Hey everyone! It's been a while since I've written anything, so I think this is probably not a shining example of my work. That said, I would appreciate any comments on how to improve it.
Thanks!
The Babysitter
“Terri! She’s here!”
I start up from under the covers, heart beating furiously. What? Who? Then I remember, and sink back down with a moan, pulling the fuzzy orange blanket back up to my chin. The sitter. I hear the screen door close behind her as she comes in.
Terri? Are you coming?”
“No.” I say it just quietly enough so she can pretend not to hear, all the way down the stairs. I’m sure our babysitter heard it, though. I sit up groggily and grab my robe, tripping over a Barbie left on the floor. One of her hands sticks me in the foot and I suck in my breath with pain, hurrying to the top of the stairs.
“This is Sarah.” Mom gestures to the girl standing next to her. I sum her up, trying not to be too obvious about it. She is blond, her pale lashes covered in so much mascara that I wonder how she can blink without her eyelids getting stuck together. She looks to be in high school, so at least six years older than me. I give her my best gap-toothed smile, trying to keep the ‘fresh meat’ look out of my eyes. Mom turns back to Sarah, now pretending I’m not there.
“She can have the muffin in the breadbox for breakfast, and watch some cartoons. My cell phone number is on the fridge, so call me if you have any questions or problems. I don’t think you will—she’s a pretty good kid most of the time. I’ll be back at lunch time. Hmm, let’s see. Anything else?”
“Is that your dog in the backyard?”
“Oh yeah, that’s Major. He should be fine on his own, just leave him in the backyard. He can’t get outside the fence unless you open the door.”
“Ok. Have fun at your meeting!”
“Thanks, I will. Bye, Terri!”
“G’bye.” I rub my eyes, trying to look sleepy. She closes the door behind her, and I start counting, marking off the seconds until she is too far away to hear anything. One one thousand… two one thousand…
“Hi Terri!” She gives me a bright smile. I don’t return it.
“Are you still sleepy? What do you want for breakfast?”
“I can make it myself.” I make my voice all surly.
“Ok, that’s fine. I’ll wait in the dining room for you to get dressed.”
She still seems so cheerful… I smile inside, but keep my face stony. “I always eat before I get dressed.”
“Well, I guess it’s fine if you want to do that, but I just thought while you’re up there it would make sense to do that.”
I don’t reply, pretending I haven’t heard and clumping down the steps. My foot is still a little tender from the Barbie puncture wound. She follows me quietly as I go to sit down on the table. I try not to glare too much. Why can’t Mom just figure out that I hate being left home? You'd think, after the endless procession of babysitters that were never available...
I stare down at the muffin she puts in front of me, sighing dramatically.
“Do I have to eat this?”
“No, but I’m not getting you anything else.”
“Why not?”
“Well, your mother said you should eat this.”
“But she always lets me eat whatever I want!” She is wavering. This is good.
“I—But she said…”
“Really! Yesterday I had pickles for breakfast.”
That is kind of a stretch, even for me, but I had just said what came off the top of my mind.
“Really. Do you want pickles now?” Her voice is almost sarcastic.
She is sitting across from me, pink cell phone in hand. Well, there is no backing down now. “Yes. I love pickles. My mom lets me eat them whenever I want.”
“How about you eat the muffin, then if you’re still hungry you can have some pickles.”
“How about I eat some pickles right now?”
“Not until you eat the muffin.”
I consider going and getting some pickles anyway, since there’s a good chance she won’t try to physically stop me, and I don’t have to listen to her. But my mom is probably still close enough to turn around if the sitter calls, which, though it wouldn’t be the end of the world, as Mom would say, would probably cause trouble for me later on. I take a bite of the muffin, which really isn’t all that bad, and lean forward to stare straight into into her face. She leans back a little.
“My mom always lets me do whatever I want.”
“Does she really?”
I don’t like her tone. “Yes.”
“Well, she’s not here right now, so I think I’m in charge.”
Well, you thought wrong… I think, but refrain from speaking aloud. I have already decided I don’t like this girl, the way she talks down to me as though I’m an idiot. Maybe other eight year olds are idiots—I don’t know. But none of the sitter’s I’ve had have been at all like able. I finish the muffin in a few more bites, then scoot the chair back loudly and walk upstairs.
“I’m going to get dressed.” I say loudly, and she turns and gives me a funny look.
“Ok.” Hmm… Maybe I should have waited until she asked, and then told her, to avoid being so suspicious. Oh well.
I thump down the hall as loudly as possible, then half-slam, half-close the bedroom door. Then I loudly begin to open drawers, occasionally swishing a hanger or dropping something on the floor. When I have been doing this for several minutes, I quietly slip out the door and into the hall, being careful not to step on the boards that creak. I can see her now, still sitting at the dining room table, leaning back in the chair and texting someone on the pink phone. I smile, then scoot on my stomach into my mom’s room, grabbing my coloring book off a shelf on the way there. Then I crawl under the bed and start to color.
After all, I’m going to be here for a while, so I might as well keep myself entertained.
It only takes her a few seconds to notice that the sounds have stopped, even though she seemed so distracted with her phone. I hear her coming up the stairs and stifle a giggle of excitement.
“Terri? Are you in there?”
She hesitates at my door, and then pulls it open. I watch through the open door to Mom’s room, covering my mouth with one hand. She walks out of my line of sight then, and I hear her sneakers squeaking down the hall.
“Terri? Can you hear me?”
Well, duh. Of course I’d be able to hear her, if I answered. I didn’t.
“Are you hiding? I thought we could play some kind of game.”
I hear her go downstairs and lock the doors. Maybe she’s even dumber than she looks, since the locks would hardly stop me if I tried to get outside. She’s still calling my name, searching through the house.
She doesn’t sound so friendly anymore.
“Terri! This isn’t funny! I’m getting really worried!”
Again, no duh.
“I’m going to call the police!”
Hmm. I could, of course, stay here until she does exactly that, especially because I don’t really think she will, but it isn’t worth the trouble I would be in. So, I sigh, but then crawl out from under the bed. She isn’t any fun.
“I’m right here!” I jump out almost from right in front of her. She jumps, lets out a little scream, and then steps back a little.
“Where were you? Didn’t you hear me calling?”
“Nope.” I give her an elaborate shrug and then push past her and walk down the hall. I hear her sigh behind me, then say, “So, what do you want to do?”
I think for a minute. “Play outside.”
“But you’re not even dressed yet!”
“Mom doesn’t care if I go outside in my pajamas.” Actually, I don't think Mom would care either way at all, but Sarah seems to think this would be a horrible embarrassment.
She looks a little nervous. “Are you sure?”
“Oh yeah. Just, we can’t go through the back yard, because Major is vicious and he bites everybody.”
That last bit was a stroke of genius on my part, having come up with it on the spot. She looks definitely scared now.
“Really? Your mom didn’t tell me.”
“Yeah, that’s because she doesn’t tell anybody. She’s afraid somebody will report us. Once he bit my cousin Paul, on the leg, and he had to get stitches.”
“How about we play a board game?”
I raise one eyebrow. “Why would I want to do that?”
“It’s fun. Come on, I’ll show you.”
“No, I want to go outside.”
She pauses for a minute, and then gives in. I hold back another sigh, wishing she weren’t quite so easy to manipulate. It might be more fun. Mom must be paying her an awful lot.
She waits on the front porch, still texting, while I run around to the garage in back and get out some chalk. I also grab my magnifying glass, a small plan starting to form in my head. Then I open Major’s gate and trot back to the front. In a few seconds, he comes barreling around the corner, barking deep in his chest. Sarah takes one look at him and her face goes white, then she hurriedly goes inside the house. I laugh, and then grab his collar, letting him lick my face.
“How did he get out?” She asks, her voice almost an octave higher than usual.
“I dunno. He does that all the time.”
“Will he bite you if you put him back inside?”
“Maybe.”
She seems at a loss. I sit on the sidewalk with my back to her, making a twig smoke with the magnifying glass. I don’t think she can see me, but in a few minutes she’s talking again.
“Catch him! Before he runs away!” I look up casually. In fact, he is already all the way across the street, sniffing at bushes and the like, but I know he won’t go far.
“You catch him!”
“Will he bite me?”
“Probably.”
She is out on the front porch now, still looking rather pale. Not an animal person, I guess.
“What are you doing?”
“Playing.”
“With what?”
“Chalk.”
“Oh. What are you making?”
“A fire.”
“What?”
“I said… um, a tire.”
“A tire?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
I’m getting tired of this endless conversation, so I turn just slightly so she can see what I’m doing.
“Is that a magnifying glass?”
“No.”
She is outside now, apparently having forgotten about my vicious dog. “Give that to me now.”
“No.”
“Terri, I’m going to have to tell your mother about this.”
Yeah right, like you would do that and look like a horrible babysitter. Weakest threat in the book.
“I don’t care.”
Next she tries to reason with me.
“If you accidentally make a fire, it could burn the whole yard up.”
Accidentally? I snort, then roll my eyes and don’t say anything.
“Terri, you really need to stop that.”
The leaf is almost in flame now, and I have no intention of stopping. Now Major comes over again, and Sarah looks a little nervous, but this time she holds her ground. She lets him sniff her hand.
“He’s not really vicious at all, is he?”
Darn. “Careful, he’s really unpredictable. One second he’ll be wagging his tail, and then he’ll bite your arm off.”
“Nice try, Terri. How about we go have lunch now.”
“I just had breakfast.”
“That was almost two hours ago.”
Really? That means I’m running out of time. I don’t seem to have really gotten to her yet. “Ok, we’ll have lunch now.”
We go back inside, and she makes me a peanut butter sandwich, of course neglecting to remove the crusts. I eat about half of it, and then start throwing pieces of it at her when she’s not looking.
“Terri? Stop throwing food. I don’t like it.”
“Ok.”
I wait until she isn’t looking and throw another piece, this time a slightly chewed one. It lands on her back, making a sloppy thunk.
“Teresa! You’re eight years old. That’s way too old to be throwing food, besides, it’s gross.”
She does have a point, but I’m past listening to anything she says. I don’t wait as long this time before throwing the next piece, laughing a little. She’s still busy cleaning the first one off, her mascara-encrusted eyes crinkling up in anger.
Apparently she’s one of those people that have to have perfectly clean, dry clothes. Perfect.
While she’s distracted, I grab her phone off the table and run into the bathroom.
“Teresa?”
I hate being called by my full name.
“What?”
“Where did you go?”
“Bathroom.”
“Oh, ok. Where’s my phone?”
“Right here.”
“Can I have it?”
“If you come and get it.”
I hear her footsteps, then she taps on the door. “I need that phone, Terri. Can I come in?”
“Door’s not locked.”
I drop her phone in the toilet just before she opens the door. Then I spray her full in the face with the shower nozzle, hosing her off completely for good measure. She shrieks loudly, and then grabs the nozzle and turns it off. I don’t resist as she grabs my arm and drags me to the stairs.
“You are going to sit there… for ten minutes, and I want you to think about what you did. That wasn’t….” She growls, apparently too angry to get the words out right. “See? I’m all wet now, and I’m going to have to go home soon. Would you like it if I did that to you?”
“Of course not.” I smile sweetly.
“Now, I want you to give me my phone bag. It’s worth a lot of money, and I don’t want to have to replace it.”
“I don’t have it.”
“Where is it, then?”
I shrug, and then sit serenely while she searches for it all over the house, wearing my best angelic expression and imagining her phone bobbing in the toilet. She never finds it, my mom coming in the door while I’m still on the stairs.
“Hi!”
“Hi Mommy! I jump up and run to her, giving her a giant hug.
“Where’s Sarah?”
“She’s in the spare bedroom texting. She’s been there almost the whole time.”
Sarah comes out now, and while the wet spots on her shirt have faded enough so that my mom can’t see them, I can tell her jeans are still wet by the way she moves, sorta gingerly, spreading them apart. That should show her.
“So, how’d everything go?”
“Just… fine, but I think I misplaced my cell phone. It’s pink, and it slides like this?” She gestures with her hands and then glares at me. Mom somehow misses this and goes for her purse, pulling out her wallet.
“Oh, ok, we’ll look for it.”
Before she can say anything else, I jump up and run for the bathroom, gingerly fishing her phone out of the water. Good thing I'm not squeamish, 'cus I definitely don't want her coming back for it. I push a button, but it is dead. Just as quickly, I run back, handing it to her. She wipes it off on her still-damp hoodie, giving me a fake smile. Saying nothing, she waits for my mom.
Getting her wallet out, my mom asks again, “So, how’d everything go? Did you have fun?”
“Oh yes!” I chime in, then run over to Sarah and give her a big hug, avoiding the wettest spots. “I want Sarah to come back all the time!”
My mom smiles a little at that, and then opens her wallet to pay Sarah. I watch, leaning against the wall, as she takes the money and heads for the door, perhaps a little faster than normal. I catch a glimpse of a jelly and bread stain on the back of her shirt and grin. She won’t be back.
.
Thanks!
