of the triplets with their haircuts. The ball had sailed over the net fast and hard. It whammed into Nicky's out-
stretched hand, and smashed his fingers.
"Owl" he cried again. "My hand!"
Nicky sounded terrified. Dad, my brothers, Claire, and I all ran to him.
"Ow! Ow!" Nicky continued to shriek. He doubled over, clutching his hand to his stomach.
"Let me see, Nick-o," said my father, easing Nicky's hand toward him.
We all stared. Nicky's pointer finger was sticking out from his hand at a strange angle.
"Oh, no," I said with a gasp.
"Broken," said Dad briskly.
Buddy burst into tears. "I'm sorry, Nicky. I'm sorry," he kept saying.
Mom drove up just then. She saw the crowd in our yard, rushed over to us (along with Margo and Vanessa), took one look at Nicky's finger, and said, "Emergency room. Mallory, you're in charge."
My brothers and sisters and I just stood in the yard with our mouths open while Mom and Dad carried Nicky to the station wagon and backed down the driveway. The only one making any noise was Buddy, who was still crying.
I remembered Mom's words, "Mallory, you're in charge," and decided I'd better act like it. First, I calmed down Buddy and sent him
home. Then I told the others to go inside and that I would fix them a snack.
When things were under control, I sank into a chair in the living room for a few minutes.
Wouldn't the girls in the Baby-sitters Club be proud of me? I thought. I was taking care of six of my brothers and sisters all by myself. None of the other girls had ever done that, since Mom insists on two sitters if more than five kids need to be taken care of.
Two hours later, Nicky returned.
"Look!" he said, marching proudly into the kitchen, Mom and Dad at his heels.
"What's that?" asked Claire, peering at his hand.
"A cast. My finger was broken in two places. They took X rays."
"He was very brave," said Mom.
Nicky's cast was a complicated thing covering most of his finger and hand, and positioning the finger in a way that looked pretty uncomfortable. But Nicky didn't mind. He was waiting for Monday so he could show off his injury in school.
And I was waiting for Monday so I could brag to the girls in the Baby-sitters Club about my unexpected job.
Chapter 2.
Monday morning at last! Sunday had seemed like the longest day of my life. I had finished Freaky Friday, read three more chapters of The Incredible Journey, and written a story about a frog in a rainstorm called "Rainy Days and Froggy Nights." I had entertained Nicky and baked cookies with Margo. When all that was done it was still only four o'clock in the afternoon.
But now Monday had arrived. I leaped out of bed and flung open my closet door. I wondered what a person was supposed to wear to a baby-sitting meeting with thirteen-year-olds. I decided I should look just a little dressed up. I thought about Claudia and the other girls in the club. I was pretty sure that when they got dressed up, they wore trendy clothes like big, bright sweater-dresses or sparkly tops and tight pants. I don't have any
clothes like that. Mom says I'm too young. Maybe when I'm twelve or thirteen.
Well, I could look nice anyway. After standing in front of the closet for so long that Vanessa made a pig face at me while she chose her clothes, I finally decided on my red jumper that said Mallory across the front, a short-sleeved white blouse, and white tights with little red hearts all over them.
"You look like a Valentine," Vanessa told me, but I didn't care.
I put on my penny loafers.
"Mallory!" said Mom, as I sat down at the breakfast table a little while later. "You look lovely. . . . This isn't school-picture day, is it?" she added, glancing suspiciously at my brothers and sisters. They certainly were not dressed in their best clothes.
"No, Mom. Don't worry," I told her. "I'm going to the Baby-sitters Club meeting, remember?"
"Oh, that's right. Well, have fun."
Have fun, I thought. Sure. I was as jumpy as a cat.
When I got to
stretched hand, and smashed his fingers.
"Owl" he cried again. "My hand!"
Nicky sounded terrified. Dad, my brothers, Claire, and I all ran to him.
"Ow! Ow!" Nicky continued to shriek. He doubled over, clutching his hand to his stomach.
"Let me see, Nick-o," said my father, easing Nicky's hand toward him.
We all stared. Nicky's pointer finger was sticking out from his hand at a strange angle.
"Oh, no," I said with a gasp.
"Broken," said Dad briskly.
Buddy burst into tears. "I'm sorry, Nicky. I'm sorry," he kept saying.
Mom drove up just then. She saw the crowd in our yard, rushed over to us (along with Margo and Vanessa), took one look at Nicky's finger, and said, "Emergency room. Mallory, you're in charge."
My brothers and sisters and I just stood in the yard with our mouths open while Mom and Dad carried Nicky to the station wagon and backed down the driveway. The only one making any noise was Buddy, who was still crying.
I remembered Mom's words, "Mallory, you're in charge," and decided I'd better act like it. First, I calmed down Buddy and sent him
home. Then I told the others to go inside and that I would fix them a snack.
When things were under control, I sank into a chair in the living room for a few minutes.
Wouldn't the girls in the Baby-sitters Club be proud of me? I thought. I was taking care of six of my brothers and sisters all by myself. None of the other girls had ever done that, since Mom insists on two sitters if more than five kids need to be taken care of.
Two hours later, Nicky returned.
"Look!" he said, marching proudly into the kitchen, Mom and Dad at his heels.
"What's that?" asked Claire, peering at his hand.
"A cast. My finger was broken in two places. They took X rays."
"He was very brave," said Mom.
Nicky's cast was a complicated thing covering most of his finger and hand, and positioning the finger in a way that looked pretty uncomfortable. But Nicky didn't mind. He was waiting for Monday so he could show off his injury in school.
And I was waiting for Monday so I could brag to the girls in the Baby-sitters Club about my unexpected job.
Chapter 2.
Monday morning at last! Sunday had seemed like the longest day of my life. I had finished Freaky Friday, read three more chapters of The Incredible Journey, and written a story about a frog in a rainstorm called "Rainy Days and Froggy Nights." I had entertained Nicky and baked cookies with Margo. When all that was done it was still only four o'clock in the afternoon.
But now Monday had arrived. I leaped out of bed and flung open my closet door. I wondered what a person was supposed to wear to a baby-sitting meeting with thirteen-year-olds. I decided I should look just a little dressed up. I thought about Claudia and the other girls in the club. I was pretty sure that when they got dressed up, they wore trendy clothes like big, bright sweater-dresses or sparkly tops and tight pants. I don't have any
clothes like that. Mom says I'm too young. Maybe when I'm twelve or thirteen.
Well, I could look nice anyway. After standing in front of the closet for so long that Vanessa made a pig face at me while she chose her clothes, I finally decided on my red jumper that said Mallory across the front, a short-sleeved white blouse, and white tights with little red hearts all over them.
"You look like a Valentine," Vanessa told me, but I didn't care.
I put on my penny loafers.
"Mallory!" said Mom, as I sat down at the breakfast table a little while later. "You look lovely. . . . This isn't school-picture day, is it?" she added, glancing suspiciously at my brothers and sisters. They certainly were not dressed in their best clothes.
"No, Mom. Don't worry," I told her. "I'm going to the Baby-sitters Club meeting, remember?"
"Oh, that's right. Well, have fun."
Have fun, I thought. Sure. I was as jumpy as a cat.
When I got to
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