Wednesday: 1737: the shrieking of Claudia Kishi's telephone interrupted yet another deep, meaningful silence filled with Sapphic undertones among the teenage girls sprawled out in various places throughout the ant-infested bedroom. That is to say, the silence was vanquished. The lesbian undertones were not.
Claudia put her feelings for Stacey temporarily on hold in order to listen more closely to the ringing of the telephone. "They're calling long-distance!" she shrieked excitedly.
"How can you tell without answering the phone?" Kristy asked as she scratched a bug bite on her left elbow. The other girls had previously mentioned to Claudia that the room had ants, but all this had accomplished was Claudia searching frantically under her bed for Aunt Peaches. Nobody wanted to be the friend who ruined the secret of Claudia's hidden junk food stash by informing Mr. and Mrs. Kishi of the insect problem in their daughter's room (Indeed, Mary Anne had burst into tears at the mere thought of such treachery.), and they had positively balked at the idea of asking Janine, Claudia's genius sister for ant-repelling tips which had allowed her to keep her own private junk food stash hidden for the past decade or so. Therefore, Claudia's guests/coworkers suffered their bug bites in silence.
"You can't hear the difference?!" Claudia asked, bemused. "The ringing sounds just like dolphins shrieking at each other! I can tell just by listening to the ring that the call is coming from somewhere in England!"
The girls listened closely. "It sounds exactly like an American phone call," said Mary Anne. "Maybe your hearing is extra-extra-sensitive, Claud."
"Kind of like Susan," said Kristy, referring to one of their old babysitting charges. "She had super sensitive hearing, too. She could probably hear the dolphins on the phone without picking it up."
"Susan has Autism," Mallory exposited.
There was a poignant silence, long enough for the average tweenaged female reader to read approximately thirty-seven paragraphs, as each girl contemplated their adventures with Susan, occasionally interspersed with interactions with some random Australian kids. Unfortunately, the phone stopped ringing during their silence.
"Darn it! We missed the call!" said Kristy. "Every missed call is missed business!"
Kristy sat and seethed for a few moments, glaring at each BSC member in turn. She glared extra hard at Mallory for no apparent reason. Suddenly, the phone rang again.
"It's the dolphins again!" shrieked Claudia. The rest of the girls screamed as if they had just seen a ghost.
Kristy calmed down first, managing to answer the phone with a businesslike "Baby-sitters Club, President Kristy Thomas speaking. Er, perhaps I should explain. You see, in America, we don't have a King or Queen. Our country is ruled by what is called a president. I'm not the president of a whole country. I just had the great idea to start the Baby Sitters Club, and so…"
"Yes, yes, yes. Now, listen up! I need a babysitter. No, I need an army of babysitters. My husband and I will be out of town for one of his business conferences, and we need somebody to mind our son and nephew. We've tried every babysitter, nanny, and au pair in England, but they all ran away screaming when I asked. No doubt this is because my nephew is such a brat."
"HEY! Trying to watch TV, here!" came a loud boy's voice. "Pipe down, will ya?!" Kristy raised an eyebrow and attempted to give the boy one of her patented Looks over the phone. It didn't work. That must be the nephew that the woman was talking about literally five seconds ago. Watching TV, indeed!
"We used to just leave him with the crazy cat lady down the street," continued the woman (after cooing an "Almost done, popkin," presumably to the loud, television-watching boy), "but she had to go to her sister's funeral. Or maybe her sister's cat's funeral. Or it could be her cat's sister's funeral. Or possibly a wedding. I don't know; I try not to listen to that crazy old bat. Anyway, I found the contact information for the Babysitters Club on the floor of that one apothecary where Romeo got the poison to kill himself when he thought Juliet had died. I guess you all must have been in England at some point. Well, it's time for you to come back again!"
"Hold on just a second, ma'am," said Kristy politely. She put her hand over the mouthpiece of the phone and asked, "Um, guys? When we were England, did we ever visit the apothecary where Romeo purchased the poison that he ended using to kill himself?"
"Hmm… not sure," said Claudia. "What's an apothecary?"
"I don't think that place actually exists," said Stacey. "I mean 'Romeo and Juliet' is a work of fiction. It could just be a place that Shakespeare made up."
"He can't have just made that up!" protested Mallory. "He's a writer, not a liar! William Shakespeare, the greatest barb of all time, wrote a heartrending, tragic, completely true account of his first teenaged love and the dreadful double-suicide that followed!"
Everybody looked at Mallory strangely. "I guess a better question would be, 'what was this woman doing in an apothecary?'" said Kristy. "Could that be why the sister, the sister's cat, or the cat's sister suffered an untimely death? Or possibly got married?"
Now Kristy was the subject of several bemused stares. Mary Anne's widened eyes were slightly wet due to the mention of dead cats. Or she could be crying about the wedding. "You know what… it doesn't matter," said Kristy. "The important thing is, we went to England before. Now, apparently, somebody wants us back."
"Why would they want us back?" asked Dawn, who, like the rest of the girls barring Kristy, had not heard the British half of the phone call and thus had no idea why they received the call. Kristy shushed her and returned her attention to the telephone call.
"I have already attained permission from my nephew's normal babysitter, Mrs. Figg, to put you all up in her house while she is away. It is just down the street from ours. You can take turns sleeping over at our house. Now, the job will be for two weeks, starting next Tuesday, and, quite frankly, we're so desperate to find someone who can handle our nephew that you can name your price."
Kristy's eyes widened. She named the most outrageous price she could think of. "Done," said the woman immediately.
"Wow," Kristy breathed. "How much is that in pounds?"
The woman told her. "Well, that's not as much," said Kristy. "But we'll take it! GIRLS, WE'RE GOING TO ENGLAND!" She screamed the last sentence as the entire room burst into cheers.
"…So, I assume this is for something childcare-related?" asked Dawn once the applause died down.
Before Kristy could answer her, Jessi spoke up for the first time since the meeting began. "You know, there's a lot of Black people in England," she pronounced. "A lot of people don't realize it, because the Queen Mother is White. But they're there."
Everybody nodded solemnly.
As it turned out, international travel during the summer months took more planning than Kristy and the rest of the BSC had anticipated. The parents, fed up with the constant vacations, field trips, and alien abductions (long story) their children experienced every year, had thrown up their hands in frustration and told their daughters that if they wanted to go to England so badly, they can arrange their own transportation across the pond. "That'll work," Claudia had said. "Just get us across the Atlantic Ocean, and we'll be able to swim across the pond."
Airfare was more expensive than the girls thought. "If only the Junk Bucket could fly," Kristy sighed mournfully.
"It will after Janine finishes her summer project," said Claudia.
"What?"
"Janine's taking some science classes at the college over the summer. She decided to do an extra credit project where she builds a flying machine. Rather than making a machine from scratch, she is using Charlie's car and making it airborne."
"Oh, but we don't have all summer!" said Kristy. "We need to be able to get to England by next Tuesday. I know! What if we helped Janine with her flying machine? That way, it'll get done much faster. And, quite frankly, with your assistance, Claudia, it will wind up looking much prettier as well."
"I can't help with Janine's project. Every single knut and bolt she plans to use is marked with an individually-labeled post-it note saying 'Claudia! Do NOT touch!'"
"Hmm... does it say anyone else's names on these post-its?" Kristy asked.
"Nope, just 'Claudia,'" Claudia replied.
"Well, at least the rest of the BSC can still help her out!" said Kristy brightly. "Oh, I know! Why don't we make it a fun neighborhood project and give all the kids in Stoneybrook a fun summer project?"
"I don't think Janine would..." Claudia began.
"Claud, Claud, Claud, Janine just meant she didn't want you touching her supplies. We can still have other people help her, and you can still provide valuable artistic insight as long as you don't touch anything. I'm sure if Janine had other requirements, she would have clearly listed them beforehand so as to avoid confusion! Between you and me... I know she's your sister and all, but that trait would make her a horrible babysitter." Kristy shook her head sadly. "Ah, well, I suppose it's because she's a genius and all! Now let's round up some kids and get to work!"