That evening The Boxcar Helpers got a late night phone call. Jessie answered the phone. “Hello?”
“This is Gail Jackson. I’m sorry to call you so late,” a woman’s pleasant voice sounded on the phone. “But it’s something of an emergency, and I saw your signs for the helper service.”
“We’ll help you if we can,” said Jessie.
“Oh, I hope you can. I need a baby-sitter for Shirley. She’s three. I have a meeting I must attend, and her regular baby-sitter canceled.”
“I think we can help,” said Jessie. “But let me call you back.”
She carefully wrote down the time and place of the baby-sitting job, then hung up the phone and turned around to talk to the others.
“Mrs. Jackson, over on Walnut Street, needs us to baby-sit for her daughter Shirley tomorrow afternoon from one until four-thirty,” she told them.
“Uh-oh,” said Henry. “I’m weeding Mrs. Paul’s flowerbeds tomorrow afternoon.”
“And I’m walking the Peterson’s Great Dane,” said Jessie.
“I don’t think I could baby-sit for a three-year-old by myself,” said Violet.
They all looked at Benny. “I’m too young,” said Benny. “Aren’t I?”
“I’m afraid so, Benny,” said Henry.
“Beth and I could do it together,” suggested Violet.
“I don’t know if we should ask her, Violet. She’s been acting awfully strange lately,” said Jessie.
“I don’t think so,” said Violet stubbornly.
“Well.” Henry looked thoughtful. “If the two of you were together, what could go wrong?”
“That’s true,” agreed Jessie.
“Good,” said Violet. “Then I’ll call Beth and ask her.”
Violet did just that, and Beth sounded surprised and pleased. “I’ll be there,” she assured Violet.
Mrs. Jackson was also pleased when Jessie called her back. “I am so glad,” she told Jessie. “Your helper service is a life-saver!”
The next day, Violet rode her bike over to the Jacksons’. The Jacksons lived on a quiet, shady street near the Aldens. The white house had cheerful blue shutters on the windows, and a big old apple tree out front. Squirrels were running around as Violet pedaled up the driveway.
Violet propped her bicycle against the garage and turned, laughing, to watch the squirrels scampering about. Just then, Beth came riding up the driveway. She skidded to a halt and sent the squirrels scurrying away in fright.
Violet was a little surprised, too.
Beth put her bicycle beside Violet’s then walked with Violet up to the front door.
“Right on time,” said a firm voice as the front door opened.
“Hello,” said Violet softly. “I’m Violet Alden, and . . . oh!”
The woman in the door was tall and thin, and she had bright red hair. She was the angry doctor from the Greenfield Hospital!
“Hello,” said the woman. “I’m Dr. Jackson.”
“I’m Beth Simon,” said Beth.
Violet didn’t know quite what to say.
As if she could understand how surprised Violet was, Dr. Jackson said, “Come on in. I had to have a baby-sitter, and I didn’t know whom to call. Then I remembered seeing your sign in the flower shop. And, for that matter, seeing the rest of your signs all over Greenfield.”
“Oh,” said Violet.
“Your service is a good one,” said Dr. Jackson. “I don’t agree that a new hospital wing is the best idea, but it is better than nothing.” She paused and looked thoughtful. “And I admire people, especially young people, who are willing to work for something they believe in. So I decided to call you.” Dr. Jackson didn’t smile, but she didn’t look so stern now.
“Th-thank you,” said Violet, still very surprised.
“This is Shirley,” said Dr. Jackson. A little girl in neat blue denim overalls, with her hair in two fat pigtails, came up to Dr. Jackson and grabbed her hand.
Violet smiled. “Hello, Shirley.”
Shirley looked at Violet thoughtfully. “I’m three,” she announced.
Dr. Jackson smiled. “Shirley just had a birthday,” she explained. “Shirley, this is Beth and this is . . . ?”
“Violet Alden,” said Violet.
“Violet,” repeated Dr. Jackson. “They will be staying with you until I come back in a little while. Remember, I told you about that?”
Shirley nodded solemnly.
“Good,” said Dr. Jackson. “Now, Beth and Violet, here is a phone number where I can be reached if anything comes up. There’s a snack for Shirley when she gets hungry this afternoon in the kitchen—banana pudding and milk. There are other things, too, if you get hungry, so please make yourselves at home. I’ll be back by four-thirty.”
Dr. Jackson kissed Shirley good-bye and hurried out the door.
Violet took Shirley’s hand. “You know, I have a brother a little bit older than you. His name is Benny.”
Shirley looked at Violet and at Beth. Then she let go of Violet’s hand and sat down on the floor and began to cry.
“Mammaaa,” howled Shirley.
“Oh, Shirley. Don’t cry. Your mother will be back in just a little while.”
“Mammmaa,” cried Shirley louder.
“Shhh,” said Violet soothingly.
“Good grief,” said Beth.
Violet took Shirley’s hand and pulled her to her feet. “You take her other hand, Beth,” she said.
“Why?” asked Beth.
“We’ll take her outside in the backyard. If we can get her to play, she’ll forget about her mother and stop crying.”
In the backyard was a big sandbox full of toys. “Here,” said Violet. “We’ll build sand castles. Would you like to build sand castles, Shirley?”
Shirley kept crying.
“Good grief, stop it!” snapped Beth, snatching her hand free from Shirley’s.
Violet looked at Beth in surprise.
“What a brat,” said Beth.
“She’s just scared because her mother’s gone and we’re strangers. If you try to understand, it’s not so hard,” Violet said.
Beth folded her arms and sat down on the edge of the sandbox. “Well . . . do something.”
Beth is acting so strangely, thought Violet. Gently she led Shirley into the sandbox. She sat down by her and began to pour sand into the different colored containers.
Watching Violet, Shirley gradually began to stop crying. Then she was only sniffling. Suddenly, she reached out for a container.
“Mine,” she said, turning the container upside down to make a square sand tower.
“Good, Shirley,” said Violet.
As they played in the sandbox, Violet told Beth about Dr. Jackson and the conversation the Aldens had overheard at the hospital. “We wondered if Dr. Jackson might be the one who didn’t want us to raise money for the hospital,” said Violet. “But it doesn’t look that way, does it? I don’t think she played all those terrible tricks on us, do you?”
Beth, who had been sitting on the edge of the sandbox watching, folded her arms. “You never know,” she said.
“Well, I don’t think it is Dr. Jackson,” said Violet. “Are you hungry, Shirley? I think it’s time for your snack.”
The two girls took Shirley inside for her snack and sat with her. While she ate her banana pudding, Beth and Violet had milk.
“Can you say banana pudding?” Violet asked Shirley.
“Nannaning,” said Shirley.
Violet smiled, then looked up. Beth was staring at her.
“Is something wrong?” asked Violet.
Beth jumped. “Wrong? No. Of course not.”
But Violet couldn’t help but notice how uncomfortable Beth seemed. She wasn’t acting like herself at all.
Maybe her brothers and sister had been right about Beth, thought Violet. But she didn’t want to believe it.
Violet was relieved when Dr. Jackson came back, and it was time to go home. Beth said a quick good-bye to Violet and dashed off on her bicycle.
That night after dinner, Violet told everyone about the baby-sitting job and Dr. Jackson.
“Dr. Jackson?” asked Grandfather. “I know Dr. Jackson. She speaks her mind. But she is a good doctor, and a good person.”
“We wondered if she would not like us raising money for the new wing, since she was against building it,” said Jessie. “But it doesn’t look that way now.”
“No,” said Grandfather. He got up from the dinner table. “I’ll be in my study for a little while.”
After Grandfather left, Jessie said thoughtfully, “Still, something strange is going on. Maybe it is Beth. You did say she was acting nervous, Violet.”
“Maybe we shouldn’t be friends with Beth,” said Benny.
“That’s not fair,” protested Violet angrily. “You can’t just stop being friends with someone. You have to at least give her a chance.”
Henry nodded. “You’re right, Violet. Besides, the person who’s doing all these mean things could be Charlie the Fix-it Man.”
“Well,” said Jessie, “I hope we solve this mystery soon. But how are we going to do that?”
No one had an answer. |