Yes, I'm aware that it's been nearly a month

Yes, I'm aware that it's been nearly a month. ::cringes:: The reason it's taken so long is quite basic: my favorite authors haven't been writing! WWWWWHHHHHHHAAAAAAA!!! If you look closely, you'll see that the fic World Wizardry, in the Young Wizards section, was last updated on Valentines Day. That's a long time ago.

Yo, all you critics: Will you please be more specific? Mostly the person who said that my characters 'seem a little out of place.' I fear that I have but one reply to this: (other than ???!!!, that is.) Rephrase for precision, then, and only then, can I try to fix whatever the problem is.

And to the other people: I've tried my best to fix the errors you pointed out, but keep in mind that I am not Ann M. Martin, I'm only a humble fanfiction writer. Understood? All right. ____________________________________________________

I was petrified. The shop? They had gone to the store?! Okay, so it's hardly likely. They couldn't drive, the closest store had to be several miles away… But when you've had the kind of day I was having, you'll believe anything. Including that three boys under the age of ten had walked, all alone, in the dark, about three miles, bought a box of ice cream, and gotten back unescorted by a cop. And all in the space of five minutes. Crazy.

"I mean, the shed. We call the shed the shop 'cause we store an awful lot of food there. You know, for earthquakes and that kind of thing. Natural disasters." Kaye looked alarmed at my expression. But the explanation came as though she'd given it many, many times.

I collapsed into a chair. "Oh, my gosh. Oh, my heck. Your brothers… No wonder your mom was in such a hurry to leave." This was spoken in haste, and I didn't realize how rude it sounded until the damage was done. But Kaye wasn't shocked by my none-so-delicate way of putting things.

"Yeah. I know how you feel. Sometimes, I think the reason she won't get a cell phone is so baby-sitters can't call and tell her about their dilemma."

"Where are the rest of the kids? If they're outside or something…" I jumped at this oversight on my part. No parent, regardless of the nature of their children, likes to come home to dead kids.

"Again." Kaye pointed out, but she followed. "Celeste's probably down in her room eating the ice cream, and I'll wager that the boys are pounding at her door," was Kaye's wise prediction.

"Let us in! We want some!"

"I'll break down the door!"

Yeah. Sure. But when a bowl of ice cream's on the line, who knows? It was plain to see that these kids would stop at nothing in order to get their greedy hands on the ice cream.

That was when something inside me snapped; there I was, Stacey McGill, member of the Baby-sitter's club, letting my charges come dang near killing each other. What was wrong with me? I wasn't sure; the only thing I was certain of was that the past is in the past, and all we can change is the future.

(A/N Please excuse this lame sentiment.)

"Celeste!" I banged on the door. "You have one-half minute to have that ice cream back in the freezer. I mean it! Boys…" I grabbed their arms, "Go into that room. The really big one. Run around, play ball, whatever. Just go!"

They resisted me for a moment. "She has the iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiicccccccccccccccceeeeeeeee crrrrrrrrrrreeeeeeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaaammmmmmmmmmm!!!!!" Joshua wailed.

"I know." I said grimly. "She's not gonna have it for much longer. Get."

They got, not without many backward glances, as though they expected me to eat the ice cream in their absence.

"Celeste! Fifteen more seconds!" Kaye sang out. She was enjoying this.

Celeste came out, brushing past us as though we were invisible.

I managed to notice that the ice cream hadn't been opened. That was the best thing I'd seen the whole time I'd been at the job.

I glanced at Kaye. "Where's the baby?"

"Um…" Kaye shrugged. "I haven't seen her for a while."

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Okey-dokey. That's it for this chapter. If you reviewed, I hope you know that you have been making me as happy as anyone ever has. Even all that darn constructive criticism can be helpful. I'm going to learn why most authors ask for it someday… I swear I will…

Rose-Bud