Kristy Thomas, Dog Trainer

  “I can tell Scout’s really smart,” Claudia said.

  “How?” I asked, secretly pleased.

  “I just can,” said Claudia loftily. “Artists have their ways. Oh, wow. I just had a terrific idea. Scout would make a great subject for an art piece.”

  “Would you like that, girl?” Shannon crooned. And Scout, since she was a very smart puppy, naturally wagged her tail, which this time didn’t mean she was uncertain, I knew. It meant “Yes!”

  Claudia was right about Scout being smart. I saw it was true the very next morning when I stumbled out onto the pavement, yawning. “Get busy,” I said sleepily to Scout.

  And you know what? She did, right away!

  * * *

  “This meeting of the BSC will now come to order,” I announced. “No, Scout.”

  Scout was chewing on the leg of my chair.

  “It’s okay,” said Claudia. “It’s an old chair.”

  “She can’t learn bad habits.” Gently I pulled Scout away from the chair leg and offered her the Nylabone I had brought. Nylabones are special bones that don’t splinter or break off.

  Without missing a chomp, Scout settled down with the Nylabone. Didn’t I say she was smart?

  Stacey looked at Abby and said, “Is this going to be okay, Abby? I mean, I know you’re allergic to dogs.”

  “Omigosh,” I said. I’d totally forgotten.

  Abby just grinned. “I’m sitting next to an open window, it’s only for half an hour, and if it gets too bad, I’ll go outside. But I think it will be okay.”

  Relieved, I leaned back.

  Claudia eyed Scout and said, “Does she always have to wear that little yellow coat?”

  I nodded. “It identifies her. Later she’ll learn to wear a special harness for guiding blind people. Right now we have to get her used to going different places, since she’ll have to go anywhere her owner goes.”

  “Like McDonald’s?” Claudia asked.

  “Or the ballet?” Jessi asked.

  “Everywhere,” I said. “The law says a guide dog can go anywhere a person can go.”

  “And she has to learn to go to all those places and behave, right?” Mallory put in.

  “Right,” I said.

  Just then the phone rang. Claudia picked it up and answered, “Baby-sitters Club.” She listened for a moment and said, “One second, please.”

  Claud put her hand over the receiver, turned to us, and said, “It’s the Coopers. I mean, it’s Mrs. Cooper. She wanted to confirm the sitting job for tomorrow.”

  Mary Anne flipped open the record book. “I’ll be there after school,” she said.

  Claudia told her Mary Anne would be there.

  After Claudia had hung up, Abby said, “Shannon told Anna that Deb won’t talk to anybody. Her friends at school have tried to call her and to visit her, and she won’t talk to them.”

  “You can’t blame her,” said Jessi. “It all happened so quickly. She must still be in shock.”

  In a soft voice, Mary Anne said, “I’d want to talk to my friends.”

  “Sometimes if you have a problem, like when I first found out I had diabetes,” Stacey volunteered, “and you think maybe people are treating you differently because they feel sorry for you, it makes you, well, uncomfortable.”

  Abby said, “It wouldn’t make me uncomfortable. It would make me really angry. I never want anyone to treat me differently because of my asthma or my allergies.”

  Our eyes met for a moment and then we both sort of smiled. Abby and I had had some problems when she’d first joined the BSC for that very reason. I had been worried that her asthma and allergies would interfere with her being an effective baby-sitter.

  Boy, had she ever proved me wrong!

  Mary Anne didn’t say anything. She folded her hands tightly together, and I could tell she was upset.

  Quickly I said, “Don’t worry, Mary Anne. You’re not baby-sitting for Deb, just her brothers. It’ll be okay.”

  But Mary Anne shook her head. “I’m not worried about that,” she said. “I just wish I could make Deb feel better. I wish there was something I could do.”

  Then she leaned forward and pressed her cheek against the top of Scout’s head. Scout stopped chewing her bone long enough to tip her muzzle back and give Mary Anne’s chin a quick lick.

  “Good girl,” I heard Mary Anne murmur. “Good girl.”

  Mark Cooper is eight and Jed is four, and they are outgoing kids, full of energy and ready for anything. Mark has dark curly hair and glasses and is a sturdy kid who is fond of sports and comic books. Jed, with lighter brown hair, also curly, has a recently developed fascination with puzzles and dinosaurs.

  Since the day was gray and drizzly, Mary Anne wasn’t surprised to find Jed on the floor with the pieces of a giant dinosaur puzzle spread out around him. He was holding one piece in his hand.

  “Don’t tell me!” he commanded as Mary Anne walked into the family room, where Mrs. Cooper had sent her after answering the door. She’d conferred with Mary Anne briefly, then hurried away, looking harried.

  Jed leaned forward and pressed the piece into place. “See? I knew where it was supposed to go.”

  Mark, who was sprawled on the sofa with a comic book, shook his head. “I don’t think so,” he said. “I think you got lucky.”

  “When you get eaten by a dinosaur,” said Jed placidly, “you’ll be sorry.”

  “Hi, guys,” Mary Anne interrupted. From the hall, she heard Mrs. Cooper say, “Deb, please.”

  “Is she down there?” Mary Anne heard Deb say.

  “Mary Anne? Yes. I told you, she’s sitting for Mark and Jed.”

  “Close the door,” Deb demanded.

  Mrs. Cooper appeared in the doorway, glanced into the family room, and saw that Mary Anne had heard. She smiled. “Don’t forget your homework, Mark. Mary Anne, we’ll be back very soon,” Mrs. Cooper said brightly, closing the door between the hall and the family room. A minute later, Mary Anne heard two sets of footsteps: Mrs. Cooper’s heavier tread and another pair of feet making slow, uncertain steps, like a child learning to walk.

  Then the back door opened and closed, and they were gone.

  Mary Anne felt her throat tighten. She knew the second set of footsteps had belonged to Deb, who was trying to negotiate a familiar hall made unfamiliar by darkness.

  Glancing over at the two boys, Mary Anne wondered if they were ignoring what had just happened, or if it really hadn’t made an impression on them. Jed was intently studying another puzzle piece featuring the toothy grin of a T-rex. Mark was staring down at his comic book with equal intensity.

  Taking a deep breath, Mary Anne said, “Your mother mentioned something about homework, Mark.”

  Mark rolled his eyes. “I’m too young to have homework.”

  “Mark,” Mary Anne insisted, hiding a smile.

  “Oh, all right. I’m supposed to read another chapter of Nate the Great.”

  “I know that book,” Mary Anne offered. “It’s a good one. You want to read it aloud to me?”

  “Me too,” Jed chimed in. “Read to me too.”

  “How does that sound, Mark?” Mary Anne asked.

  Mark shrugged. “Okay.”

  Of course, they couldn’t start reading right away. Mark had to explain what the book was about to Jed. Then Jed said that he had a book he wanted to read. Then Mark claimed that he should go first, which of course made Jed protest.

  “We’ll have plenty of time to read from both books,” Mary Anne promised. “But we’ll start with Mark, because he has to do this for school. Okay, Jed? Then we’ll take a break and make some popcorn and read your book.”

  Jed thought for a minute. Then he nodded and climbed up next to Mary Anne on the sofa. He gave Mark a look and said, “Come on, Mark. So we can have popcorn.”

  But when Mark finished the chapter, Jed had changed his mind. “Read more,” he pleaded.

  “You want to read another chapter?” Mary Anne ask
ed Mark.

  Mark looked pleased. “Okay,” he said.

  When he had finished the second chapter, Mark crowed triumphantly, “Ha, I’m ahead of everybody.”

  “My turn now,” Jed announced. “Then we can have popcorn.”

  They had just finished reading Jed’s book when the back door opened and Mrs. Cooper called, “We’re home.”

  Mary Anne got up and followed Jed and Mark into the kitchen. Mrs. Cooper and Deb were standing there. Deb was motionless except for her head, which she turned from side to side. She was wearing dark glasses, and she seemed to be scrunched up inside her clothes, as if she wanted to hide in them.

  “Hi, guys,” Mrs. Cooper said, ruffling Jed’s hair. “Can you believe it? Dr. Whitehurst saw us right away.”

  “Having a blind person in her waiting room is bad for business, that’s why,” Deb spat.

  “Now, Deb,” said her mother while Mary Anne tried not to look shocked. “You don’t mean that.” She patted her daughter’s arm.

  “Don’t I?” Deb jerked her arm away.

  Mrs. Cooper glanced at Mary Anne and said, “I need to run across the street and feed our neighbors’ cats, water their plants, and bring in their mail and newspapers — they’re on vacation. Could I leave Deb here with you?”

  “Sure,” Mary Anne answered. “We were about to make some popcorn if that’s okay.”

  “Popcorn,” Deb repeated in a scornful voice.

  “How about some fruit and cookies or crackers? You like those,” Mrs. Cooper asked her. She caught Deb by the elbow. “Why don’t you sit here at the table, sweetie, and —”

  Again, Deb jerked her arm free of her mother. “I can find my way to the table,” she snapped. “And I don’t need a baby-sitter!”

  Walking away from Mrs. Cooper, Deb bumped into a chair at the table. The chair fell. Deb groped as if she were trying to stop it, but when her hands met the edge of the table, she held on. Mary Anne saw that her knuckles were white.

  Mark quickly picked up the chair. “Here, Deb,” he said. “The chair is right in front of you.”

  Without speaking, Deb reached out with one hand, found the chair, and lowered herself carefully into the seat. Then, still gripping the table edge, she scooted the chair up to it.

  “I’ll be right back,” Mrs. Cooper assured Mary Anne and hurried out the kitchen door.

  For a moment, everyone was silent. Then Deb turned in Mary Anne’s general direction and said, “What’s the matter, Mary Anne? Haven’t you ever seen a blind person before?”

  “No,” Mary Anne replied, before she could think. Then she turned bright red.

  Jed said suddenly, “I’ll go pick up my puzzle! I’ll be right back.”

  He sounded so stricken with guilt that Mary Anne told him, “Jed, it’s okay. You haven’t finished it yet.”

  “No, it’s not okay,” Jed insisted. “We have to pick things up and we can’t move things around because Deb can’t see them anymore and she might fall.”

  Then he disappeared down the hall.

  Deb said in a harsh voice, “My clothes are organized by color now. That’s so I don’t wear things that don’t match. I’m supposed to know what colors are in what drawers. How’d I do? Am I wearing something gross?”

  “You look nice,” Mary Anne said.

  “Ha,” Deb replied.

  Mary Anne took a deep breath. She went to the refrigerator and said, “Let’s see — there are grapes and oranges in the refrigerator. And where’s the popcorn?”

  “We have graham crackers,” Mark said. “I like graham crackers. We don’t need popcorn.” Mary Anne saw him sneak a look at his sister, then look away.

  “Okay. That sounds like a pretty good snack,” Mary Anne said. She got out the grapes, washed them, and put them in a bowl. She handed Mark a plate so he could spread the graham crackers on it. Then she cut an orange into sections and put them on a plate on the table. By that time, Jed had returned.

  Mark put an orange slice, some graham crackers, and some grapes on a plate and pushed it toward his sister. “Here, Deb,” he offered. “Your snack is right in front of you.”

  “I’m not hungry,” she stated flatly. Then she said to Mary Anne, “Mary Anne, do I look different?”

  Mary Anne looked at Deb. She was an older version of Mark, an athletic girl with short dark hair. But in contrast to Mark’s ruddy complexion, Deb was pale and thinner than Mary Anne remembered her to be. Her dark glasses unnerved Mary Anne.

  “I don’t know,” Mary Anne answered carefully. “Do you have to wear — I mean — the sunglasses?”

  Ignoring the question, Deb said, “It doesn’t matter what I look like. It’s not my problem. I don’t have to look at me. I can’t see me. I can’t see anything.” She began to laugh.

  Where was Mrs. Cooper? Mary Anne glanced toward the door and then said desperately, trying to stop the edgy laughter that was coming from Deb, “Have a cracker, Deb. Don’t you at least want a cracker?”

  Deb pushed back from the table. “Polly doesn’t want a cracker!” She stood up and the chair went over again with a crash. “I don’t need a cracker. I don’t need a baby-sitter. I can take care of myself. I can, I can, I can.”

  Mrs. Cooper came rushing through the back door as Deb’s voice rose. “Deb, dear,” she said in an anguished tone.

  “Leave me alone!” Deb screamed. “You don’t know what it’s like. You don’t know. One minute you can see and the next minute you’re blind. I can’t even remember the last thing I saw before I — I —”

  Deb threw her hands out. The table rocked. Juice spilled and grapes rolled from the plate. Her mother put her arms around Deb as Deb began to cry hot, angry tears.

  Mary Anne immediately began trying to clean up the mess, hardly knowing what she was doing.

  “That’s okay,” Mrs. Cooper told her. “Just leave it. And thanks, Mary Anne. I’ll take care of everything now.”

  Mary Anne jumped up. “Okay,” she replied. She said good-bye to Mark and Jed and left as quickly as she could.

  Mary Anne left in a hurry partly because she didn’t know how to react to what had just happened, but also because the lump had come back into her throat and she was afraid she might start to cry herself.

  Deb was as angry as anyone Mary Anne had ever seen, and Mary Anne’s heart broke for her.

  But nothing she could think of to say or do would be any help. Mary Anne knew the only person who could help Deb now was Deb. And Mary Anne suspected that Deb was much too angry to even begin to try.

  Did I mention how smart Scout was? She was totally, totally brilliant. She’d already more or less figured out house-training when we got her. She hardly ever made a mistake. The more we trained her, the calmer she seemed.

  Not that she didn’t break into puppy wiggles and tail-wagging marathons whenever she met anyone. To Scout, everyone in the whole world was a potential best friend. And of course, most people fell in love with her the moment they saw her.

  But we still couldn’t let her jump up on people to say hello. She had to sit politely before we would let one of her admirers pet her.

  You’d be amazed at the number of people who said, “Oh, it’s okay,” when Scout jumped up. But I kept explaining that it wasn’t okay, since Scout was in training for a very important job (just in case they hadn’t noticed her beautiful guide-dog-in-training jacket).

  I quickly learned to answer all kinds of questions. One person even asked me if Scout was blind! I explained that she wasn’t, but that someday she’d act as the “eyes” for a blind person.

  As soon as we got Scout, we started taking her everywhere. When Watson went into his office, he took Scout. Mom took her to work too. Nannie took her to her bowling league and to her garden club meetings.

  And of course I took her to BSC meetings.

  The second time I took her, I was sure to get there early. Claudia immediately said, “Oh, I guess I’d better put the snacks away.”

  “Nope. Pa
ss them around,” I ordered. “Scout has to learn not to beg.”

  “It seems so mean,” Claudia said. But from the way her hand was clutching the bag of Cheez Doodles, I knew that I wouldn’t have to work too hard to persuade her to keep the junk food out and available.

  I clinched it by saying, “Besides, if it were chocolate, you couldn’t give Scout a piece anyway. Chocolate is really bad for dogs and can even kill some of them.”

  “Oh, right,” said Claudia. She put the Cheez Doodles on her desk and bent down to scratch Scout behind her ears. Scout immediately began to wriggle. We both laughed. Scout had held her sitting position — but only by wagging practically her entire body.

  Abby came in and said, “Twist and shout, it’s little Scout!”

  “You’re starting to sound like Vanessa,” said Mal, who followed Abby into Claudia’s room. Vanessa is Mal’s next-youngest sister and wants to be a poet, something she practices at every spoken or written opportunity.

  “Thanks, Mal. You’re a pal,” Abby replied.

  We groaned. Then Jessi came in with Mary Anne and Stacey, and I pronounced, “This meeting of the Baby-sitters Club will come to order.”

  We spent the rest of the meeting rubbing Scout’s stomach and talking baby talk to her. I figured it was good baby-sitting practice.

  In the middle of our Scout-admiration session, Mr. Cooper called. He needed someone to stay with Deb the following Thursday afternoon.

  I told him I’d call him back and hung up the phone. Mary Anne paused before she flipped open the record book. We’d all heard about her encounter with Deb and knew that staying with her wouldn’t be an easy job.

  Mary Anne said, “I have the Hobarts that afternoon and Claudia has the Kuhns. Jessi has dance class and Mal has a dentist appointment….”

  “Thanks for reminding me,” muttered Mallory.

  “And Stacey —”

  “— has major homework,” Stacey finished for her.

  Mary Anne nodded and made a note in the record book. Then she said, “That leaves you, Kristy. Maybe you’ll have better luck with Deb than I did.”

  “Maybe,” I said. “It helps to know what to expect.”