Chapter 2

You have surely already guessed who I am: Mary Anne Spier, the secretary of the BSC. Our club is the most reliable, definitely the best (and well, only) babysitting group in Stoneybrook.

Every now and then some people who have heard of our success try to find a babysitting club of their own. It just never seems to work.

Last October, for example, a 15-year-old-girl called Julia Simmons gathered a bunch of her friends and started to hand out leaflets on "The Kid Keepers". I saw one of their ads, which Claudia brought to a Monday meeting, and it was pretty stylish (but not as stylish as ours are, of course). According to it those girls would guarantee you "a qualified, both babysitting and first -aid course completed person at least in one hours notice".

They never managed to start their activity though. On next Wednesday Julia vanished without a trace, and no one has seen her ever since. (I remember it was Wednesday because on that day Kristy was 4 minutes late from the BSC meeting, and what is also historically noteworthy, she was cheery the whole time.) Her poor friends were too upset, or too slothful, as Kristy would say, to start the club by themselves.

Whenever someone mentions Julia Kristy begins to laugh gruesomely and says:" She probably committed suicide. I wonder if anyone has looked for her body from the old warehouse which is on the playground next to Stoneybrook kindergarten?"

In my opinion Kristy has a very strange sense of humour. Anyone would never occur to go even near that warehouse, especially nowadays when it stinks really awful. I think the wood is rotting or something.

But look at me, here I'm just babbling on and on about Kristy when I should be talking about me. Well, what could I say? By nature I'm quite shy and sensitive, somewhat like a Jane Austen character, perhaps Fanny Price or…

Someone poked me on the side. I turned and saw Claudia. "Did you say something to me?" she whispered.

"No", I responded in a low voice. "What makes you think that?"

"Well", she said. "For the last ten minutes you have been mumbling about something I haven't been able to hear, but then just a second ago I clearly heard you mentioning "fancy prices", and I just thought you were gonna tell me about some new clothing store. But obviously you weren't. Never mind."

She looked disappointed and I flushed. I hadn't realized I was thinking out loud.

Don't worry now, both my and Claudia's vocal cords are fine. We were whispering because we were in a classroom and a mother tongue lesson was in progress. We had a substitute teacher, Miss Hill. Our real English teacher, Mr Johnson, was temporarily dismissed because of "inappropriate and obscene behaviour in front of minors". I have no idea what he had done; Stacey said it was even in the local newspaper, but my father didn't let me read it.

Strange people freak me out. Not when it's question about new clients or children, but otherwise. Miss Hill was no exception. Even the shortest eye contact with her made me flush.

Soon after Claudia had awakened me the worst possible thing happened: Miss Hill told me to say what I thought about the first scene of Hamlet. It wasn't Shakespeare's Hamlet but a story including a lost hyena cub, orphan condors and a very, very angry polecat, and which had actually made me weep myself to sleep the night before.

I flushed once again and took a deep breath. "In my opinion the characters are realistic, although I can't identify with any of them. The plot is profound and tragic. I think that the lost hyena reflects a human being confused by complexity of this world", I said quickly.

Miss Hill was still looking at me and waiting. It was obvious she hadn't heard a word I had said. Would I have to repeat it all? I panicked and totally forgot every single thought that was in my mind.

I gasped for a while and then remembered the yoga breathing exercises Dawn, my stepsister, had taught me to do in stressful situations. So I stretched my arms, closed my eyes and started to breathe slowly while repeating the mantra: "whee-loo, whee-loo".

When I finally felt relaxed enough I opened my eyes and saw everyone in the classroom staring at me like a lunatic. Oh gosh, I had managed to embarrass myself once again! I hadn't seen that coming!

"Are you OK?" Miss Hill asked me. I nodded. "Good. Could you then please answer my question?" she said nervously, clearly worrying what I might do next.

"I liked Hamlet but the chosen piece made me sad", I muttered.

Miss Hill looked confused. "I beg your pardon?" she said. "You like ham, but frozen peas make you mad?"

Now that revealed that she was no rock scientist. Why on earth would I answer something like that? I have no idea what she had been doing before she was hired in Stoneybrook middle school, but it had hardly had anything to do with teaching pre-teens. Actually, the way she acted earlier had made me suspect that she was under some kind of a drug. Unless it is normal that a grown woman drools all over her shirt and tells the pupils to call her Captain Tortilla.

"No, that's not what I said!" I yelled desperately, not being able to see the funny side of the situation. I was ashamed and a little scared too. I buried my face in my hands, tears pouring from my eyes.

Miss Hill stood there a moment staring at me. "You better go meet the psychologist, dear", she said then. "It's not healthy to be that emotional. Go right away. There's something wrong with you." That said a woman who had less than five minutes ago cut up all the chalks because "they were planning a revolution."

However, I didn't want to contradict so I jammed my books into my school bag and left. Vow, this wasn't my lucky day. My only comfort was that I would be meeting Logan in the evening.