank calendar and a rate schedule. I rented three putt-putt clubs, and we were off.

  There was a line, not too long, made up mostly of kids. (Thank goodness. Maybe we wouldn’t be the slowest ones.)

  As we drew closer to the rental desk, a couple of the little boys in line began to look familiar. They turned around at the sound of a voice behind us saying, “No Coke, just 7Up and Dr Pepper!”

  I spun around. Standing at a soda machine, almost hidden by the rental building, was Toby.

  “Dr Pepper!” one of the boys called out.

  “Me too!” the other one said.

  “Can we get Dr Peppers, too? Pleeeeeease?” Margo asked.

  “Sure!” I said.

  What a great idea. I was happy to go to the machine.

  As I walked to it, I said, “Hi.” (Not original, I know.)

  “Oh, hi, uh — wait, don’t tell me … Mallory!” Toby said.

  He remembered! “Right … Toby,” I replied.

  “Hey, we’re batting a thousand! Can I get your sodas? I have lots of quarters.”

  “No, that’s okay,” I said.

  I noticed Toby had two Dr Peppers and one 7Up. I made sure to get the same.

  While I was putting the money in, he waited for me. He waited to walk me back to the line!

  I mean, it was only about twenty steps, but still I could tell Toby was a sweet guy.

  Toby’s charges, Ben and Peter, were eight and six years old. They’d already met Nicky and Margo at the beach. The four kids were blabbering away like old friends.

  “Hey, we’re next for rentals,” Toby said.

  “Uh-huh,” I replied.

  “Why don’t we do this together?”