Baby-Sitters On Board (10 page)

"Wahh!" he cried, bursting into tears.
Snow White felt terrible. You could tell.
It was a long time before Andrew calmed down. Then we went on lots of rides in Fan-tasyland. But you know what?
My ghost wouldn't leave me alone. He came along with me on every one. Nobody could see him except me. I could feel my skin creeping all afternoon.
Dawn.
Guess what? Last night I ran into Parker in the hotel after dinner, and he asked if I wanted to spend our first day at the Magic Kingdom together. Why did he even bother asking? Of course I did! I got permission from Kristy's mom, and Parker and I met in the lobby at 10:00 the next morning.
I felt so grown-up I absolutely cannot describe it.
Claudia had helped me get dressed. She was in a great mood because her Secret Admirer had left her a stuffed animal at the door to our room during the night. Since she had brought along nearly every article of clothing that she owns, and I'd only brought along about one thirty-second of my wardrobe, I borrowed a few of her things. In fact, I borrowed the entire outfit. (We're just about the same size.) Parker would never know. I mean, he'd never know the outfit was borrowed, not that Claudia and I are the same size.
This is the outfit Claudia helped me to choose: a white tank top under lavender overalls, lavender push-down socks, lavender high-top sneakers, and a beaded Indian belt, which we looped droopily twice around my middle. In my hair we put lavender-and-white clips that looked like birds. I thought they were just any kind of bird, but Claudia swore up and down that they were birds of paradise. Who knows? (I think she was making that up.) Anyway, if I do say so myself (and I do), I looked pretty nice when I met Parker.
Parker wasn't looking bad, either. He was wearing this blue-and-white polo shirt, white tennis shorts, and loafers with no socks.
"I hope your shoes are comfortable," I said to him. "We're going to be walking around all day. They won't wear blisters on your heels or anything, will they?" "Nope," he replied. "Not these old things. They're ready to fall apart any second." "Well, as long as they can hold together one more day." "No problem. You got your ticket?" I held it up. "Yup," I replied. Everybody on the trip had a three-day pass to Disney World and Epcot Center.
"Great," said Parker. "Lefs go." There was free bus service from our hotel to the Magic Kingdom, so we waited in front of the hotel for a bus. The bus took us to the parking lot at Disney World, which was the biggest lot I have ever seen — except for the one at Disneyland in California. I'd already been to Disneyland ten or twelve times because I used to live not far from it. I had a feeling Disney World wasn't going to be all that different — but going to it with a boy would be.
The parking lot is so far away from the entrance to the Magic Kingdom that after you get off the bus, you have to get on a monorail that takes you to the gates. It seemed like forever before we were walking down Main Street in the Magic Kingdom, but we had left the hotel less than an hour earlier.
"Wow," said Parker, looking around in awe. "This is a whole town right in the park. And it's really only a little piece of Disney World." "Yeah," I agreed. Main Street in Disney World looked pretty much like Main Street in Disneyland.
"You don't seem too excited," said Parker vaguely.
I tried to be more enthusiastic. "Well!" I said. "What should we do first? There's a magic store! And there's a movie house!" "Uh, let's get to the rides," said Parker quickly. "Main Street looks like fun, but we can go to stores or the movies any time. Come on. Let's find Space Mountain. Ifs supposed to be really cool." "Okay," I said, but since I'd been on Space Mountain at Disneyland nine times, I couldn't work up to Parker's level of excitement.
We walked away from Main Street, turned right by Cinderella Castle, and entered To-morrowland. It was a sea of smooth, white, futuristic-looking buildings. And ahead of us loomed Space Mountain. Since it was still pretty early in the day, the line for the ride wasn't too long. But we did have to wait about twenty minutes.
At last, though, Parker and I were climbing into the cars. Were they called spacejets or something? I wasn't sure. Parker sat in front and I sat in back. An attendant strapped us in.
The car moved forward toward darkness. We could hear people above us — those who were already on the ride — screaming and shrieking.
"Hold on to your hat!" yelled Parker, and we were immediately jerked around a corner.
For the next three minutes, we got the ride of our lives. I swear, Space Mountain at Disney World is nothing like Space Mountain at Dis-neyland. I felt much more like I was on a roller coaster hurtling through outer space. A lot of the ride took place in pitch blackness. I couldn't even see if the track ahead went up or down. A few times, we were traveling so fast I thought my face was going to be permanently mashed in. Then we went down one hill that was so steep I was positive my stomach had fallen right out of my body.
I almost threw up.
We whizzed through a bright red tunnel. Parker couldn't turn around to look at me, but he waved over his shoulder.
Parker was waving, and I was having a hard time just keeping my breakfast down. We zoomed around some more, and several times I was sure our car was going to fly off the track and crash somewhere. But of course it didn't.
Still, by the time the ride was over, my knees were shaking, and Parker had to help me out of the spacejet.
"You okay?" he asked, looking worried.
I tried to come up with an answer that wasn't too disgusting. As we left the ride, traveling along a moving walkway, I decided not to say, "No, I'm about to puke all over you," or, "I'm fine, but how'd you like to see what I had for breakfast this morning?" Instead, I replied, "Well, um, could we get me a wheelchair?" Parker laughed. But he was concerned. When we left Space Mountain, we found a spot to sit down and Parker bought us each a soda. He made me wait until mine was sort of flat before I began sipping it. By the time I was finished, I felt lots better — but not good enough to try another ride.
We settled on strolling from store to store, even though Parker had been right: we could shop anywhere.
"But not for the perfect Disney World souvenir," I pointed out.
"That's true. Is that what we're doing?" "Don't you think we should? Who knows when we'll be back here again." So we started looking. The only problem was that I had just $8.60 left, and I didn't want some little pennant or sticker. I wanted something nice. I finally found the perfect thing in the gift shop in Cinderella Castle. It was a glass unicorn charm, and it cost only six dollars. After I'd paid for it, Parker helped me fasten it to this gold bracelet I was wearing. The bracelet used to belong to my great-aunt. It's an antique, and when Mom gave it to me, she said that whatever I did, I was to keep it in the family. I'm not sure how much money if s worth, but it has a lot of sentimental value. The charm looked great on it.
Anyway, then Parker bought a T-shirt for himself. (I guess boys don't care so much about souvenirs.) By that time, I was feeling fine again. In fact, I was hungry. As we walked through Frontierland looking for a place to eat, Parker suddenly stopped in his tracks and said, "Uh-oh." "What-oh?" "If s my family," Parker told me. "My dad, the stepmother, and the brats." I looked where Parker was pointing and saw a very nice-looking man and woman and two cute little boys.
"Parker!" called the man.
Parker groaned and led me over to his father. There were introductions all around. And then Mr. Harris said the last thing I'd expected to hear: "Patsy and I are exhausted. We'd love a little break. Would you mind watching the boys for an hour or so, Parker?" What could Parker say? We agreed to take the boys and meet Mr. and Mrs. Harris in an hour and a half at Cinderella Castle.
The Harrises left. Parker and I looked at the boys — Roddy, who was eight and Ricky, who was five. They didn't seem like brats to me.
Since Parker was acting like children were aliens from another planet, I said to the boys, "So what do you guys want to do?" "Could we go on Big Thunder Mountain Railroad?" asked Roddy. "Please?" "Sure," replied Parker.
"But it looks scary," said Ricky nervously.
Parker relaxed a little. "It won't be too bad," he said.
"Will you sit with me?" asked Ricky. He held his hand out to Parker.
I gave Parker a look that said, "These are the brats you've been complaining about?" Parker shrugged.
We got on line for the railroad, which I knew was another roller coaster, but not nearly as wild as Space Mountain. Since I hadn't eaten lunch yet, my stomach could handle it.
Ricky and Roddy screamed from the beginning of the ride until the end. They clutched our hands. They loved every second of it.
"Can we go again?" asked Roddy before we'd even gotten out of the mining car we'd been riding in.
"We could," Parker told him, "but don't you want to do something new? Have you been to Tom Sawyer Island yet?" (Parker looked like he was actually having fun with his stepbrothers.) "No," said Ricky.
"Well, let's go!" said Parker.
So we went. We took a raft over to the island, which turned out to be more like a park, and Ricky and Roddy had a blast. There were hills to climb and a cave to explore and a wobbly bridge made of barrels to walk across. But they had the most fun firing off these air guns at Fort Sam Clemens.
By the time we had to leave to meet Parker's father and stepmother, the four of us were laughing and talking happily — until I realized that my unicorn charm and bracelet were missing.
I burst into tears. Who knew where I'd lost them? And I could never replace the bracelet. Mom was going to kill me. Plus, I only had $2.50 left. Not enough for a new charm. So the day was sort of ruined. But I did feel an awful lot better when, returning to the hotel later, Parker reached into his pocket and handed me something wrapped in tissue paper.
I opened it. It was another unicorn.
I was so pleased and so surprised that I started to cry again.
Parker blushed.
And then he kissed me on the cheek.
Mallory.
I don't know about this spying business. See, the frustrating thing is that sometimes you see or overhear things you don't understand, can't figure out, or never learn anything more about. For instance, what about that stowaway I saw the first day we were aboard the Ocean Princess? I spent the entire trip waiting for someone to discover him and arrest him. But nothing like that happened at all. The most exciting part of the trip was the storm we had one night. A big wave rocked the ship, and Va-nessa's shoes flew through the air and hit Mary Anne on the head.
What had happened to the pretty girl who looked like she might be from New York? I'd never seen her again. I knew that her name was Alexandra Carmody, that she'd talked to Mary Anne a few times, that she'd said she was an orphan, an actress, a countess's niece or something, and that she was traveling alone, which was all pretty interesting. But I hadn't seen her.
And where was Spider from the Insects, for heaven's sake? You'd think I would have seen him again.
I did know something more about the little boy in the wheelchair and the old man. The boy, Marc Kubacki, had become a friend of Stacey, Claire, and Margo, and the man, Mr. Staples, had become a friend of Kristy Thomas. But I wanted to know about the others.
I got my chance for more spying the very first day we went to the Magic Kingdom. After spending the morning together as one big group — Mom, Dad, all my brothers and sisters, me, Mary Anne, and Stacey — my parents said we could split up when lunch was over. I begged to be allowed to go off on my own again.
"Your own?" said Dad, frowning. "You really want to go on rides by yourself? Wouldn't you have more fun with some of your brothers and sisters — or even your old dad?" I grinned. "Don't worry about me . . . Old Dad. I'll go on rides again with everyone to- • • & morrow. This afternoon I just want to look around. I might go shopping or to one of the shows. And the parade comes down Main Street in the afternoon. I don't want to miss that." "A parade?" exclaimed Claire. "There's going to be a parade? Oh, please, please, please can we go?" "Sure," replied my mother, "but you might like it better at night. They hold the parade at night, too. And later, fireworks go off." "Fireworks! Like on the Fourth of July? Oh, lef s go at night!" This time it was Margo who was so excited.
"Well, anyway," I interrupted, "so if s all right if I spend the afternoon on my own? I'm kind of looking forward to it." My parents exchanged a glance. At last Mom said, "I think if s all right. But we're going to meet at five o'clock at Cinderella Castle. And if you're not there, I'm going to be very worried." "I'll be there," I promised.
Mom smiled. "Lef s figure out how the rest of us are going to split up," she said. Then she made the mistake that's always made at least once whenever us Pikes are on vacation.
She said, "What does everyone want to do?" "Go on Pirates of the Caribbean," said Byron.
"Go on Mr. Toad's Wild Ride again," said Margo.
"Go on Space Mountain again," said Jordan.
"Go on the spinning teacups," said Nicky.
"Go on It's a Small World," said Vanessa.
"Ride the skyway," said Adam.
"Get an ice-cream cone," said Claire. "And a Mickey Mouse balloon." Mom looked at Dad. "Ride the merry-go-round," he said, and everybody laughed.
I left them behind, trying to sort out who was going to go with whom, taking into consideration things like: Mary Anne refused to ride the skyway because it was so high up, the spinning teacup ride would make Margo barf, etc.
As soon as I was safely out of sight of my family, I sat down on a bench and pulled out my spying notebook. As far as I knew, no one had looked in it or even found it. I uncapped a pen and started making some notes: Two old ladies walk by. They have blue hair.
A family walks by with a kid in a stroller. The kid is crying.
& Another family goes by. The little girl drops her ice-cream cone. Cries.
A big group of people goes by. They are wearing matching T-shirts. They are very loud (the people, not the shirts). I think the people are retarded. Having fun. Lots of smiles.
A family goes by. Both kids crying.
(How come all the kids are crying? I check my watch. It is naptime.) Two parents and a little girl come by. The girl's legs are in braces. She doesn't seem to care. She is saying, "Snow White's Adventure is the funnest ride here!" This was all very interesting, and it might help improve my writing skills and sharpen my powers of observation, but it wasn't true spying. At any rate, it wasn't the kind of spying Harriet would have done. Harriet would have dug up secrets. I was just watching crying children.