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Authors: Susan Beth Pfeffer

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BOOK: Kid Power
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“I wouldn't be surprised,” Mom said. “As a matter of fact she was talking to me just the other day about cleaning out her attic. Janie could help her move the stuff and throw some of it out. Actually, I'd prefer if Janie did help. I don't like the idea of Mom all alone in that attic too long during the summer. It gets awfully hot in there.”

“I'll advertise,” I said. “I bet before too long I'll have thousands of jobs to do.”

“Advertise?” Dad said. “What do you want, commercials on television, or will full-page magazine ads do?”

“I'll put a sign up in the grocery store,” I said. “That's all I meant.”

“I'm still not sure I like the idea,” Dad said.

“I think we should let Janie give it a try,” Mom said. “It's always possible nothing will come of it.”

“I'll get lots of jobs,” I said.

“I certainly hope so,” Mom said. “Now if that topic's exhausted, I'd like to check out the newspaper want ads for jobs for myself.”

Carol and I both got up. I had the feeling Dad wanted to talk to Mom some more about it, but I was pretty sure Mom would convince him. Mom can be very convincing when she wants to be.

I followed Carol upstairs, then went to my room and got my sketch paper and magic markers. I walked to her room and knocked on her door.

“Go away,” Carol said.

“I've got to talk to you,” I said and went in anyway. Carol always tells me to go away, but I usually don't pay any attention to her.

“What do you want?” Carol asked. I could see she was checking out her savings account book to see how much money she had.

“I was wondering if you'd do the lettering for my sign?” I asked. “You're such a good letterer.”

“Okay,” Carol said, putting the book down. “I guess I'd better cooperate or I might not get my bike. But you can't have my paper route.”

“That was a dumb idea on my part,” I agreed. “Thanks, Carol.”

“Sure,” she said, and took the paper and markers. “You really think you'll save any of the money you'll earn? I bet you spend it as soon as you get it.”

“I will not,” I said. “I'll save it all until I have enough money for my half of the bike.”

“Good luck,” she said. “Now what do you want this sign to say?”

“I don't know,” I said. “I guess it should have my name and phone number on it, so people'll know who to call.”

“It's going to need more than that,” Carol said. “You're going to have to say what you do, or else nobody'll call.”

“But I don't know yet what I do,” I said. “I'll do whatever people hire me to do.”

“Then you need some sort of all-purpose name,” she said. “Something catchy that people'll notice.”

“Like the AFL-CIO,” I said.

“That wasn't quite what I had in mind,” Carol said. “You need a name like the stuff they sell in stores.”

“I refuse to be called Fab or Tide or Swanson's TV Dinners,” I said.

“All right, we'll wait on that,” Carol said. “You need a slogan, too.”

“I figured one out already,” I said. “‘No job too big or small.'”

“That's not bad,” Carol said, “Especially the small part.”

“Carol!”

“I'm serious,” she said. “You should let everybody know you're just a kid. People pay kids less. It's called child labor, and you don't have to give them minimum wage. That's one reason Dad didn't like the idea.”

“What should I charge then?” I asked.

“A dollar an hour,” Carol said. “Unless they want you to do something really hard. And your name should have something about being a kid in it.”

“Kid Power,” I said. “No job too big or small.”

“Perfect,” Carol said. “Kid Power it is.”

And that's how it all started.

Chapter Two

First thing next morning, I put my Kid Power sign up on the supermarket bulletin board. I knew people looked there a lot, and I was sure plenty of people from the development where we live would notice it. I went home and called Grandma next. She said she'd be delighted to have some help with the attic, so I took the bus to the outskirts of town, and then walked the rest of the way to her house.

I helped her for three hours, carrying boxes out of the attic and helping her decide what to keep and what to throw out. It seemed almost criminal to ask for money, especially since she gave me lemonade and cookies, and showed me Mom's baby pictures. We spent more time just talking than actually cleaning, and I carried practically as much back to the attic as I'd taken out, but Grandma claimed we'd done a lot of good work that day, and insisted on paying me my $3. I offered her a special family rate, but she said she wouldn't hear of it. She also said if she heard of anybody who needed help with odd jobs she'd recommend me. I had one last cookie, kissed her good-bye, and walked back to the bus. I didn't get home until pretty late in the afternoon, and when I did, I found Mom sitting in the kitchen, circling job ads in the paper.

“There you are,” she said. “You got a phone call.”

“Who?” I asked. “Lisa?” Lisa's my best friend, and she calls me all the time.

“No, a call for Kid Power,” Mom said. “I took the woman's name and number down and said you'd call her back just as soon as you got in.”

“Where is it!” I shouted. Somehow a job from your grandmother doesn't count the way a job from a stranger does.

“Calm down,” Mom said. “Right here.” She handed me a scrap of paper with “Mrs. Dale, 342-4456” written on it.

I called the number, and took a deep breath. That's a trick my father taught me. It makes your voice sound deeper and it relaxes you.

“Hello?”

“Hello, Mrs. Dale?”

“Speaking.”

“This is Janie Golden of Kid Power calling.”

“Oh yes,” Mrs. Dale said. “I saw your poster in the supermarket today, and I was wondering if you could help me.”

“I'm sure I can,” I said, trying to sound adult and authoritative.

“I'm having a yard sale on Saturday,” she said. “And your sign made me think it would be a good idea if I had someone at the sale just to look after the kids people bring with them. The little ones are always getting their hands on things, and without meaning to—well, sometimes they take things home with them.”

“So you'd want me to look after them,” I said. “Kind of day-care.”

“Exactly,” Mrs. Dale said. “Do you think you could fit me into your schedule?”

“I'm sure I could,” I said, pretending to look at a calendar. “Yes, I'm free on Saturday. What time would you want me there?”

“The sale is scheduled to start at ten,” she said, “which means the first customers will be there by eight-thirty. It's supposed to end at four, so that would be a full day's work for you.”

“No problem,” I said. “I'll be there at eight-thirty.”

“What do you charge?” she asked.

I breathed deep again. “A dollar an hour,” I said.

“Oh, that's quite reasonable,” Mrs. Dale said. “I'm sure if someone is there to watch after the children, their parents will be more likely to buy things.”

“There is one more thing,” I said.

“Certainly,” Mrs. Dale said. “What is it?”

“Kid Power is just getting started, and I could use some free publicity,” I said. “Would you mind if I put up a little sign, like I have at the supermarket, at your yard sale?”

“Of course not,” Mrs. Dale said. “I like an enterprising young woman. I'll see you Saturday then—120 Woodhaven Road.”

“Saturday,” I said, writing down the address. “Thank you Mrs. Dale.”

“Thank you, Janie,” she said, and we hung up.

“I got a job!” I hollered, running over to hug Mom. “Eight-thirty to four. At a dollar an hour, that's $7.50. And I earned $3.00 at Grandma's. I'm going to be rich!”

“It might rain on Saturday,” Mom said. “Don't spend your money before you see it.”

“I'm not going to spend any of it,” I said. “I'm going to save it all just like Carol until I'm the richest person in junior high.”

“Don't invest in municipal bonds then,” Mom said glumly, looking at the paper.

“Are there any jobs you could do?” I asked.

“Not that I can see,” she said. “I'm either under-qualified or overqualified or just plain not qualified. There doesn't seem to be much for an unemployed social worker these days.”

“You'll find something,” I said.

“I sure hope so,” she said. “So tell me. How's Grandma?”

We talked until Dad came home and then I told him all about the money I'd earned and the money I was going to earn. “I'm still not sure this is such a good idea,” he grumbled over supper, but I ignored him. I could tell from the three dollars in my wallet that this was one fine idea.

The next day I decided to drum up some business. I walked over to Mrs. Edwards' house and rang her bell. I could hear her coming to the door and waited until she did. Mrs. Edwards has arthritis and doesn't walk too fast.

“Why Janie, what a pleasant surprise,” she said. “Come in, honey.”

“Thank you,” I said, feeling a little guilty. It didn't seem right to be asking Mrs. Edwards for a job when she was just so happy to have some company. “How're you feeling?” I asked.

“About the same,” she said. “And how are you?”

“I'm fine,” I said. “My mom got laid off though.”

“Isn't that terrible,” she said. “I was wondering if all those cutbacks would affect her.”

“They did,” I said. “And until she gets a new job, I've decided to earn some money on my own. You see, Carol and I were supposed to get new bikes, and now we can't afford to, so I'm trying to earn money for mine.”

“Isn't that fine of you,” Mrs. Edwards said. “Tell me Janie, what kind of work do you think you'll get?”

“Well I've already gotten some jobs,” I said. “You see I'm calling myself Kid Power. I'm going to run errands for people. On Saturday I'm going to watch the kids at a yard sale.”

“I think it's just wonderful that you're helping your family out this way,” Mrs. Edwards said. “Is there anything I can do for you?”

“I was thinking about how you can't get out very much anymore,” I said. “I was wondering if you'd like me to check in on you every day and see if there's anything you'd like from the drugstore or grocery or library.”

“What a good idea,” Mrs. Edwards said. “As a matter of fact, I would like having someone to run errands like that for me. It's such a bother to get around, and there are times I feel so isolated. How much do you charge?”

“Fifty cents,” I said, giving Mrs. Edwards my newly created senior citizen discount rate. If I'd known about it the day before, I would have given it to Grandma.

“Monday through Friday,” Mrs. Edwards said. “I usually have someone over during the weekends to keep me company.”

“Great,” I said. “Thank you Mrs. Edwards. Is there anything I can do for you today?”

“If you could return my library books, I'd really appreciate it,” she said. “They're a couple of days overdue, and I'm so embarrassed about it. But now I'll never have to worry about overdue books again.”

“I'll be glad to return them,” I said. “Do you want me to take any out for you while I'm there?”

“Not today,” she said, and gave me a dollar bill. “Keep the change.”

“But the overdue fines won't be very much,” I said as she handed the books to me. There were only two of them.

“I'm sure you'll earn it by summer's end,” Mrs. Edwards said. “Besides, I like to reward such initiative and family spirit. Now run along, and I'll see you tomorrow morning.”

“Thanks a lot, Mrs. Edwards,” I said, and left, taking the books and the money with me. I went straight to the library and returned the books. Fifty cents a day would be $2.50 a week. That was $10.00 a month, maybe a little more. Added to the $3.00 I'd already earned, and the $7.50 I was going to earn on Saturday, that was $20.50 for just this month. And I was bound to get other jobs as well. If I earned just $1.00 a day extra for every day in the month, that would be another $31.00, which would put me at $51.50 for July. And if I made the same in August, I'd make over $100.00 in the summer, which would be more than enough for my bike. I was starting to understand why Carol never spent any of her money. It was more fun just running the figures through my mind and figuring out how much I'd be worth than buying a new comic book would be. Maybe I wouldn't even get the bike. Maybe I'd just save and save until I had a huge amount of money saved, and then I'd do something spectacular with it. I couldn't figure out just what I wanted all that much, but I was sure there would be something by the time I had the money saved.

While I was at the library, I took out
A Child's First Book of Investments
. It looked awfully dull, but I figured it wouldn't hurt to learn about tax shelters. I ran home and found there was nobody there. There was a note from Mom though saying “Carol's out swimming. I'm checking out a possible job. Keep your fingers crossed.”

I was kind of annoyed, even though I knew that was unreasonable of me. Suppose somebody had called with a job for me and there was nobody around to take the message? They might never call again, and then I'd be out the money.

I spent the rest of the day waiting for the phone to ring, which it never did, and reading
A Child's First Book of Investments
, which was even duller than it had looked at the library. When Mom came in, I ran downstairs, and asked her how the job interview had gone.

“Don't ask,” she growled.

I thought of telling her about Mrs. Edwards right then to cheer her up, but I decided to let it wait until supper time, when I
could cheer Dad up with it, too. I helped Mom make supper and set the table for her. Carol had called saying she'd been invited to have supper at her best friend's, so we made a big salad for the three of us. Carol doesn't like salad as much as we do.

BOOK: Kid Power
3.88Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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