Nanny X (4 page)

Stinky Malloy lived over on Hummel Street. He was in my grade at Watson Elementary, but he looked older because he kept having growth spurts. Sometimes you couldn't see his eyes because his bangs needed cutting.

I told her that everyone in our school knew Stinky because when he was in third grade he signed up our class to collect litter along Main Street. Only none of the parents wanted their children picking up litter along Main Street because of the traffic. So then the parents had to pick up all of the litter themselves.

The other reason Stinky Malloy was famous was because last summer he was walking his dog, Edgar, when Edgar discovered a skunk. The skunk got mad and sprayed like crazy. Edgar got out of the way, but Stinky didn't. He was so stinky after that skunk, even his freckles smelled bad. Everyone kept calling him “Stinky” even after he'd had three baths and washed his hair with tomato juice. His real name was Daniel. That was the name the police officers would probably book him under. Also he was the most honest kid I knew.

“He has a nanny named Boris,” I told Nanny X. Boris.
He
could fix things. I looked around, but I didn't see him anywhere, and Boris is hard to miss; he's at least six foot three. “They eat a lot of lentils,” I added.

“Ali!” Stinky called as Chief Grummel opened the door to the squad car. “Find Boris and tell him where I am. Please?” I looked at Nanny X. She nodded, just once.

“Don't worry,” I called. “We'll help you.”

Now we were supposed to save more than the park. Now we were supposed to save Stinky Malloy.

I've never seen anybody taken to jail in real life before. They put Stinky in handcuffs, just like they do on TV. Plus, they made him sit in the back of the police car behind that cage thing, which made it look like he was
already
in jail.

I started to say something to Ali, but even her hair looked dark and angry, so I tugged on Nanny X's motorcycle jacket instead. “Now what?” I said.

“You made a promise to Daniel, correct?” It took me a second to remember that Daniel was really Stinky.

“We're supposed to find Boris,” I said.

“Daniel will get a phone call, once he reaches police headquarters, but in this case I think it would be best if his family had a head start. I will contact the nanny.”

“You don't even know Boris's last name,” Ali said, but Nanny X walked away from us and pulled out that diaper again. I wondered if she talked to bananas, too. Or toilets.

Ali picked up Eliza. What if the police came back and took us away, too, because we were friends with Stinky? What if they thought we were all in on it?

When Nanny X came back, she announced: “I contacted Boris. You will be happy to know that he is already en route to the station, along with Daniel's mother.”

“Contacted him
how
?” Ali said. “With that diaper? With your hat?”

“Yeah,” I said. “How?”

“We are wasting time,” Nanny X said. “We should be looking for clues.”

“Do we get any clues about you?” Ali asked, not politely, but not impolitely, either. “Like are you even a real nanny?” Except for that last part. Ali made her eyes small and crossed her arms. “What were you doing with that diaper? How did you know about Yeti's fleas?”

Nanny X almost smiled. “You'd make a good lawyer, Alison,” she said. “Speaking of lawyers—”

“Mom!” I shouted. “Our mom's a lawyer! She can get Stinky out of jail.”

“She's an
immigration
lawyer,” Ali said in her S.S. voice. “Not a get-Stinky-out-of-jail lawyer.”

“So?” I said. “She's a
good
lawyer.” Maybe she hadn't been doing it much lately, but she could help Stinky. I knew she could.

“Call her,” Nanny X said. I waited for her to give me the diaper, which would have been zero help and 100 percent gross, but she handed me an actual cell phone. I dialed my mom's new number, which she made us memorize in case of emergencies. I thought about telling my mom about our nanny talking to the diaper, but it wasn't really dangerous, and if I did that, she might forget about helping Stinky, so I just told her the Stinky part.

“Are you sure?” she said. “Are you sure that's what happened?”

I handed the phone to Nanny X. “That's what happened,” she told my mother. “Jake Z gave you a very precise account.” She looked like she wanted to say something else, but she didn't. I put the phone back against my ear.

“They can't do that,” Mom said. “In a squad car? For Pete's sake. I'll make some calls. Try not to worry, Jakey, okay? I know it's upsetting, but try to focus on something else. Are you getting along with your sisters?”

She said sister
s
, meaning both of them, but I knew which one she really meant. “Sure,” I said.

“You take care of each other,” she said.

“We will.” I handed the phone back to Nanny X. “She's making some calls,” I said.

“Good,” she said. “Now let's get to work. Search the trees. Search the bushes. Search everywhere.”

“What are we looking for?”

“Well, for one thing, we're looking for whatever
really
hit the mayor,” said Nanny X. “Because something tells me it wasn't that rock your friend Daniel was carrying. And as always, we are seeking anything out of the ordinary. You should always be alert for anything out of the ordinary.”

I wasn't sure what we would find that was out of the ordinary (besides Nanny X), but I started looking around, plus, so did Yeti. He pricked up his ears and sniffed the ground, as if he understood exactly what Nanny X was telling us to do.

Ali didn't search with us. She just stood there with her arms crossed, glaring at Nanny X.

“Yes?” Nanny X said.

“I want to know what's going on.”

“So do I,” said Nanny X.

“No,” Ali said. “I mean I want to know what's going on about
you
.”

Nanny X raised an eyebrow over her sunglasses. Ali raised one, too.

“I will tell you,” Nanny X said finally, “if you can promise not to tell anyone else. And only because we must work together quickly if we're going to help Daniel, this park, and this town.”

“I promise,” I said.

“I need to hear it first,” said Ali. Nanny X took off her sunglasses. Then she spoke, more slowly than she'd spoken all day.

“What does the word ‘NAP' mean to you?”

“We don't take naps anymore,” I said. “Only Eliza does.”

“Not ‘nap' ” said Nanny X. She loaded our backpacks into the bottom part of Eliza's stroller and strapped Eliza into the seat part.
“NAP
. N.A.P.”

“Oh!” I said. “That's different.”

Washington, D.C., is full of agencies with initials. I had a lot of them memorized, like NDIIPP (National Digital Information Infrastructure Preservation Program) and NHDSC (National Hot Dog and Sausage Council). When I came across initials I didn't recognize, I liked to guess what they stood for before I found out for real. I'd seen NAP in the news a few times: NAP Nabs Crime Ring; NAP Saves Prime Minister. They were my favorite kind of initials, because they were an acronym, which meant you could put them together and make a word. But for some weirdo reason, I'd never been able to learn what the initials stood for. The news never said, plus I'd checked the phone book, plus the Internet. Nothing.

But Nanny X knew.

“It's a secret organization,” she explained. “Classified. For most of the world, NAP is all they need to know. But it actually stands for Nanny Action Patrol.”

Ali made a snorting sound, like a horse with a dragonfly up its nose. I didn't snort. I knew what NAP could do. If our nanny was a member of NAP, it didn't matter if she talked to diapers or even if she put anchovies in our lunch boxes. If our nanny was a member of NAP, she was
tundra
cool. Plus, things were about to become very un-boring.

“I've been a member of NAP for three years,” our nanny said, “ever since I retired from another undercover organization whose initials I'm not at liberty to share.” She took off her hat and fanned herself. “Our headquarters was not too far from here, but when I reached retirement age they told me to go back to New York. Or try Florida, they said. Find a nice place in Boca. Relax. Play mahjong. Watch the waves. Well, the only game I know how to play is poker. I'd spent my whole life dealing with crime waves, and now they were telling me to go sit in the sand and watch the ocean. Ha! Thanks but no thanks, I told them. And that's when I joined NAP. They have many younger agents, of course, but the people at NAP weren't afraid of someone with a little experience.”

“You're a secret agent!” I shouted. A secret agent was at the very top of my list of what would make a perfect nanny, right behind professional baseball player.

“Yeah, right,” muttered Ali, still acting like a Super Snot.

Nanny X sounded like she was telling the truth. I wanted her to be. Because if she was, maybe we really could help Stinky. And the park. And who knew what else?

“Shhhh. Now that you know, I'm a not-so-secret agent,” said Nanny X. “Actually, I prefer the term
special
agent. But I'm a nanny, too, I promise you. I've had all of the requisite courses in child care, nutrition, and CPR. We find it easier to carry out our investigations while working as nannies. It's an excellent cover, especially around here. A lot of important people come through the capital area, and we
need to keep an eye on some of them. You'd be surprised at how much espionage equipment we can squeeze into a little diaper bag. That way we're not so conspicuous.”

“Conspicuous” means you stand out. “Inconspicuous” is when you don't. Both of those were reading connection words last month, but our nanny didn't seem like she knew how to be inconspicuous, even if she did work for an undercover organization. I could help her out with that part, though. My friend Ethan and I had been practicing being inconspicuous in case of a zombie invasion. The people zombies always go after first are the ones who stand out. Plus people who are slow.

“Is it dangerous for the kids?” I asked. What I meant was:
us
. I wasn't really scared or anything, as long as it was daylight, but it seemed like the sort of question you should ask when your nanny turns out to be a special agent.

“It can be,” said Nanny X. “I won't lie to you. That's why we carefully screen our families to make sure the children involved have certain abilities. That means bravery in the face of danger, and it also means wits to help them escape danger should the situation arise. Of course we do our best to make sure that the situation doesn't arise; I daresay a good number of our families are never aware there's a member of NAP working in their household. But sometimes these things can't be helped.”

“And Ali and me? We have these certain abilities?” I crossed my fingers.

“But of course,” said Nanny X. “Even Eliza has talents, in her own way. I've been watching you for some time, and I think you have a great many abilities. Can you tell me what they are?”

“Baseball,” I said, right off the bat. “Plus, I'm the only member of our family who can speak like Donald Duck.”

“I'm sure there will be times when your athleticism will
come in handy,” Nanny X agreed. “And many of our best agents can speak other languages. What else?”

Sometimes Ethan and I rewrote nursery rhymes to include words like “fart,” but I wasn't sure that counted.

“Jake's honest,” Ali said. I was glad to hear her saying something. I couldn't believe it was actually something
nice
. “He didn't freak out that time he got staples in his head. And I guess he's a pretty good listener.”

“Bravo,” Nanny X said. “And what about you, Ali? What are your talents?”

“Not that any of this is real,” Ali said, “but I do have excellent powers of persuasion.” It's true. Like, she can get me to collect all of the garbage when it's not even my turn.

“What else?” said Nanny X.

Ali shrugged and went back to being all glary again.

“Ali can tie knots,” I said. “And she can untie them. Plus, she notices things. Like a scientist.” If Ali was being nice, I could be nice, too.

“Bravo again,” said Nanny X. “We need people who are observant. Observant people are good at spotting things that are out of the ordinary. They're good at spotting
clues
. For instance, what can you tell me about the rock that hit the mayor, Alison?”

Ali rolled her eyes, but I think at least a little part of her wanted to believe Nanny X was a real special agent. The old-days Ali would have believed it. “Humor me,” said Nanny X.

“It was a rock,” Ali said.

Nanny X sighed. “I suppose that's a start.”