BSC060 - Mary Anne's Makeover - Martin, Ann M.

    Chapter 1.

    "I found a flummp caterpillar!" Carolyn Arnold shouted from the basement.

    Well, at least that was what it sounded like. It was hard to tell, because her twin sister Marilyn was practicing the piano loudly in the living room.

    I was in the kitchen. I should say I'd been banished to the kitchen by my two eight-year-old baby-sitting charges. Marilyn, the musician, needed to practice. Carolyn, the science whiz, was working away on some mysterious project. Me? I'd started my math homework, but a flummp caterpillar sounded much more interesting. So I called out, "You found a what?" When I got no answer, I repeated, "You found a what?" Carolyn came rushing into the kitchen. "Mary Aaaanne," she said with exasperation, "you know I can't hear you when Marilyn's playing." I bit my lip. Normally I would have reminded her that she'd been calling me, but I didn't. You see, I had just made a New Year's resolution: to be the best person I could be, in all possible ways. (Okay, I admit I may have gone overboard with that resolution, but at least I could try.) And that meant being the best possible baby-sitter, along with everything else.

    "Well, I'm glad you're here now," I said with kindness and patience. "Now, what did you say you found?" "A flux capacitator!" Carolyn replied, holding up a magnifying glass with the lens missing.

    "Uh-huh," I said. "What's that?" Carolyn rolled her eyes. Then she leaned over and lowered her voice to a whisper. "Didn't you see Back to the Future! The flux capacitator is the secret to ... you know . . ." She gestured, as if I were supposed to know what she meant.

    "What, time travel?" I asked.

    "Sshhhh!" Carolyn shot back. Then she whispered, "Yes!" "Urn, why are we whispering?" I asked.

    "Because," Carolyn explained, "if anyone finds out about this, they'll try to steal my idea. I want to be totally finished with it before I let people use it." As she scampered across the kitchen toward the basement door, I asked, "Use what, Carolyn?" She pulled the door open, looked over her shoulder with a big smile, and said, "My time machine!" Before I could reply, she was down the stairs.