Part 2 (2/2)

”What are you doing?” asked Kristy.

”I just took four sixty-one from the treasury,” Dawn replied. ”If we add it to the money we're donating, our reward will be an even thirty bucks. Won't that look nice on the poster?” Five heads nodded. And I began to cry.

”Mary Anne? What's wrong?” asked Dawn. ”Don't worry. There's still plenty of money in the treasury. I just took out enough to make thirty.” ”Oh, it's not that,” I said, sniffling. (Claudia handed me a tissue.) ”It's all of you. Donating the money you worked so hard for. I know you're saving for things. And now, you're giving up your money for Tigger.” ”And,” added Dawn, ”for you.” Well, that started a fresh flood of tears. I was crying for me, for Tigger, but mostly because my friends were being so wonderful.

I cried until Dawn slid off of Claud's bed, crossed the room, and put her arms around me. Slowly, my tears subsided.

Just as I was getting under control again, I heard Mal say, ” 'What shall we do about poor little Tigger?' ” ”Huh?” said Kristy.

”It's from The House at Pooh Corner,” she replied. ”Our family's been reading it aloud. That line is the beginning of one of Pooh's hums. You know, his poemy-songs. The rest of it is about getting Tigger the tiger to eat. But that first line makes me think of Mary Anne's Tigger.” ”Yeah,” I said, nodding slowly. ”What shall we do about poor little Tigger?” I almost started to cry again, but Kristy said, ”Come on, we have work to do. If we can get a sample poster finished, my mom could go to her office tonight and run off copies. Then we - ” ”She'll go to the office on a Sat.u.r.day night?” interrupted Claud.

”Maybe,” replied Kristy. ”For something this important. How many copies do you think I should ask her to make?” We decided on a number. Then we got to work on the poster. When we were finished, this is what the top part looked like: Underneath this information, Claud drew a picture of Tigger that really looked like him. She kept sending me home for photos of him so that she could work from them, but I didn't mind. I'd do anything that would help find him.

And at the bottom of the poster in huge letters we wrote: $30 Reward for the safe return of Tigger.

We laid the poster on the bed, and the six of us leaned over to look at it. Mimi came in at that moment. ”What is picture?” she asked. (Mimi had a stroke last summer and it affected her speech.) ”If s Tigger,” Claudia told her grandmother. ”He's missing, and we're going to help find him.” Mimi looked puzzled. ”Eggplants,” was all she said. Then she left.

A moment of silence followed.

”I think the poster looks perfect,” I said.

”I just hope it works,” added Dawn.

”It will. It has to,” Jessi said vehemently.

”Where will we put the posters?” asked Claud. I could tell she was trying not to think about Mimi. I hoped she knew the rest of us didn't mind the funny little things that happened.

”Oh, we'll put them on phone poles, in people's mailboxes. We'll go all over our neighborhood. I mean, your neighborhood,” replied Kristy. ”Well, I better call Charlie for a ride. Let's meet back here at noon tomorrow.” We agreed to the plan and I ran home, hoping to find Tigger.

No Tigger.

I called Logan instead and gave him the news.

”Gee, that's too bad,” he said vaguely.

That was it? Tigger was missing and Logan said, ”Too bad”? Where was his brain?

”Logan, he's been missing for twenty-four hours.” ”I'm really sorry. . . . Oh! Darn. Now I see.” ”See what?” ”What went wrong in practice today. I'm watching tapes of our games.” I couldn't believe it. But I just calmly said good-bye and hung up.

Chapter 7.

I could tell, just from reading this notebook entry, how close Jessi and Becca and Squirt are. That is so nice. Boy, do I wish for a brother and sister. Or for just one of them.

Or for Tigger.

Anyway, as soon as Mr. and Mrs. Ramsey left, Becca said to her big sister, ”Jessi, I'm hungry.” ”I know,” replied Jessi. ”Me, too. But I want to give Squirt his supper first. I think that'll be easier. Then you and I can eat together when he's finished.” ”Okay,” said Becca reluctantly. She didn't want to wait - but she did want to eat dinner with Jessi.

Jessi fixed Squirt a cheese sandwich and some grapes. She cut the sandwich into small pieces, since Squirt is learning to feed himself. Then she put the food in Squirt's airplane dish, set the dish and a bottle of milk on the kitchen table, sat Squirt in his high chair, and placed his dinner in front of him.

Squirt smiled.

He picked up a piece of sandwich. He opened it. He put the cheese in his mouth and let the bread fall to the floor. Then he mashed a grape in his hands. And laughed.

”Der-bliss!” he cried.

He took another grape, tried to bite it in half, and sent it sailing across the room. More laughter.

Half an hour later, Squirt's bottle was empty. So was his airplane tray. But cheese was squished in his hair, his hands were covered with mashed grapes, and the kitchen was littered with bread, cheese, and grapes.

”You know what?” said Jessi to her sister. ”I don't think he ate anything. He drank his milk. Well, he did eat that one piece of cheese, but everything else is somewhere in the kitchen.” Becca giggled. ”The best part was when he shot that grape at me. Right out of his mouth. And right at my nose. I know he did it on purpose.” Becca helped Jessi clean the kitchen. Then Jessi cleaned up Squirt. And then she and her sister sat down to their own supper while Squirt watched them from his playpen.

”We get toasted cheese sandwiches,” said Becca happily.

”Yes,” replied Jessi, ”because we're older and know how to eat. But if you spit anything across the table at me - I'll make you sit in the high chair.” Becca giggled.

They began to eat.

”What shall we do about poor little Tigger?” murmured Jessi a few moments later.

”What do you mean?” asked Becca.

Jessi told her about Pooh's hum, and about the missing Tigger.

”Gosh, that's awful,” said Becca. ”You know who's going to be really upset? I mean, besides Mary Anne?” ”Who?” ”Charlotte. She loves Tigger. She wishes Tigger were hers.” ”I can understand that. Tigger's pretty cute. And Charlotte doesn't have a pet.” ”I'm sure glad Misty lives in his cage,” said Becca. ”He can't run away.” Misty is the Ramseys' hamster. He's their first pet ever. Jessi and Becca think he's so adorable they could practically eat him up. He is cute. Because he's young, he's very small. Everything about him is tiny and adorable. (Kind of like Tigger). He's got itty-bitty feet with claws on them you can barely see. And by his nose, which is pink, are pale, pale whiskers. They're almost transparent. Misty is also pretty. His fur is patches of golden brown and white, and his eyes are s.h.i.+ny and black.

Guess how Jessi got Misty. She didn't go to a pet store and buy him. He came from some of her neighbors, the Mancusis. They were going away on vacation and needed a pet-sitter. So they called the Baby-sitters Club! Ordinarily, Kristy doesn't like for us club members to pet-sit, but Jessi had a free week, so she took the job - and found herself caring for cats, dogs, hamsters, rabbits, a disgusting snake that got loose one afternoon, some fish, and I don't remember what else. Anyway, while she was on the job, she discovered that one of the hamsters was going to have babies. Misty is one of those babies, of course, and the Mancusis were delighted to let Jessi have him. (By the way, Mal's family also took a hamster baby.) ”I'm glad Misty lives in a cage, too,” said Jessi. ”Being cooped up might seem cruel, but at least it's safe.” ”Hey!” cried Becca. ”I just got an idea. Maybe the Mancusis have a kitten they could give to Mary Anne. I mean, if Tigger doesn't come back.” ”Maybe . . .” Jessi replied slowly. ”Two of their cats are going to have kittens.” ”One of the kittens might look like Tigger!” exclaimed Becca.

”Maybe,” Jessi said again. Then, ”I'm just wondering about one thing. Would Mary Anne want another kitten? I mean, let's say something happened to Misty - ” ”What would happen to Misty?” cried Becca.

”Nothing. I'm just saying if something happened - ” ”If what happened?” Becca had put her sandwich down on her plate. She looked worriedly at her sister.

Jessi sighed. ”Nothing. But think of it this way: If you didn't have Misty, would you want a different hamster? Sort of as a replacement?” ”No way!” ”Okay. That's what I'm thinking about with Mary Anne and Tigger. I'm not sure she'd want a replacement kitten. Not right away.” ”But it's nice to know the Mancusis are here,” said Becca.

”Yeah,” agreed Jessi. ”It's nice to know they're here.” ”Ah-choo! Ah-choo!” called Squirt from his playpen. He was standing up, his arms hanging over the sides, looking at his big sisters.

Jessi and Becca began to giggle. Squirt's newest trick is pretending to sneeze. Only his sneezes don't sound real. He just yells, ”Ah-choo!” which sometimes comes out ”Ah-shoo!” or even ”Ah-too!” ”Hey, Squirt,” said Becca, ”if you eat all your vegetables, will you get” (she lowered her voice dramatically) big. . .and. . .strong?” Squirt's face broke into a dimply smile. Then he squeezed his hands into fists, and posed his arms like a strongman.

Jessi and Becca were now giggling so hard they could barely eat. But they calmed down. As they finished their dinners, Becca said, ”Jessi, can I help Squirt walk later?” ”Sure,” answered Jessi, wondering why her sister had even asked. Squirt was a new and unsteady walker, but Becca had helped him toddle around plenty of times.

”Oh, goody,” replied Becca. She was quick to help Jessi with the dishes. Then she ran to Squirt's playpen and lifted him out.

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