Chapter 6

I woke up squeaking. I switched on my bedside lamp and sat up. The time was 02:14 am by my clock radio.

I had had such a horrible nightmare. In my dream I was babysitting Jamie and Lucy Newton. While Jamie had ran around a chain saw in his hand smashing furniture, Lucy had turned into a little pink rabbit which I had killed and cooked for dinner. Then their mother had come home and got furious because I had forgotten to water her plants.

Mrs. Newton's plants in my nightmare were similar to those plants Dawn raises in her old Stoneybrook room. I don't know what they are; when Dawn talks about them she calls them "cash clouds" or, if someone else is listening, spinach. She has empowered me to water them. I had to promise not to ever mention them or let anyone into her room. I just don't see why; being a good gardener is nothing to be ashamed of.

I wanted that bad dream out of my mind so I opened the club notebook. It was a brand new, as it often is, because Mallory's notes after each job are from 20 to 30 pages. She likes to describe every single detail about everything she has seen, heard, said, thought or felt, even when she has been babysitting her own siblings. Reading it can be quite embarrassing.

The latest writer had luckily been Stacey instead of Mallory. Or instead of Claudia, for that matter. I can never understand even the half of what she has tried to write.

Tuesday.

Oh boys. Oh boys oh boys oh boys. I was babysitting that horrible brat again. You know whom I'm talking about! There's only one kid who behaves like she had run out from a zoo. And her father too is a raving mad! Kristy, I feel sorry for you, I don't get how you can live with people like that. But your brother Sam is an exception.. he's so fine. I think I'm in love! 3

So Stacey had been babysitting at Kristy's house. Kristy's family members are her mother, stepfather Watson Brewer, her brothers Charlie, Sam and David Michael and Watson's children Karen, 6, and Andrew, 5. They all live in a mansion because Watson is a millionaire.

I don't know what Watson does exactly that makes him so rich, but I assume it has something to do with trading. I was once visiting Kristy and overheard a part of his cell phone conversation. He said something like "Polly gets back home if her mom and dad pay enough. Let's hope they do it in time. Remember to feed her, I want no unexpected changes." Perhaps he owns a very successful pet store or something.

On that Tuesday evening Stacey was supposed to baby-sit only Karen and Andrew, because 7-year-old David Michael was not at home. Usually Kristy would've baby-sat them, but on that day she had an extra football practice.

People at school sometimes call Kristy names because she's so masculine. Well alright, maybe her body synthesizes more testosterone than an average girl's body does, but anyhow it's totally unfair. And it doesn't mean that she's a dyke if she happens to find Martha Stewart attractive.

Stacey arrived and Watson opened the door for her.

"Hello Stacey. Karen is in the living room and Andrew is probably in the playroom. The cleaning lady has just tidyed up the whole house so don't let them make a big mess. I should be back in a couple of hours", he informed and left. He was obviously in a hurry. It isn't a surprise because Stacey tends to be late.

Stacey went to the living room where Karen was waiting for her with a glass.

"I thought you might be thirsty", she said. "So I fetched you some orange juice."

"That was very nice of you. Thank you, Karen." Stacey took a sip and then immediately spat the juice back to her glass.

"Karen, are you sure this juice isn't out-of-date?" she asked. "Cause it tastes really bad."

"Don't worry, it isn't", Karen answered. "The weird taste comes from laundry detergent."

"It comes from what?" Stacey cried. "Karen Brewer, why did you put detergent into my drink?"

"It's a potion, not a drink", Karen pointed out. "Its meaning was to reveal if you are a witch or not. If you had drank it without noticing any difference, I would have known that you are one." She smiled innocently. "We have to be careful these days, you know."

Stacey clenched her teeth. She remembered perfectly well the BSC's rule number 75, section 23, subsection 48: never wreck a child's imagination. That means in practice that if a child for example believes in Santa, we are not allowed to correct her. So Stacey concealed her anger and smiled back at Karen.

"You are right, it was a wise thing to do", she said sweetly. "Just don't do it again, OK?"

"I promise", Karen swore. "Hey, shall we play that my dolls have a tea party? Wouldn't that be fun?"

"Well, we better ask Andrew's opinion first", Stacey responded. "He might want to play something else." She wasn't very keen on playing with Karen anything that might include drinking or eating. "Where is he?"

"Uurh, he's busy at the moment, very busy", Karen said hastily. "He told me he doesn't want anyone to disturb him."

"Alright then", Stacey gave up. "Let's play the tea party."

When they had played an hour or so, and Stacey had countless times systematically refused to taste Karen's different "tea sorts", strange coloured and smelly liquids she kept bringing from the kitchen and from the toilet, Kristy's older brother Sam came home. He's 15 and goes to Stoneybrook High School. Stacey has a little crush on him, and I think Sam likes Stacey too.

"Hello baby", Sam said and sat on the couch. "Wazap?"

"Stop calling me a baby, I'm already six years old!" Karen snapped and left the room.

Stacey waved her hair and tittered. "Not much, at least until you came", she replied.

"Shouldn't you start to clean up soon?" Sam asked and glanced at the mess Karen had made. "You could load two dishwashers with all those cups."

"Oh, I would definitely do that, but you see, I can't", Stacey answered. "I'm a diabetic."

That was true. Stacey has diabetes, which means she must watch what she eats. Normally it shouldn't have an effect on anything else a diabetic does, but Stacey is a special case. She has told us that her blood sugar level lowers every time she does something she doesn't want to, what could be fatal.

Sam grinned. "That makes two of us then."

"Oh, do you have diabetes too?" Stacey got excited. She could already see Sam and herself jabbing insulin together in the bathroom. Poor Stacey doesn't have a very vivid imagination.

"Nope, but I have syph", Sam said, still smiling.

"Oh, what is that?"

"Come to my room and I'll show ya", Sam winked.

Stacey was just following Sam upstairs when Watson returned.

"Hi all, I'm back!" he cried cheerily. His face fell when he came to the living room. "What's happened here?" he asked. "I told you not to make a mess and you did the opposite."

At that moment Andrew came crying downstairs. "She locked me into the wardrobe!" he shouted. "It took me ages to get out!"

"Oh he did it, he did it!" Karen shrieked. "Andrew has supernatural forces!"

Watson watched Stacey accusingly. "How can you explain this? First you come 20 minutes late, and then you let the kids to mess up and bully each other. What kind of a babysitter are you?"

Before Stacey had had time to answer Sam had started to defend her. "Oh, he was so brave", Stacey told us later. "Especially when he said to Watson that he was nothing but a stupid old fag."

I closed the notebook and switched off the light. I hoped I wouldn't have another nightmare, but I probably would. I have them when I'm nervous, and now I really was. It was because Mrs. Spier would give her first public speech on the next afternoon. Then I would, for the first time ever, see my mother.