Dawn and the Surfer Ghost
Contents
Title Page
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Acknowledgment
About the Author
Also Available
Copyright
Just as I signed my name to the letter, my dad called from the kitchen, “Dawn! Your ride is here!”
“Thanks!” I called back. I folded the letter I’d just dashed off, addressed an envelope, stuck on a stamp, grabbed my beach bag, and left my room. I planned to drop the letter in a mailbox on the way to the beach. I headed down the long, tiled hall that leads to the kitchen. My father was standing by the sink, drinking a glass of carrot juice he had just whipped up. “ ‘Bye, Dad,” I said, giving him a hug.
“See you later, Sunshine,” he said, hugging me back. (Sunshine is his baby name for me. Ugh.) “You be careful now, okay?”
“I will,” I said. “Don’t worry.” Just then, I heard a car horn honk outside, and I knew that my friend’s mom was getting a little impatient. “See you!” I called, as I ran out the door.
“Sorry, Mrs. Winslow,” I said when I was settled in the backseat of the car.
“Oh, that’s all right,” she replied. “Actually, Sunny was the one who honked. She can’t wait to get to the beach.”
Sunny, who was sitting in the front seat, turned to face me. She grinned. “Surf’s up, you know!” she exclaimed.
“Cowabunga,” I said, grinning in return. Then I buckled my seat belt, leaned back, and relaxed. It was a beautiful midwinter day in California, the “Golden State,” and I was on my way to the beach. What could be better?
I guess I should stop here and introduce myself. My name is Dawn Schafer, and I’m thirteen years old and in the eighth grade. I have long blonde hair and blue eyes. I guess my life might seem a little confusing to anybody else, but to me it makes sense. Let’s see, how can I explain everything? Maybe I’ll practice something I’ve been learning in English class, and make an outline. Have you ever been asked to do that? You know, with roman numerals and letters and everything? It’s not easy, but it can be a good way to sort out a lot of information. So, here goes:
I. Sharon Porter, my mother, is born in Stoneybrook, Connecticut.
A. Grows up.
B. Has high-school sweetheart, Richard Spier, but does not marry him.
C. Moves to California, and marries Jack Schafer.
D. Has two children, Dawn (that’s me) and Jeff (my younger brother).
II. My parents get a divorce.
A. My mother, Jeff, and I move back to Stoneybrook.
B. My father stays in California.
C. I make good friends and join a special baby-sitting club (the BSC).
D. Jeff is unhappy in Connecticut, and moves back to live with my father.
III. Mary Anne Spier (my new best friend) and I find out that her father (a widower) and my mom were those high-school sweethearts I mentioned before.
A. We set them up and they start dating again.
B. They (surprise!) fall in love.
IV. My mother remarries.
A. My new best friend becomes my sister.
B. We all live happily in our old Connecticut farmhouse.
V. I really, really miss my dad, Jeff, and California.
A. I decide to go back to California for a few months.
B. Here I am!
Phew! Pretty complicated, right? Just be glad I didn’t put in all the other little things, which would have been listed under the As and Bs as 1s, 2s, and 3s. I could even have put in 1as, bs, and cs. But that would have made the outline about ten pages long. Anyway, I think you get the idea.
Being back in California has been totally cool. I love hanging out with my friend Sunny Winslow. She and I have been friends for years, so we have a special kind of bond. And after she heard about the baby-sitting club I belong to in Stoneybrook, she started one here. They welcomed me as a temporary member, which means I’m still able to do one of my favorite things: take care of little kids.
Being in California also means spending more time with my dad and with Jeff, which makes me very happy. Jeff is ten now, and I happen to think that’s a really fun age. I even like Mrs. Bruen, the housekeeper Dad hired when Jeff moved back in with him. She keeps the house spotless and cooks us terrific meals. The only thing about California that I’m not crazy about is Carol Olson. She’s this woman my dad has been seeing for a while, and while I don’t exactly dislike her, I don’t love her, either. Actually, I’d probably like her just fine if she didn’t happen to be my dad’s girlfriend. I mean, she’s young and pretty and drives a little red sportscar, and she likes MTV. She’s cool, in other words. Which is fine for a regular person, but not really so fine for a woman my father might be serious about. Do you know what I mean? Anyway, Jeff and I have learned to get along with Carol and accept that she’s in our lives for now, but that’s as far as I go.
There is actually one other bad thing about California, but I’ve already mentioned it. It’s how much I miss Stoneybrook and the people who live there, especially Mary Anne and my mom. Mary Anne is my best friend in the world, even though I haven’t known her nearly as long as I’ve known Sunny. And my mom? My mom is a wonderful person. She may not be as organized as my dad or as neat as Mrs. Bruen (in fact, she’s a completely dis-organized slob), but she’s funny and smart and very loving and — and I better not think about her any more right now or I might start feeling really sad.
And who wants to be sad when she’s about to hit the beach? I was excited about going surfing that day, and nothing could ruin my mood. Sunny and I started to take surfing lessons not too long ago, when we heard that a big surfing competition was coming up. Practically all the kids at school are planning to enter at least one event, and everybody’s busy preparing for it. I haven’t surfed in a long time, and I was never all that good at it when I did do it, but I thought being involved in the competition would be a nice way to feel that I fit in with my old California friends. As it turned out, this time around I just loved surfing. I wouldn’t have kept it up if I didn’t, since “fitting in” is not as important to me as being happy with myself. Anyway, surfing is great! There’s nothing like the feeling you get when you’re out in the ocean, just you and your board and the waves. I can’t explain it any better than that, but trust me, it’s wonderful.
Sunny has been enjoying herself, too, although I think she may be enjoying the surfer guys more than surfing itself. She loves to hang out on the beach or in the surf shop and chat with all the incredibly cute, tanned boys. Those guys practically live on the beach. Surfing is everything to them, and even a pretty, smart girl like Sunny doesn’t always distract them from watching for the perfect wave. This is frustrating for Sunny, I think. But she has a good time, anyway. And even though she doesn’t pay as much attention as I do during our lessons, she seems to have a natural knack for the sport.
“Have fun, girls,” said Mrs. Winslow. We had arrived at the beach, and Sunny and I had jumped out of the car. “I’ll pick you up right here in three hours,” Sunny’s mom went on. “Be careful, now!”
“We will!” we chorused.
“Thanks for the ride,” I added.
“Come on,” said Sunny, as her mom drove off. “We have to go rent boards before all the good ones are gone.”
“I’m coming,” I rep
lied. But I wasn’t in a rush. First I wanted to drink in the sights and sounds of the beach. I still wasn’t used to the idea that I could come here anytime (anytime I could get a ride, that is; the beach isn’t exactly walking distance from my dad’s house) and enjoy the warm sun, the hot sand, the blue ocean crested with white, and the seagulls that fly overhead, crying just loudly enough to be heard over the surf. I can sit on the beach and look and listen for hours. To me, it’s the most beautiful place in the world. I think beaches kind of get in your blood, and if you grow up near one you never feel quite right when you’re away from it.
Oh, sure, there are beaches in Connecticut. But they’re not the same. The beaches on the West Coast are bigger, the surf is higher, and the sun is brighter. Plus, there’s nothing like a sunset over the Pacific.
“Dawn, come on,” said Sunny, grabbing my arm and practically dragging me toward the surf shop. The little building was crowded with surfers, but we fought our way through them and picked out the boards we wanted to rent. As we were standing in line to pay for them, Sunny leaned over to whisper in my ear. “Don’t look now, but that’s Thrash back there, working on that board.”
I peeked into the back of the shop where a guy was working on a surfboard set across two sawhorses. I couldn’t get a good look at him, but I could tell he was a little older than most of the high-school kids who usually hang out at the shop. “Who’s Thrash?” I whispered back.
“Only the hottest surfer around,” said Sunny. “He’s incredible. I’ve seen him do some really radical stuff out there.” She nodded toward the waves.
“Well, maybe if we practice hard, we’ll be that good someday, too,” I said. We had reached the front of the line, and we paid for our rentals. “Ready for our lesson?” I asked Sunny. We were supposed to meet Buck, our instructor, on the beach, so we grabbed our boards and ran for it.
The waves were perfect that day, and I surfed better than I ever had before. By the time I returned home I felt exhausted, but it was a good kind of tired. I had just enough energy to help Jeff with his math homework. Then, after a dinner of nachos with guacamole (I made it, since Mrs. Bruen doesn’t work on Saturdays), I settled in on the living room couch and dialed my friend Stacey McGill’s number. I knew from Mary Anne’s letter that my friends in the BSC would be at her house for a sleepover, and I was dying to hear their voices.
Stacey answered, and I talked to her for a few minutes. Then I talked to Mary Anne and to my other friends: Kristy Thomas, Claudia Kishi, Jessi Ramsey, and Shannon Kilbourne. The only member of the BSC I didn’t talk to was Mallory Pike, because she’s getting over mono and she isn’t allowed out for sleepovers. They told me the latest Stoneybrook news, and I told them about surfing. It was great to hear their voices. I miss them so much, and I know they miss me, too. Like I said, life would be perfect if only I could live in two places at once. But the next best thing is to feel at home in both places, and to know that the friends I have made are friends forever.
In case you don’t know, WBS stands for Write Back Soon. I didn’t really have to include that, since I get letters all the time from Mary Anne and the rest of my friends in the BSC. But those letters mean a lot to me, and I want to keep them coming. I sealed up the envelope, addressed it, and stuck a few funny stickers on the back. Then I headed over to Sunny’s house for a meeting of the We ♥ Kids Club, which is the baby-sitting club Sunny started.
Sunny lives just down the street from my dad’s house, so it didn’t take long to walk there. When I arrived, the other members of the club were already there. Sunny had made a snack for the meeting, and everybody was digging in.
I sat down next to Maggie Blume, one of the club members. “Hi, Dawn,” she said, passing me a bag of organic corn chips. “Try the spinach dip — it’s great.”
“It’s even better with the vegetables,” said Jill Henderson, holding up a piece of raw broccoli dripping with green and white dip.
Sunny passed me the platter of vegetables. “Help yourself,” she said.
I took a piece of carrot and dunked it. This kind of snack is one of the reasons I like the We ♥ Kids Club. My friends and I like healthy, nutritious food — no Ring Dings for us! During BSC meetings, I always felt a little out of it when I turned down Claudia’s offerings of junk food, but here I fit right in.
Don’t get me wrong. It’s not as if everybody in California is a health-food nut. Plenty of people here think that big, greasy tacos or hamburgers with fries are perfect foods. But I was brought up on mostly healthy, organic food (so were my friends here), and it just tastes better to me.
Anyway, as I mentioned, Sunny started the We ♥ Kids Club after I told her about the BSC. The California club is modeled after the Connecticut club. They’re not identical, though — in fact, they’re not even close. The BSC is more like a business than a club. It has officers, for one thing. Kristy Thomas, the president, is the one who came up with the idea for it. She thought it would be great if parents could reach a bunch of sitters with one phone call, and she was right. The club meets three days a week: Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays from five-thirty until six. That’s when parents can call to line up sitters. The BSC has seven members — most of the time, that is. Lately the club has been changing a little.
Kristy is a real go-getter. She’s the one who thinks up most of the ideas for the club. For example, the club record book, in which we keep track of our appointments. Also, the club note-book, in which we write up our baby-sitting experiences so the other club members can read them and stay informed about our clients. Kristy also invented Kid-Kits, which are boxes full of games, toys, and other things that kids love. They’re great for rainy-day sitting jobs.
Kristy has brown hair and eyes, and she loves sports. She has a big family: her mom, two older brothers and one younger one, a stepfather, a stepbrother, a stepsister, an adopted baby sister, and a grandmother who lives with the family. Plus a dog, a cat, and two goldfish!
The vice-president of the BSC is Claudia Kishi. The club meets in her room and uses her private phone line. Claudia is Japanese-American, and she’s drop-dead gorgeous, with long black hair and almond-shaped eyes. As I’ve told you, she loves junk food. She also loves Nancy Drew mysteries, shopping, boys, and art. Especially art. Claudia’s a very talented artist, and her creativity shows in the wild way she dresses. Unlike her older sister, who is a certified genius, Claudia is not such a great student. Her parents wish she would “apply herself,” but they are very understanding and supportive about her love for art.
My best friend (and sister!) Mary Anne is the secretary of the BSC. She keeps track of all our scheduling, and she does a great job. Mary Anne is shy, quiet, and sensitive. She has a boyfriend, and a kitten named Tigger. Her mom died when Mary Anne was a little girl, and her father (who is now my stepfather) was a very strict parent until recently. Fortunately, he’s loosened up a lot, and now Mary Anne is treated more like a teenager and less like a little girl. Mary Anne is not only my best friend, but Kristy’s, too. She and Kristy look a little alike, since Mary Anne also has brown eyes and hair, and is on the short side. But Mary Anne cut her hair in a cool new style recently, and now she looks trendier than Kristy.
The treasurer of the BSC is Stacey McGill. She’s a whiz at math, so keeping track of our money is easy for her. She collects dues every Monday, which we use for things like paying Claudia’s phone bill and buying supplies for our Kid-Kits. Stacey grew up in New York City, and she’s pretty sophisticated. She has fluffy blonde hair which she perms, and she dresses very stylishly. Stacey’s parents got divorced not too long ago, and her dad still lives in New York. Fortunately for the BSC, Stacey chose to live in Stoneybrook with her mom. Stacey is a diabetic, which means that her body doesn’t process sugar correctly. She really has to watch what she eats; in fact, she is the only other member of the BSC who turns down Claudia’s junk food!
Jessi Ramsey and Mallory Pike aren’t officers; they’re junior members of the BSC. Unlike the rest o
f the members, who are thirteen and in the eighth grade, Jessi and Mal are eleven and in the sixth grade. They aren’t allowed to sit alone at night, so they take a lot of afternoon jobs. Jessi is African-American, and she has a little sister and a baby brother. Her great-aunt lives with the family to help out with the kids, since both of Jessi’s parents work. Jessi is a very talented ballet student, and she has the long legs of a ballerina. Mallory, who isn’t attending BSC meetings these days because of her mono, comes from a huge family of eight kids! She’s the oldest, so she’s used to baby-sitting. Mal has curly red hair, glasses, and braces. She’s in an awkward phase right now, but I think she’s going to be really pretty in a few years.
The BSC also has an associate member who doesn’t necessarily come to meetings, but is available if we need an extra sitter. His name is Logan Bruno, and he is Mary Anne’s boyfriend. He’s from Kentucky, and he has the most luscious Southern accent.
My BSC job, when I’m in Connecticut, is to be the alternate officer. That means I can fill in for anyone who’s absent. The BSC has temporarily replaced me with Shannon Kilbourne, a girl from the neighborhood Kristy moved to when her mother remarried. Shannon is usually an associate member, but now that I’m away, she’s more like a full-time member.
Anyway, as I said, the We ♥ Kids Club is very different from the BSC, and the snacks aren’t the only example of this. The We ♥ Kids Club has no officers, no club notebook, and no regular meetings. The members just get together whenever they feel like it. Clients can call anytime, and whoever wants a job takes it. It seems to work out fine, even though it’s much less organized than the BSC. The We ♥ Kids Club has one thing that the BSC doesn’t have: a cookbook full of healthy recipes. The club members also have recipe files that they update. The kids they sit for love to spend time in the kitchen, cooking up Granola Snack Squares, Veggi Bursts, and other fun, nutritious treats.
Sunny is the only member of the club I know well. She and I have always gotten along like sisters, maybe because we’ve spent so much time together. Sunny’s mom is like a second mother to me. Mrs. Winslow is really neat; she’s a potter, and makes amazing things out of clay. She and her husband used to be hippies, I think. Sunny’s real name is Sunshine Daydream, if you can believe that! (It’s just a coincidence that my dad calls me Sunshine, but Sunny and I always thought that made us soul sisters.) Sunny has blonde hair, but she’s not a stereotypical Californian, and none of the other members are, either. Sunny’s hair is strawberry-blonde, with lots of red highlights, and she has freckles across her upturned nose. She always seems to be in a good mood, and she loves to flirt. One thing that Sunny and I have in common is that we love ghost stories. She has a whole bunch of great books, and we like to trade back and forth. And nobody can beat Sunny for telling a scary story when the lights are out during a sleepover.