Part 2 (2/2)

”Next door to the Kilbournes,” he went on, pointing to the yard two houses away, ”are the Delaneys. And they are - ”

”Awful,” Hannie supplied. She'd stopped wiggling Sari's toes and was listening to Linny and me.

”Really?” I asked. I'd met Amanda. She hadn't seemed too bad. ”How are they awful?”

”Well, there are two of them,” said Linny.

”Amanda and Max,” Hannie added, making a horrible face.

”They're our ages.” Linny pointed to himself and Hannie. ”Amanda's eight and Max is six.”

”But we never, ever play with them,” said Hannie. ”Because they are mean and nasty and spoiled. And bossy. Mostly bossy.”

”Wow,” I exclaimed. I'd never heard Hannie get so worked up. I was about to ask them some more about the Delaneys when Shannon Kilbourne came out of her house and joined Tiffany in the yard. I know she'd seen me, but she pretended she hadn't. At first. After a few minutes, though, she began to stare at me.

How rude.

”Come on, you guys. Let's go inside,” I said. ”Maybe Noodle's there. We better find him.”

Since Linny and Hannie are endlessly agreeable, they followed me into the house. I carried Sari on my hip.

”Noooo-dle!” Hannie called.

”Noooo-dle!” Linny called.

”Noooo-noo!” Sari called.

We hadn't gotten further than the living room when the phone rang. ”I'll get it,” I said. ”You guys keep looking for Noodle.”

I ran into the kitchen and picked up the phone. ”h.e.l.lo, Papadakis residence.”

”h.e.l.lo? Is that you, Kristy?”

The voice was vaguely familiar, but I couldn't quite place it. ”Yes. This is Kristy. . . . Who's this?”

”It's Shannon Kilbourne next door. Listen, there's smoke coming out of the upstairs windows at the Papadakises'. The house is on fire!”

I felt my stomach turn to ice. My knees buckled. This was the one thing I feared most when I was baby-sitting. A fire. But I had to stay calm. Don't panic, I told myself.

”Call the fire department!” I yelled at Shannon. Then I slammed down the phone and raced into the living room. I was hoping desperately that I would find all three kids together where I had left them.

But the only one there was Sari, sucking on one of her fingers. I scooped her up. From the other end of the house, I could hear Linny and Hannie calling for Noodle. I raced through the living room, a hallway, the library, and onto the sunporch. Thank goodness. There they were.

”Hannie, Linny,” I said breathlessly, ”I want you to pay very close attention to me. The house is on fire. We have to get out. There's no time to try to take stuff with us. Is there a way off the sunporch?”

”No,” replied Linny. ”It's not a real porch.”

”We have to get Myrtle and Noodle!” Hannie cried, already sounding panicked.

”We can't,” I told her, pus.h.i.+ng her and Linny ahead of me into the library. ”Now go straight to the front door. But don't run. You might fall.”

The kids obeyed. On the way to the door, though, we pa.s.sed Myrtle's box and in one swift movement, Linny stooped down, picked up the turtle, and kept on going. I didn't say anything.

As soon as we were out the front door, I cried, ”Now you can run! Go right to the sidewalk, but don't run into the street.”

Hannie and Linny ran, their legs pumping up and down. Myrtle was clutched between Linny's hands. Halfway across the lawn I dared to look back at the house. That's funny, I thought. I couldn't see even a wisp of smoke. I stopped. I sniffed the air. I didn't smell smoke, either. The house looked fine.

”Linny! Hannie! Stay where you are!” I called to them. They were standing on the sidewalk. Hannie was crying.

I was trying to decide whether it would be safe to approach the house with Sari in my arms, when I heard loud laughter from the Kilbournes' house. Shannon was in her front yard, doubled over. ”Fake out! Fake out! Made you look!” she screeched.

I put Sari down and marched over to her. ”Are you saying there's no fire?” I asked.

Shannon was laughing too hard to answer me.

So I stuck my tongue out at her and stomped away. I felt like a fool.

I calmed Hannie and Linny down, and then we found Noodle (who'd been napping under a bed). By then, Mrs. Papadakis was due home, so we never did hold the pet fas.h.i.+on show.

Of course, I had to tell Mrs. P. what had happened, since the false alarm was all Hannie and Linny could talk about. Mrs. P. became very angry, put her hands on her hips, and said, ”I'll have to have a talk with Shannon before she sits again.” But I didn't feel much better about the situation. All I wanted to do was get back at Shannon. The question was how?

The idea came to me early that evening, and I have absolutely no idea where it came from. One moment, I didn't know what to do about Shannon Louisa Kilbourne. The next moment, this great idea was in my head.

I got out a phone book, found the number of a diaper service, and dialed it.

”Mr. Stork's Diapers,” said a pleasant-sounding man.

”h.e.l.lo,” I said. ”I'm sorry to be calling so late, but this is sort of an emergency. My mom is sick, so we're going to need diaper service for my baby sister for about two weeks, starting tomorrow morning, if possible.”

”Of course,” replied the man. ”Name please?”

”Shannon Kilbourne.”

”Address?”

I gave the man the Kilbournes' address. When I went to bed that night, I was smiling.

And the next morning, I was delighted with what I saw from one of the guest bedrooms at the front of our house. It was the Mr. Stork truck. It pulled into the Kilbournes' driveway, and even from across the street I could hear bells jangling out ”Rock-a-Bye, Baby.” Then a man dressed as a stork dumped a huge package of diapers on the Kilbournes' front steps and drove off.

I was nearly hysterical.

Gotcha, Shannon! I thought.

Chapter 5.

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