Jessi's Secret Language (6 page)

The secret language sure was catching on, and I couldn't have been happier. The more kids who learned it, even just a few words of it, the more kids Matt could “talk” to. I was really happy about Claudia's notebook entry. Of course, I knew before I read the entry that Claudia was teaching the secret language to Kristy's little brother, stepbrother, and stepsister. That was because Claudia and Karen kept calling me and asking me to look
up things in the sign language dictionary. But, as usual, I'm getting ahead of myself. Let me start back at the beginning of the evening when Claudia arrived at Kristy's house.

Claudia's mother dropped her off at the Brewer mansion at seven o'clock. Claudia rang the bell, and it was answered by Karen Brewer, Kristy's stepsister. Kristy loves her stepbrother and stepsister just as much as if they were her real brother and sister. She wishes she could see them more often. But Karen and Andrew mostly live with their mother and stepfather. They only stay at their father's house every other weekend, every other holiday, and for two weeks during the summer.

Karen is this bouncy, bold little girl who loves to scare people (including herself) with stories about witches and ghosts. She's even convinced that her father's next-door neighbor, Mrs. Porter, is actually a witch named Morbidda Destiny. And she's sure that a ghost named Ben Brewer (some old ancestor of hers, I guess) haunts the third floor of her father's house.

Andrew, on the other hand, is shy and quiet. Karen often scares him, although she doesn't mean to. Usually, she's very protective of him, and he adores her.

That night, Claudia was going to be sitting for Karen, Andrew, and David Michael, Kristy's seven-year-old brother. Claudia arrived just as Kristy, Sam, and Charlie were running out the door to the Stoneybrook High
versus
Mercer High basketball game.

“Bye, Kristy! Hi, Karen!” said Claudia.

“Bye!” called Kristy as the door slammed behind her.

“Hi,” said Karen. “I'm going to be very busy tonight. There's a ghost party on the third floor.”

“And you're going to it?” asked Claudia, trying to look serious.

“Are you kidding?” replied Karen. “That would be crazy. But I'm in charge of refreshments. All night it's going to be my job to take food to the bottom of the third-floor stairs and leave it there for the ghosts.”

“What are you going to feed them?”

“Ghost pâté,” replied Karen. “It's really the only thing for a ghost party.”

“Well, I'm sure they'll appreciate it,” said Claudia.

“Hi, Claudia,” spoke up another voice. It was Kristy's mother, the new Mrs. Brewer. “Thanks for coming. Mr. Brewer and I will be home by ten-thirty. And the kids should go to bed at nine.”

“Aw,
Elizabeth
,” complained Karen. “Andrew's younger than me. He should go to bed before I do.”

“But it's Friday, honey,” Mrs. Brewer pointed out. “He can stay up a little later.”

“Then
I
get to stay up even later than he does.”

Kristy's mother sighed. “All right. Claudia, Andrew's bedtime is nine o'clock, Karen's is nine-fifteen, and David Michael's is nine-thirty.”

“Goody!” cried Karen, jumping up and down. “Thank you!” Claudia thought Karen might complain about David Michael's bedtime, but she didn't. Fair was fair.

“Now,” Mrs. Brewer went on, “Andrew is getting over tonsillitis and needs a spoonful of liquid penicillin before he goes to bed. The bottle is in the kitchen, in the cabinet next to the refrigerator.”

“Okay,” Claudia replied.

“I guess that's it. You know where the emergency numbers are. And Mr. Brewer and I will just be across the street at the Papadakises'.”

The Brewers left, and Karen and Claudia went upstairs to the big playroom, where they found Andrew and David Michael building a space station out of Legos and Tinker Toys.

“Hi, guys,” Claudia greeted the boys.

“Hi!” they replied.

“Want to help us?” asked Andrew.

“Sure.” Claudia sat down in front of the space station.

“Well,” said Karen, “I guess I better go.”

“Go where?” asked Claudia vaguely, sifting through a pile of Legos.

“Down to the kitchen, then up to the ghosts.”

“Down to the kitchen?” Claudia repeated. “For real food?”

“Sure. That's where the ghost pâté is.”

“What's ghost pâté?” asked Andrew nervously.

“Don't worry about it,” David Michael told him. “Karen's just pretending again.”

“Am not!” cried Karen.

“Are too!”

“Hold it! Hold it!” said Claudia. (Silence.) “Karen, use pretend food, okay? You don't need to go down to the kitchen.”

There were, Claudia thought, a few problems with living in a house as big as the Brewers'. For instance, it was easy for the kids to get out of ear-shot in the house, and Claudia didn't like that. And when she sat downstairs at night waiting for the Brewers to come home, she sometimes felt terrified.

Then Claudia added, “And Andrew, don't worry. It really is just a game.”

“Is not!” said Karen indignantly. She stooped down, pretended to pick something up, and walked out of the room calling, “Here comes the pâté!”

When she returned, Claudia decided that it might be a good idea to get Karen's mind off the ghost party. First she tried to interest her in the boys' space station. When that didn't work, she said in a hushed, excited-sounding voice, “How would you guys like to learn a secret language?”

“Huh?” replied Andrew and David Michael. They didn't look up from their work.

But Karen said, “A secret language? What do you mean?”

“I,” Claudia began, “can show you how to talk without making any sounds at all. Without even opening your mouth.”

Now she had captured even the boys' attention. “That's impossible,” said David Michael.

“No, it isn't.” Claudia made the sign for
dance
, which I had shown the members of the Baby-sitters Club. “That means
dance
,” she informed them.

She showed them three other signs. “Some deaf people,” she told the kids, “know thousands of signs. They can have whole conversations with their hands.”

“Is there a sign for
ghost
?” asked Karen.

“Probably,” Claudia replied. “But I don't know what it is.”

“Oh.” Karen looked disappointed.

“I know how we can find out, though,” Claudia said, brightening. “We'll call Jessi Ramsey. She has a dictionary with all the signs in it. She can look up
ghost
.”

The four of them trooped into the hallway, and Claudia dialed my number. Becca answered the phone and called me into our kitchen. When Claudia had explained what was going on, I said, “Just a sec. I'll go get the book.”

I ran to my room, grabbed the dictionary off my desk, and tried to look up
ghost
as I was running back to the kitchen. “Here it is!” I exclaimed. (I was pleased to be able to help Claudia. Sometimes Mal and I feel like the babies of the Baby-sitters Club, since we're younger and have been members for such a short time.) “There
is
a sign for
ghost
. Only it's going to be kind of hard to describe.”

I did my best.

Then Karen wanted the sign for
witch
. That one was almost impossible to explain over the phone. After
witch
, she wanted
cat
,
storm
,
night
, and
black
.

I thought that was the end of things, but no sooner had I put the dictionary away than the phone rang again. This time it was Karen herself.

“I forgot the sign for
night
,” she said.

I tried to explain it again.

“And is there a sign for
afraid
?”

“What are you going to do?” I asked Karen. “Sign a ghost story?”

“Yes,” she replied seriously.

I smiled. “Okay.” (The sign for
afraid
is covering your heart in fear with both hands. I love it, I just love it.)

Meanwhile, back at Kristy's house, Karen was trying to sign her ghost story. She didn't know nearly enough words, though, and soon gave up.

“Let's make ourselves a snack and then you guys will have to start getting ready for bed,” Claudia told the kids.

“What kind of snack?” asked Karen.

“Whatever you want,” Claudia replied. “But if you have the right ingredients, I'll fix
you
ghost pâté.”

Luckily, Claudia found what she needed — crackers and liverwurst. She spread a saltine with liverwurst and handed it to Karen. “There you go,” she said. “Ghost pâté.”

“Yick,” said Andrew.

But Karen ate her snack eagerly. “
Thank
you, Claudia,” she said several times, glad that someone was taking her game seriously.

When the snacks were eaten and the kitchen was clean, Claudia gave Andrew his medicine, and then took the kids back upstairs. “Time to get ready for bed now,” she said. “Andrew, you first.”

While she was giving Andrew a hand, she thought she heard Karen on the phone in the hall, but she didn't think anything of it. Andrew's room was a mess and he couldn't find his pajamas. Then he got worried about the ghost party again.

“Honest. It's not real,” Claudia told him. “Karen made it all up.”

“Then why did you make the ghost pâté?” he asked.

Oops.

“That was just silly,” said Claudia. “It was pretend.”

Andrew found his pajamas, put them on, and went into the bathroom to brush his teeth. When he returned, he climbed into bed.

“I won't be able to fall asleep,” he announced. “I'm scared.”

“Sure you will,” Claudia told him. “You'll fall asleep. Count something, like sheep.”

“I'll have to count ghosts,” Andrew said.

“Well, at least count friendly ones. There
are
friendly ghosts, you know.”

“There are?”

“Yup.”

“How do you tell them from the spooky ones?”

“The friendly ones are the ones who smile and call, ‘Hi, Andrew!' The spooky ones just say, ‘BOO!'”

“Oh.”

“Call me if you need me.”

“Okay. Night, Claudia.”

“Night, Andrew.”

Click.
Light off.

Creak.
Door open a crack.

Claudia tiptoed down the hall to Karen's room, where she found her sitting on her bed holding Tickly, her blanket, in one hand, and Moosie, her stuffed cat, in the other.

“We have time for a story, don't we, Claudia?” she said. “We have until nine-fifteen. Fifteen more minutes.”

“Right,” replied Claudia. “What do you want to hear?” And then she went on in a rush, “How about
The Cat in the Hat
?” She suggested that because Karen always suggests
The Witch Next Door
or one of her other witch stories, and Claudia had had enough ghost and witch tales for one night.

“Okay,” agreed Karen.

So they read the book, lying side by side on Karen's bed.

When they were finished, Claudia returned the book to its shelf while Karen snuggled under the covers next to Moosie and Tickly.

“Good-night,” said Claudia.

Karen didn't say anything, but she pulled her arms out from under the covers. She signed something to Claudia.

“What was that?” asked Claudia.

“It was
good-night
! I called Jessi again while you were helping Andrew get ready for bed.”

Claudia signed
good-night
back to Karen.

Then Karen made another sign. “I love you,” she said.

Claudia smiled and signed back. She switched on Karen's nightlight and quietly left the room, remembering to crack her door open like Andrew's.

Then she tiptoed down the hall to David Michael's room, thinking that signing was the nicest language she had ever seen.

I was baby-sitting regularly at the Braddocks' now. I loved it, but my schedule was tough. On Tuesday and Friday I went to my dance class and sometimes stayed later than usual, trying to keep in shape for rehearsals. Rehearsals were held on the weekends, and often on Thursday as well, which
had
been my only free afternoon of the week. But every Monday and Wednesday afternoon I went directly from school to Matt and Haley's house. Then Mrs. Braddock would leave for her part-time job. She was working with deaf adults at the Stoneybrook Community Center.

The Braddocks and I had a routine. I would reach their house at three o'clock, just a few minutes after Haley got home from Stoneybrook Elementary. Then Mrs. Braddock would leave and I would fix a snack for Haley and me. After we'd eaten, we'd sit on the front stoop and wait for Matt's bus to drop him off. Then
Matt
would
eat a snack, and when
he
was finished we'd go outside to play. We'd play with the Pikes, the Barretts, and sometimes even Jenny Prezzioso, who seemed to accept Matt a little more than she had the first time she'd met him. On rainy days we had to stay in, of course, but we invited kids over, or went to somebody else's house. We were always with other kids, and Matt and Haley were eating it up.

Plus, the secret language was spreading fast. Learning signs was a game, and the kids, especially Vanessa and Nicky Pike, learned them quickly. This was great, because Vanessa and Haley were getting to be friends, and Nicky, Matt, and Buddy Barrett were getting to be friends, too. They often needed Haley (or me) to translate for them, but the friendship was growing anyway.

One day, the weather was warmer than usual.

“Summer!” Matt signed to me excitedly. He crooked his right index finger and imitated somebody wiping a hot forehead.

I smiled at him. It wasn't summer, though, so I signed, “It
feels
like summer.”

Matt nodded. He had just finished his snack and we were heading outside to play. We opened the front door and found the Pike triplets, Buddy Barrett, and Nicky crossing the Braddocks' lawn.

“Hi!” Matt waved eagerly.

The boys waved back.

“Where's Vanessa?” Haley called.

“She had to go to the dentist,” Nicky answered.

“Oh.” Haley sounded disappointed.

The boys began a game of six-person baseball. They didn't need to talk much to play that.

Haley and I sat down on the steps and watched them.

Buddy hit the ball out into the street, ran the bases, and jumped up and down as if he'd scored a home run.

“No fair!” Nicky shouted angrily.

“The ball was out!” Matt added.

I was about to remind the boys to sign when suddenly they remembered on their own. Nicky signed, “No fair!”, Matt signed “The ball was out,” and then Jordan jumped in.

“No!” he signed. “Safe.”

Haley and I looked at each other.

“They're not bothering to talk at
all
,” said Haley, awed.

“Nope,” I replied. “They've learned every sign that could possibly have anything to do with football or baseball.”

Haley grinned. “It's a good thing Matt plays
sports so well. If he didn't, I don't know what I'd do.”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“Well, it's sure helped him make friends here.”

“I know,” I said, “and that's great. But what does that have to do with you? You said if
he
wasn't good at sports, you didn't know what
you'd
do.”

“I have to help him,” Haley said simply. “I have to watch out for him.”

“You do? I'm the baby-sitter,” I teased.

Haley smiled. Then her smile faded and she looked sort of sad. “You're not Matt's sister,” she told me.

“No, I'm not.”

“You don't know what it's like.”

“That's true…. What
is
it like?”

“You have to stand up for him when kids tease him. But while you're doing it, you wish you weren't.”

“How come?”

“Because it makes you as weird as Matt. And that makes you hate Matt sometimes.” Haley paused and corrected herself. “Well, not hate him. But … oh, what's the word?”

“Resent?” I suggested. “You resent Matt?”

“Yeah.” Haley looked ashamed.

“Don't feel bad about it,” I said. “I resent my brother and sister sometimes, too. Like when Mama asks me to give Squirt a bath or something and I want to practice my ballet.”

Haley nodded. “But your brother and sister aren't deaf.”

“So? Why should you have to be a perfect person just because your brother
is
deaf?” I asked Haley. “That doesn't make any sense to me. Matt's not special, he's just different.”

“He is too special!” cried Haley.

I smiled. “I'm glad you think so. What I meant was that basically, Matt's like most other seven-year-old boys. Except that he's deaf and you have to use sign language to talk to him. But look. Look at Matt right now.”

Matt, Nicky, and Adam were jumping up and down because their team had earned another run. Matt stuck his fist in the air like a proud athlete. Nicky and Adam imitated him.

Haley couldn't help grinning. “I really love him,” she said. “And I'm proud of him. He's smart, he works hard, and even though he's different, he tries to make himself as
not
different as possible. And he's only seven! But, boy, sometimes I wish … I know this is really, really awful, Jessi,
but I guess I can tell you. I've never told anyone else, though.”

“What?” I asked her.

“Sometimes I wish he'd never been born.”

I was a little surprised at what Haley had said, but when I thought about it, it made sense. I tried to be matter-of-fact. After all, her feelings were her feelings. They didn't make her a bad or a good person. Still, she had surprised me.

“Well,” I said slowly, “I can understand that. I really can. I've wished the same thing sometimes about Becca and Squirt. More with Becca, maybe, since she's so close to my age. But I've felt it with Squirt, too. Sometimes I think, boy, wouldn't it be great to be an only child. I'd have Mom and Dad all to myself, and no one would ever interrupt me while I was practicing or trying to do my homework, and no one would ever snoop in my room or take my things without asking. But then I think, if I didn't have Becca, who could I giggle with late at night? And who could I complain to? Sometimes the kids at school tease me because I'm black, and
no one
knows how that feels the way Becca does.”

Haley nodded thoughtfully. “I guess you do understand,” she told me. (She sounded very grateful.) “You know, all I really want is a family
who talks with their mouths, not their hands. A little brother who doesn't make wild-animal noises, who walks to Stoneybrook Elementary instead of riding that dumb van to Stamford everyday.”

“Who doesn't embarrass you,” I added.

“Right. And then sometimes … sometimes I don't know what I'd do without him. Look at this.” Haley reached under her blouse and pulled out a gold chain. Hanging from it was a wobbly-looking round pendant painted red with an H scratched in it. You could tell the pendant had been made from clay. “Matt made this for me in art class,” she said. “He gave it to me for Christmas last year. I always wear it. This is really weird but, like, I'll be totally mad at Matt for embarrassing me or something, and then I'll remember the necklace and I can't feel mad at him at all. I'll just want to, you know, protect him and stuff.”

I did know. “Yup,” I said. “Once I was mad because Becca got sick and Mama made me miss a ballet class to watch Squirt while she took care of Becca. I wanted to kill Becca … and Squirt. Then Squirt put his arms around me and said, ‘Dur-bliss?' and I started laughing and wasn't mad at all.”

Haley giggled. We stopped talking for a while. I felt like I was finally beginning to understand the Braddock kids.

We watched Matt hit a home run and that was when Haley said to me, “You know, if Matt had to be handicapped, I'm glad he was made deaf. If he was crippled or blind he probably wouldn't be playing baseball right now. I think he'd be able to do a lot less. Being deaf, well, maybe he can't talk well or hear, but think what he
can
do. Almost anything. He can even watch TV. With closed-captioned TV you get this special decoder, and then you can
read
some shows: The words the people are saying are written on the screen. It's like watching a movie with subtitles. So really the only thing Matt can't do is go to a concert or a play or something.”

I'd been thinking about something I'd read recently. Someone, Helen Keller, I think, had noted that blindness only separates you from
things
, while deafness separates you from
people
. So I was about to disagree with Haley, but what she had just said caught my attention.

“Matt's never been in a theater?” I asked. “He's never been to any kind of performance?” How awful.

“Well, sometimes his school puts on plays in sign language,” said Haley.

“But imagine,” I murmured. “Never been to a ballet or a musical …”

“Well, he couldn't hear the music,” Haley pointed out.

“I know,” I replied, remembering my conversation with Adele. I was also remembering Mme Noelle's club. I was thinking about when we do warm-ups and Madame roams around the ballet studio saying, “And
one
and
two
and
three
and
four
,” banging that club. When she walks by you, you can feel the vibrations of the club hitting the floor. You can also feel the vibrations of the piano music Madame's assistant sometimes plays. If you stand with your hands resting on top of the piano you can feel soft and strong hums.

I thought about
Coppélia
. I thought about how much more there was to a ballet than the music. There was plenty to see — the dancing and the costumes and the scenery. Plus, it was just plain exciting to be in a theater — to look at the rows and rows of red seats and watch the ushers showing people up and down the aisles and hold your breath when the lights go down and the curtain goes up.

I was getting an idea. It was a really terrific idea, but I didn't say anything about it to Haley then, just in case I couldn't pull it off.

Still, as soon as I got home that evening, I began working on the idea. I decided that the first thing to do was to have a talk with Mme Noelle.