Operation Baby-Sitter (2 page)

H
e didn’t have long to find out.

“Grandpa Frederic has something to tell you, Bundy,”Mrs. Neel said. Her voice sounded a little funny.

Grandpa Frederic cleared his throat.“You know I was in Florida last week, right?”

Bundy nodded.

“Well, I found a nice house when I was there.”

“A house?”Bundy echoed.“What for?”

Grandpa Frederic chuckled.“What are houses usually for?” He turned serious.
“Bundy, I’ve decided to move to Florida. Snowy winters aren’t much fun for me anymore.”

Bundy’s mouth sagged. Grandpa Frederic was
moving?

Grandpa Frederic smiled gently.“Come on, look on the bright side. You can come visit me, and we’ll go to all those cool amusement
parks together.”He scratched his chin.“I might even get on a roller coaster.”

“Dad!”Mrs. Neel scolded, laughing. Then she turned to Bundy and dropped the second bombshell of the day.

“Since your grandpa is moving,”Mrs. Neel said,“your dad and I have hired a girl to come over every day. She’ll have a car,
so she can take you wherever you need to go and —”

“Wait a minute,”Bundy interrupted, a look of horror on his face.“Are you saying I’m going to have a — a —
baby-sitter?
”

Mr. and Mrs. Neel exchanged a glance.

“Now, Bundy, don’t make it sound so bad,” Mrs. Neel said.“You and Mary have a lot in common. In fact, she —”

“But I’m ten years old!”Bundy cried.“I can take care of myself.”

Mr. Neel looked pained.“Your mother and I aren’t comfortable with that, Bundy.”

His grandfather laid a hand on his arm.

“Bundy,”he said gently,“what’s so wrong with having someone look after you? That’s all I ever did.”

Bundy shook his head.“It was different with you. My friends all thought it was cool that we hung out together. But if the
other ’Cats find out I have to have a
baby-sitter—”
The rest of the thought was too terrible to say out loud. He shoved his chair away from the table and ran up the stairs to
his bedroom.

Hot tears pricked his eyes as he flung himself onto his bed.

A baby-sitter,
he thought disgustedly.
The captain of a soccer team can’t have a baby-sitter.

He rolled over and stared at the ceiling.

There’s only one thing to do,
he decided.
I’ll have to make her quit. In the meantime, I’ll have to make sure none of the ’Cats finds out about her!

G
randpa Frederic left for Florida a few days later. He gave Bundy a big hug in the airport.

“Give the baby-sitter a chance,”he whispered. Bundy didn’t say anything. He just held on to his grandpa with all his might.

Then Grandpa Frederic was gone. Bundy watched the plane until it was a dot in the sky.

It was Friday. The baby-sitter wouldn’t start until after the weekend. He had three days to come up with a plan.

At practice, his mind was in a jumble. Part of it was missing his grandfather. Another
part was thinking about the baby-sitter. Still another part was trying to figure out what to do about her.

And underneath all these parts was a tiny section that whispered Grandpa Frederic’s last words to him:
Give the baby-sitter a chance.

He pushed the whisper away and tried to concentrate on practice.

The coach blew his whistle and called the team together.

“We’re going to work on defensive moves today,”Coach Bradley said.“Bundy, since you seem to be having a little trouble with
the block tackle from the side, I’m going to have you focus on that. Eddie, pair off with him. Now, the rest of you…”

Eddie Sweeney jumped up, dropped a ball at her feet, and started dribbling down the field.

Bundy chased after her. He rushed up on her right side and got his left foot in close to
the ball. He spun into tackle position. Quick as a wink, he made the steal!

“Okay, that’s better,”Coach Bradley praised him. He had sent other pairs of players to practice different moves, then returned
to where Bundy and Eddie were playing.“Now try it again.”

This time, Eddie was better prepared, so Bundy had a little more difficulty. But he finally stole the ball.

For the next ten minutes, Bundy worked on the tackle. Sometimes he was successful. But a lot of times Eddie made it down the
length of the field with the ball.

Finally, he and Eddie switched positions. Her red hair blazing in the sun, Eddie looked determined to master the tackle.

She didn’t have to work very hard. Coach Bradley was on the other side of the field, and Bundy’s mind was on his baby-sitter
problem again. After a few halfhearted plays,
Eddie put her hands on her hips and glared at him.

“What?”Bundy said stupidly.

Eddie rolled her eyes.“What will it take to make you pay attention?”She got a gleam in her eye.“Oh, wait — I have an idea.”She
suddenly stomped on Bundy’s left foot.

“Ow!”he yelped.“What’d you do that for?”

Eddie smiled sweetly.“I don’t like to be ignored.”

Bundy stared at her. A thoughtful look crossed his face.“Being ignored makes you angry, huh? Hmm.”He started to smile.“Eddie,
you just gave me a great idea! I could kiss you for it.”

Eddie backed off.“Don’t even think about it, Bundy Neel,”she warned.“Or your right foot will feel like your left one!”

W
hen Monday morning arrived, Bundy had Operation Baby-Sitter all figured out. He almost couldn’t wait for his parents to leave
so he could put it to the test.

Bundy answered the doorbell when it rang.

Mary was a tall, athletic-looking girl. She wore gym shorts and a T-shirt with a sports design on it. Her long black hair
was pulled back into a ponytail, her bangs falling just above her eyes. She carried a big duffel bag.

“So, you’re Bundy, huh?”Bundy just
shrugged and motioned for her to follow him into the kitchen.

Bundy was stone-faced at the kitchen table. His parents chattered to fill the silence.

“Bundy’s got his soccer game this afternoon,”Mrs. Neel said,“but his morning is free. So you should have plenty of time to
get to know each other. Right, Bundy?”

Bundy didn’t answer.

Mr. Neel pointed out the emergency phone numbers on the fridge.“Not that we expect Bundy to eat poison or anything. At least,
not on your first day, ha, ha,”he joked lamely. Mary smiled and shot Bundy a quick“parents-can-be-so-silly”look.

But Bundy just looked down.

Finally, his parents left.

Okay,
Bundy thought as he closed the door behind them,
time for Operation Baby-Sitter to go into effect!

He turned from the door and walked across the kitchen.

“So, what do you feel like doing?”Mary said, reaching for her duffel bag.“Your folks told me you play…”

Her voice trailed away as Bundy walked up the stairs to his bedroom. Bundy could feel her eyes on him the whole way. Only
when he shut the bedroom door did he let out the breath he’d been holding.

Ignoring Mary was harder than he’d thought. But he was sure that it would be even harder on her. By the day’s end, he hoped
she’d be picking up her duffel bag and leaving for good. Who’d want to spend time with someone who pretended you didn’t exist?

Bundy stayed in his room all morning. He read a few comic books. He started a letter to his grandfather but didn’t get any
farther than“Dear Grandpa, How are you?”before putting the pencil down.

This must be what it’s like to be in jail,
he
thought.
Wish I had a tree outside my window so I could escape.

All of a sudden, he heard a familiar sound coming from the backyard.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

He peered out the window.

There was Mary, holding a soccer ball. As Bundy watched, she tossed the ball into the air. She bounced it straight up off
one knee, then the other, then back to the first.

The ball dropped to the ground, and she started to dribble. She dodged imaginary opponents with quick moves. Finally, she
sent the ball soaring into a small net she must have brought with her. She retrieved the ball and started back the other way.

Bundy couldn’t believe it. Mary was a soccer player — and from what he could see, a pretty good one.

It doesn’t matter,
Bundy thought as he followed her every move.
She’s a baby-sitter. That makes her the enemy.

Still, Bundy found a stream of questions cramming his brain.
Where had Mary learned to play soccer? Had she been playing a long time? Did she play on a team? What did she know about block
tackling?

He pushed them all aside as best he could, but still the questions came.

Traitor!
he yelled at his brain as he picked up another comic book and started to read.