“Yes, sir,” they answered in even tinier voices.
“I could also come in here next week,” he continued, “and bulldoze this lot and build a house on it.”
The more they listened to Mr. Cruickshank, the more dismayed Dawn and Sunny felt. All of their hard work could be wiped out in a heartbeat.
“However.” Mr. Cruickshank removed his sunglasses for the first time, revealing not the steely blue eyes they would have expected, but brown, almost warm, eyes. “At the moment I have no plans for this lot. So if you and your friends wish to continue to work on this garden …”
Dawn and Sunny held their breath.
“You have my permission.”
After Mr. Cruickshank left, Dawn and Sunny realized they needed to tell the kids the truth. They gathered them together and Dawn explained the letter-writing process, ending with the conversation they had just had with Mr. Cruickshank.
Some of the kids were disappointed, but Stephie raised her hand. “I don’t care if we only have our secret garden for one week. I’ve loved working on it.”
“I’m not quitting,” Erick DeWitt declared. “I want to see my flowers bloom.”
After a little more discussion, they took a vote, and every kid, mom, and dad present decided to continue with the project.
Dawn closed her letter sounding slightly let down by the adventure.
But I was thrilled. Dawn’s letter had given me a terrific idea.
Barbara. I had to call Barbara.
If she liked my idea, then I’d go ahead with it. I called her the second I finished Dawn’s letter. She agreed to meet me before school the next morning. She also agreed to bring Josh Freeman with her.
My talks with Dr. Reese had helped me. I felt much more energetic and positive about the future. I was even excited, because I had finally thought of something I could do for my friend Amelia.
The next morning, I arrived at our meeting place early. I’d forgotten that it was still pretty cold outside. Just when my nose was starting to turn numb, Barbara and Josh arrived.
“Let’s go inside,” I said, my teeth chattering, “where it’s warm.”
When we got inside I asked, “What would you think of planting a garden at SMS in Amelia’s memory?”
“I couldn’t think of a more perfect memorial,” Barbara said. “You know, The Secret Garden was Amelia’s favorite movie.”
“And she loved to garden,” Josh added. He seemed genuinely happy, even though I could tell it was still difficult for him to talk about his sister. “Mom and Amelia planted a huge garden last year. One whole section was filled with flowers.”
“Maybe we could even put up a plaque,” I said, remembering Sharon’s idea.
Barbara nodded eagerly. “That would be wonderful,” she said.
“We could plant it near the front entrance of the school,” I continued. “That way students who sit under the elm tree could sit in Amelia’s garden.”
“That would be the perfect spot,” Barbara said. “What else could we put there besides flowers and a plaque?”
“A bench,” Josh suggested.
Barbara and I looked at each other. “Perfect.”
I felt tears starting to form in my eyes and took a deep breath, reminding myself that it was okay to grieve. I glanced at Josh and Barbara and saw they were both looking vulnerable, too.
The bell rang, snapping us back to the present.
“School,” I said, making a face. “I forgot all about it.”
Josh wiped at his eyes and smiled. “Me, too.”
“Why don’t I talk to Mr. Seitz this morning?” I suggested as we headed toward the main hall. “He can let us know right away if this is even possible. Then I’ll talk to you at lunchtime.”
“I have a different lunchtime than you guys,” Josh reminded me.
“Mary Anne can tell me the news,” Barbara said. “And I’ll pass it on to you, Josh.”
“Cool.” Josh gave Barbara a thumbs-up. I could tell Josh was excited about my idea, and that made me happy.
Mr. Seitz was all for the garden. “When the chips are down, you kids really come up with some great ideas.” He shook his head in admiration. “I can’t think of a nicer gift to give the Freeman family.”
Mr. Seitz said he would check into using the area near the elm tree. “But I should warn you, there are a lot of people who have to sign off on this before it can happen — Mr. Taylor, our superintendent, the school board, and probably even our parent/teacher group.”
For the next few weeks, Josh, Barbara, and I were on pins and needles. All of the school officials liked the idea but they couldn’t agree on the location. The biology teacher pointed out that a garden wouldn’t be much of a garden under the shade of the huge elm tree, so we began to search for other spots on the school grounds.
Barbara liked the idea of a garden outside the cafeteria window, but that would have meant removing some asphalt from one of the basketball courts.
The teachers, students, and even parents submitted ideas for a location, but still no decision could be made.
Finally, one evening, I got a phone call from Mr. Seitz.
“We found the spot,” he said excitedly.
“That’s great!” I shouted into the phone.
“I’ve just lost all hearing in my left ear,” Mr. Seitz said with a laugh.
“Where is it?” I asked, after apologizing for shouting.
“It’s not under the elm or outside the cafeteria,” Mr. Seitz said. “But frankly, I think this spot is even better. What do you think of the courtyard?”
“The courtyard!” I gasped. “That would be wonderful.”
The courtyard is a sunny open spot in the middle of SMS. It’s a place where students can meet to chat. It’s also a nice place just to sit and think. It was perfect, and I wondered why we hadn’t thought of it before.
Because it was still winter, we couldn’t start the planting yet. But we could begin fundraising for supplies. I remembered Dawn’s efforts and suggested we not buy any gardening tools, but ask kids to bring them from home. (Clearly labeled, of course.)
We jumped ahead with plans for a dedication.
“Once the site has officially been approved by SMS,” Mr. Seitz suggested, “then I think we should hold a public groundbreaking ceremony. Let’s shoot for two weeks from today.”
Goosebumps had appeared on my arms. I hung up the phone and shouted into the kitchen where Dad and Sharon were having dessert, “It’s going to happen. The garden is actually going to happen.”
Then I dialed Barbara and squealed, “We’ve got the land! Amelia’s going to have her garden.”
Barbara answered me by exclaiming, “I’ve found a donor for the bench!”
I couldn’t help myself. I shouted, “All right!”
After we’d finished our call, I collapsed on the living room rug. At long last, everything was falling into place.
“Sun?”
I blinked my eyes at the unfamiliar glare. I wasn’t dreaming. It actually was sunlight streaming through my window.
“Yes!”
It was almost as if winter had ended and spring had arrived. I leaped out of bed, and almost clicked my heels as I hurried to my closet.
Today was a very big day. Even though it was still winter, I decided to wear something light and springlike. After all, this memorial service wasn’t a funeral. It was a celebration of Amelia. Pure and simple.
I think Claud and Stacey had been hit with the same feeling, because when I spotted them on the corner, standing in the yellow morning sun, they looked like an advertisement for spring wear from some very trendy boutique.
“I have sensational news!” Claud cried as I ran to join them.
“Let me guess,” I said. “You won the lottery and you are splitting it with the BSC.”
“Better news than that.” Claudia was beaming. “Peaches is pregnant.”
“What? Claud, that’s wonderful!” I threw my arms around her in a big
hug.
Peaches is Claudia’s favorite aunt. She and her husband have been trying for years to have a baby. She did get pregnant once, which is why they moved to Stoneybrook, but then she had a miscarriage. It was a very sad time for Peaches and the Kishi family.
“When did you hear?” I asked.
“Last night,” Claud replied. “She and Russ wanted to wait awhile before telling anyone. She’s nearly six months pregnant and the doctor says the baby is in perfect health.”
“Oh, Claud,” I said, “that is such great news.”
I don’t know what it was — the warm sunlight, or just the feeling that spring had finally arrived — but Claud, Stacey, and I did something we hadn’t done in ages.
We looped arms and did the “We’re off to see the Wizard!” skip all the way to school.
The service was scheduled for the end of the school day. In fact, Mr. Kingbridge had agreed to release the students one hour early.
I spent most of the day out of class. There was so much to do. Because there wasn’t enough room for everyone in the courtyard, the microphone and podium were to be set up on the front steps of the school. A beautiful flower garland had to be hung across the school entrance. Donor forms needed to be strategically placed in boxes around the school grounds.
Judging from the turnout at the funeral, we had figured we’d better prepare for hundreds and hundreds of people.
We were right.
About a half an hour before the ceremony was to start, cars started arriving. The parking lot filled up in seconds, and soon every space on the street bordering the school was taken.
Five minutes before the service began, the Freemans, our guests of honor, took their places in the chairs surrounding the podium. Mrs. Freeman was wearing the pink rose corsage we’d given her, and she was smiling.
During the entire week before the ceremony Barbara and I had gone back and forth about who should make the speech dedicating the ground.
“You should do it,” Barbara had insisted. “After all, it was your idea.”
“No way.” Just thinking about making a speech in front of hundreds of people made my stomach churn and my head feel woozy. “You should do it. You were Amelia’s best friend.”
Finally we reached a compromise.
“I’ll stand in the front row by the podium,” I said. That way Logan, Kristy, and the rest of my friends from the Baby-sitters Club could stand with me.
The dedication ceremony began. First our principal, Mr. Taylor, welcomed the guests to Stoneybrook Middle School. The PA system broadcast the speeches across the school-grounds where hundreds of students stood listening.
Mr. Seitz spoke next, introducing the man who was responsible for giving the final okay on the garden, our superintendent of schools.
The superintendent’s speech was brief. “We’re proud to be able to support this very worthy project. I’ve known the Freemans since they first moved to Stoneybrook and I felt their pain when they lost Amelia. Now, thanks to you students, Amelia’s memory can live on.”
When Barbara took the podium, she brought an eight-by-ten photo with her. “This is my best friend Amelia and her rabbit, Nibs,” Barbara began.
Barbara talked about how Amelia had loved SMS, and how much the memorial garden would have meant to her. She thanked the Berkhoff family for the donation of the bench, and talked about the plaque.
“Next week the bench with Amelia’s plaque will be delivered and installed on the garden site. And in May we will begin landscaping and planting,” Barbara said.
Applause filled the air.
“And now, Josh Freeman would like to say a few words.”
I had been holding up pretty well during most of the ceremony, but the sight of Josh, looking so earnest and young, brought me to tears.
Mr. and Mrs. Freeman stood on either side of their son as he made his short speech.
“My family would like to thank the school board, Stoneybrook Middle School, and the Berkhoffs for their generous donations. And we would like to express our special love and thanks to Mary Anne Spier for thinking of this idea in the first place.”
There was more applause. Josh smiled at me and, even though my face was burning, I managed to smile back.
“And Barbara Hirsch, for helping to make it happen.”
Barbara, who had taken her seat behind the podium, waved to Josh and the crowd.
“In closing I would like to thank someone who can’t be here to accept your applause,” Josh said. “Someone who was always willing to listen when I needed to talk. Someone who made sure I was included in her friends’ games. Someone who was never ashamed to tell me she loved me.”
I clutched Logan’s hand so hard, my nails dug into his skin.
“I’d like to thank my sister.” Josh turned to his parents, who were smiling proudly through their tears. “We love you, Amelia. And we will always miss you.”
I cried. I think everyone did.
After the ceremony ended, Logan walked me home. I was finally at peace. Dr. Reese would have said that I had reached closure.
I was planning to see Dr. Reese one more time, mostly to let her know about our garden, and to thank her for helping me sort things out.
To make the day perfect, a postcard from Dawn was waiting for me when I arrived home.
A Note to Readers
If you are interested in learning more about Students Against Destructive Decisions, formerly Students Against Driving Drunk, please visit www.SADD.org.
* * *
Dear Reader:
Every year I receive 15,000 letters from readers of the Baby-sitters Club books. Over the years I have received many letters requesting a story dealing with the death of a classmate. The letters were from kids who had experienced this themselves and thought that reading about the subject might make them and others feel better. I had also received letters about the problem of drunk driving. And so this was the beginning of Mary Anne and the Memory Garden.
Some kids told me that they wanted to find a meaningful way to remember the person they had lost, but didn’t know what to do. This is the problem Mary Anne experiences in the book. Several years ago, when friends of mine died tragically, people close to them got together and decided to remember them with a project that eventually became the Lisa Novak Libraries. People throughout the country donate new books to be sorted into libraries for children. A memorial doesn’t have to be quite that big; it can be as simple as a scrapbook, or a garden like Mary Anne’s. People may leave, but memories live on forever.
* * *
The author gratefully acknowledges
Jahnna Beecham
and
Malcolm Hillgartner
for their help in
preparing this manuscript.
About the Author
ANN MATTHEWS MARTIN was born on August 12, 1955. She grew up in Princeton, New Jersey, with her parents and her younger sister, Jane.
There are currently over 176 million copies of The Baby-sitters Club in print. (If you stacked all of these books up, the pile would be 21,245 miles high.) In addition to The Baby-sitters Club, Ann is the author of two other series, Main Street and Family Tree. Her novels include Belle Teal, A Corner of the Universe (a Newbery Honor book), Here Today, A Dog’s Life, On Christmas Eve, Everything for a Dog, Ten Rules for Living with My Sister, and Ten Good and Bad Things About My Life (So Far). She is also the coauthor, with Laura Godwin, of the Doll People series.
Ann lives in upstate New York with her dog and her cats.
Copyright © 1996 by Ann M. Martin
Cover art by Hodges Soileau
All rights reserved. Published by Scholastic Inc. SCHOLASTIC, THE BABY-SITTERS CLUB, and associated logos are trademarks and/or registered trademarks of Scholastic Inc.
The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyrigh
t Conventions. No part of this publication may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher. For information regarding permission, write to Scholastic Inc., Attention: Permissions Department, 557 Broadway, New York, NY 10012.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
First edition, January 1996
e-ISBN 978-0-545-79210-3
Ann M. Martin, Mary Anne and the Memory Garden
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