I headed up to my room, but I didn’t start my homework. I had something more important to think about: my Plan, with a capital P. I just knew it would work. It had to.
Here’s what I had figured out: Hilary’s weak spot. She was always looking for Mme Noelle’s approval. Of course, everybody in the class was doing the same thing, since we all wanted to please our teacher. But Hilary really seemed to have a need for Mme Noelle to think she was perfect. Maybe it was because of her mother. Mrs. Morgan has such high expectations of Hilary.
Anyway, I thought I could somehow use that personality trait to trap Hilary. I just had to make her believe that Mme Noelle wanted her to do something — and then she’d do it without thinking.
I was really concentrating. What could Mme Noelle need from Hilary? Something that she’d have to write, of course, so that I’d know for sure that that special pen really did belong to her. And it would have to be something she’d need in a hurry, so that Hilary wouldn’t have time to think about it.
A program for the performance? No, the programs were probably being printed professionally, and Hilary would know that. Invitations to our dress rehearsal? Too complicated. I had to keep it simple. What about some kind of sign?
A sign. That was it! Now my mind was racing. I pictured the scene:
Hilary writes something down. Then she realizes that she’s been caught. She breaks down and confesses everything, apologizes all over the place, and tries to make me promise not to tell. But I won’t. Instead, I march her in to see Mme Noelle, who tells her she’s going to have to drop out of dance school. The End!
I knew that the last part of my imagined scene probably wouldn’t come true. Most likely, Madame would just give Hilary a warning. But I knew that my plan would work. There was no way it could fail. I practiced over and over again how I was going to get Hilary to write something for me, until I felt that it was perfect. I couldn’t wait for my next rehearsal.
Once I’d gotten my plan set, I turned to my homework. I couldn’t afford to get behind in my classes, no matter how busy I was with rehearsals. But I’d only had my social studies book open for a few minutes when I heard a knock on my door.
“Come in!” I said.
The door opened slowly, and Becca peeked around it. “Can I talk to you for a minute?” she asked.
“Sure, Becca,” I said. “What’s the matter?” She looked upset about something. I realized suddenly that I hadn’t been paying much attention to her lately. I’d been too caught up in solving the mystery of the phantom. I closed my book and told her to sit down.
“It’s the pet show,” she said, looking at her shoes. “I don’t want to go to it.”
“Becca, why not?” I asked. “It’s going to be so much fun!”
“No it’s not,” she said. “Not if I can’t win a prize.”
I frowned. “But who says you won’t win one?” I asked. “Misty’s a great pet.”
She shook her head. “I know. But she’s only a hamster! How can she win any prizes? Everybody else has much better pets.”
“Like who?” I asked.
“Like Charlotte,” she said. “Charlotte is going to enter Carrot in the show, and Carrot can do all kinds of tricks. Did you ever see him say his prayers?”
Charlotte Johannsen is Becca’s best friend. She’s also one of the kids we sit for regularly. And her dog, Carrot, is pretty cute. When you tell him to say his prayers, he puts his paws in your lap and lays his head down on top of them.
“And David Michael is going to enter Shannon,” continued Becca. “I’m sure Shannon will win a prize.”
“Becca,” I said gently, “there are going to be all kinds of pets in the show. And they all have an equal chance of winning a prize.”
She didn’t look convinced.
“Misty’s brother is going to be in the show,” I said. “And Nicky and Margo and Claire and Vanessa aren’t worried about whether Frodo will win a prize. They just think the show will be fun.”
I wasn’t really sure about that, but it didn’t hurt to say it. “And guess what Linny Papadakis is entering — a turtle!” I said. “Don’t you think that’s kind of funny?”
Becca shook her head, refusing to smile. I talked to her for awhile, but I couldn’t convince her that winning a prize didn’t matter. Finally, I just gave her a big hug and told her it was bedtime. Poor Becca. She had her heart set on winning a prize, and Misty wasn’t a very impressive pet.
Then, as I was tucking her in, I had an idea. Could it work? I went back to my room and thought it over. Then I went downstairs to the phone in the kitchen. I dialed a number.
“Hello?”
“Kristy!” I said. “This is Jessi. I just got the best idea!”
I told Mallory about my plan for catching Hilary while we ate lunch at school the next day. “Do you think it’ll work?” I asked her.
“I don’t know …” she said. “It sounds like your timing is going to have to be perfect if you want to catch her alone in the dressing room.”
“You’re right,” I replied. “And I don’t want to end up being late for rehearsal, either.”
“Maybe you should do it after rehearsal,” Mal said. “Does Hilary usually take a long time to get changed?”
I told Mal that she did.
“Great! Don’t you think that would work better?”
I nodded. It was good to go over my plan with someone else. Mallory and I talked about it for the whole lunch period, polishing every detail until it seemed just right.
“When’s your next rehearsal?” she asked, when the lunch bell rang.
I groaned. “Not until Thursday!” I couldn’t believe I had to wait that long. It was only Tuesday.
“Don’t worry,” said Mal. “You’ve got a great plan, and I’m positive it’s going to work.”
If only I could be so sure. It was hard not to worry. This was going to be my only chance to trap Hilary. I spent the next days thinking about the plan, going over it in my head, practicing what I was going to say, and imagining how Hilary would react.
I’m sure that my parents thought something was wrong with me, but they must have chalked it up to my being nervous about the performance, which was coming up soon. At dinner I would stare into space, forgetting to eat, while I pictured Hilary’s shocked face. At breakfast, I would forget what I was doing and pour the milk into my cereal bowl until it overflowed.
Aunt Cecelia seemed suspicious, too — but she didn’t say anything. She just gave me sharp looks as we washed the dishes together. I tried not to show how preoccupied I was, but it was hard.
Becca got the worst of it, I’m sure. She was still upset about the pet show, which was going to be held that weekend. But I was just too distracted to give her any more consolation and advice than I already had. I was happy to hear that she had decided to go to the pet show after all, and that she was going to enter Misty. She was trying to figure out how to make her more — “special.” Once, I had to stop her from trying to squeeze Misty into one of her Barbie doll’s evening dresses.
Squirt was probably the only member of my family who didn’t notice that there was something on my mind. Or maybe he did, and he didn’t care. As long as I was around to give him “hawssy rides” (horsey rides), he didn’t mind my distracted attitude.
On Tuesday night, I had a dream about trapping Hilary. In my dream, she got to her knees on the dressing room floor and begged me to forgive her.
On Wednesday afternoon we had a club meeting. I had hoped to be able to talk over my plan with everybody, but I didn’t have a chance. There were too many last-minute preparations to take care of for the pet show.
On Wednesday night, I had another dream. This time, Hilary turned into a fanged monster and leaped at me when I accused her of being the phantom. I woke up with a start. What a nightmare! But I knew that, whatever else happened, there wasn’t much chance that Hilary was going to turn into a monster right in front of me.
My classes dragged on Thur
sday, but finally school was over and it was time for rehearsal. I walked into the dressing room, and saw right away that Hilary wasn’t there. I panicked. How was I going to wait a few more days to try out my plan? I’d never make it.
But Hilary dashed in right after I’d finished getting dressed. She was out of breath from running up the stairs. “Am I late?” she asked.
“No, but you’d better hurry,” I said. “Mme Noelle just gave us the signal that she’s ready to start.” I almost wished that I had stuck to my original idea. At least the whole thing would be over before rehearsal. But it was too late now. In a moment, Mme Noelle would be taking the roll.
I grabbed my toe shoes and ran to the stage, with Hilary on my heels. Mme Noelle barely looked up as we took our places.
“We have only four rehearsals left before zee performance, mademoiselles,” she said. “I osk for your complete concentration.” She looked me right in the eye as she said that. I gulped. And I nodded.
But unfortunately, my concentration was terrible that day. While we were doing our warm-up exercises at the barre, I lost count and kicked in the wrong direction, almost knocking over Lisa.
“Sorry!” I whispered.
She smiled at me. “That’s okay,” she whispered back. “I’d be nervous, too, if I were playing Princess Aurora.”
Little did she know that my role was the least of my worries. I shook myself and tried to forget about Hilary. If Mme Noelle noticed how distracted I was, she would be furious.
I got through the rest of the rehearsal with no major accidents. As we finished up our work for the day, I began to feel more and more nervous. What if Hilary didn’t fall for my trick? What if she hadn’t brought her special red pen that day? What if …
“You are dismissed!” said Mme Noelle, clapping her hands. “Jessica Romsey, please stay for a moment.”
Oh, no! She was going to tell me how terribly I’d danced that day. Maybe she was going to take the role away from me. After everyone else had gone, I crossed to where she stood, next to the record player.
“Yes, Madame?” I asked.
“Mademoiselle Romsey, please tell me,” she said. “Is everything all right? I am worrying about you.” She was looking deeply into my eyes.
For a moment, just for a moment, I considered telling her everything. I’m not sure what stopped me. I guess I wanted to be able to prove what I suspected before I brought her into it. “I — I’m fine,” I said. “I know my dancing has not been perfect. I’m sorry.”
She smiled at me. “Even Anna Pavlova was not always perfect,” she said.
Anna Pavlova is probably the most famous ballerina of all time. Every dancer wants to be “another Pavlova,” including me. I smiled back at Mme Noelle. Then, suddenly, I realized that I’d better get going if I wanted to catch Hilary in the dressing room.
“May I go now?” I asked Mme Noelle.
She nodded. “But Jessica, if something is bothering you, please speak to me of it.”
“Thank you!” I said. She can be so nice sometimes, even though she is a tough teacher. I guess she just expects a lot of her students. I turned and ran off the stage.
When I reached the hallway, I paused to catch my breath. This was it! I was about to unmask the phantom. Could I do it? “Go for it, Jessi!” I said to myself. Taking a deep breath, I pushed open the door of the dressing room. I looked around. It was empty. I’d blown it.
Then I heard a cough. I spun around and saw Hilary by the mirror.
“Hilary!” I said. “I’m glad you’re here!”
She turned and looked at me curiously. “Why?” she asked.
I tried to sound like I was out of breath from running, which wasn’t hard. My heart was pounding like crazy, just from nervousness. “It’s — it’s Mme Noelle,” I said.
“What?” asked Hilary. “Is something wrong? Is she hurt?”
This was not going in the right direction. “No, no,” I said. “Nothing like that. It’s just that she needs a sign.” I paused. There was something I was forgetting. “And she wants you to make it,” I added, breathlessly. This wasn’t going as smoothly as I’d imagined.
Hilary gave me another funny look. Then she went over to her bag and started to rummage through it. “A sign, huh?” she asked. “Okay, no problem. What should it say?”
I could have kicked myself. I’d forgotten an important part of my script! “The janitor spilled some cleaning stuff on the stairs,” I said. “Mme Noelle is afraid someone will slip on it and hurt themselves before he has a chance to clean it up.”
Hilary waited silently.
“So,” I finished, “I guess it should just say something like ‘Danger! Slippery Steps!’”
“That sounds simple enough,” said Hilary. “I’ll make Mme Noelle the best sign she ever saw.”
I sighed with relief. Then I saw the pen she had pulled out of her bag. It wasn’t red! It was just a regular blue ballpoint. “Don’t forget,” I said. “It has to be highly visible, so everyone can see it.”
Hilary glanced at the pen in her hand and shrugged. Then she threw it back into her bag and rummaged around some more. I almost sighed out loud. She certainly wasn’t making this easy for me!
Finally, she pulled out a red pen and started to write. From where I stood, I couldn’t see what the writing looked like, so I just had to wait patiently. But my heart was racing.
“How does this look?” she asked, holding the sign up for me to see. I walked over and took it from her. One glance told me that the pen she was using was the same one she’d used to write those nasty notes.
“GOTCHA!” I cried.
“What?” she asked, turning white.
“This pen!” I said. “And this writing. You sent me all those notes! And now I’ve caught you.”
“What notes?” asked Hilary, narrowing her eyes. “I never sent you any notes. Just try convincing Mme Noelle that I did. It’ll be your word against mine, and she’ll never believe you. You can’t prove anything.”
“Oh, yes I can,” I said. “For one thing, I’ve kept every note you sent me. Anyone could see that the writing is the same as the writing on that sign.”
“So what?” she asked. “Why would I write you notes?”
“Because you wanted me to get so scared that I’d drop the role of Princess Aurora,” I said. “You thought you’d have a chance at it if you could audition again.”
“I wasn’t the only one who wanted you to drop out,” said Hilary.
“You’re right,” I said. “Katie Beth and Carrie would have liked to get that role, too. But Carrie was absent when I got a note one day, and Katie Beth saved me when you pushed that scenery onto me.”
“Scenery!” said Hilary. “I didn’t do that! That thing fell by accident, I swear, I didn’t want you to get hurt that badly.” Then she put her hand over her mouth. I could tell that she had realized she’d practically confessed to all her other “crimes.”
“Oh, please!” she begged. “Please don’t tell Mme Noelle! I couldn’t stand it if I got kicked out of dance school. And my mother would be furious.”
“That’s why you did it in the first place, isn’t it?” I asked. “Because of your mother.”
Hilary nodded. “It’s so important to her for me to be a good dancer. I work really hard to live up to her expectations, but sometimes I just can’t. You’re a better dancer than me — that’s why you got that role. But she doesn’t understand.”
I looked closely at Hilary. I could tell that she was about to start crying.
“I promise I won’t do anything else to you, Jessi!” she said. “No more notes, no more ‘accidents.’ I’ll leave you alone. I’ll pay you back for those leotards I ruined. Just please, don’t tell Madame!”
I didn’t know what to do. I felt sorry for Hilary because of her mother, but I was still mad at her. I thought about it for a minute while she waited, tears in her eyes.
I was still worried that she’d try some nasty trick on me durin
g rehearsals, or even during a performance. But since I had proof of her “crimes,” she probably wouldn’t. She knew she’d just be in even deeper trouble. And I realized that she had probably already suffered enough by having to deal with her awful mother.
“Okay,” I said. “But don’t forget that I have proof of what you did.” I paused. “You’d better not try anything else, or you know what I’ll do!” I tried to sound as threatening as I could, even though I didn’t really know exactly what I would do to her.
Hilary was incredibly grateful. She even surrendered her calligraphy pen. “You can have this,” she said. “I won’t be needing it any more.” Then she ran out to meet her mother.
I sat down on the dressing room bench, exhausted but happy. I’d caught the phantom! I just hoped I had done the right thing by letting her off. What if she decided to pull some last-minute trick on opening night? She might do it, just for the pleasure of seeing me look like a fool in front of the huge audience that would fill the civic center. I tried to put the thought out of my head as I went out to meet my father. I should have been feeling happy, not worried. After all, the mystery had finally been solved!
Stacey was sitting for Charlotte Johannsen on the day of the pet show, so they arrived at Dawn and Mary Anne’s early on that sunny afternoon, to help set up. Charlotte had brought Carrot with her. The little schnauzer was all spruced up. You could tell right away that he’d had a bath. And he was wearing a brand-new red collar. The leash that Charlotte was walking him on was also brand-new, and she looked pretty proud as she entered the yard.
The rest of us, except Kristy, who hadn’t gotten there yet, were setting up tables for snacks and for the judges to sit at. Charlotte wanted to help, so Stacey tied Carrot to a tree.
“You be a good dog,” said Charlotte. Carrot barked a few times and then curled up and went to sleep while we worked.
We set up a “ring” — a judging area in front of the judges’ table — by making a circle of rocks we’d found in the driveway. Stacey surveyed it when it was done.