Kid Power (10 page)

“No, of course not,” Lisa said. “But she said I should ask you about money.”

“Oh,” I said. That sounded right. Lisa wouldn't ask me on her own and her mother would insist on it. “Gee, I don't know. I've been getting a dollar an hour.”

“That's what I thought,” Lisa said. “But I wouldn't expect all that.”

“Why not?” I asked.

“I don't deserve it all,” she said. “You found me this job, after all. It's like you're an agent.”

Lisa's mother is an agent, so she knows about things like that. “How much does your mother get for finding people jobs?” I asked.

“Ten percent,” Lisa answered.

I giggled. “Ten percent of a dollar is ten cents,” I said. “I hope your mother's clients get more than a dollar an hour.”

“They do,” Lisa said. “Do you want more? Maybe a quarter an hour?”

“No, ten percent sounds okay,” I said. “After all, I'm not doing any of the work. And besides, I think I'm going to quit Kid Power.”

“Really?” she asked. “Why?”

“I've run out of jobs,” I said. “Peachy is cured now, and you're taking care of Mrs. Townsend's garden. I was thinking about taking my sign down and just spending the rest of the summer loafing. And collecting my ten percent.”

“But what about your bike?” she asked.

“I have my old one,” I said. “Maybe I'll get a new one for my birthday.”

“Ten percent then,” Lisa said and wiped her hand off on her shorts so we could shake on the deal. We shook hands to make it official, and then we giggled again.

“Is this how your mother got started?” I asked.

“Not at ten cents an hour,” she said.

I would have gone over to the supermarket then to get my sign except that it felt good to know I could go home and not worry too much, so I left Lisa and biked down to my place. I got a postage stamp, and wrote a note to Mrs. Edwards on the card, and mailed it. Then I brought my books up to date. I'd miss all those gross and nets once Kid Power was finished.

The next morning, I ran downstairs to get the paper first. Sure enough, there was an article about me on page five. I was squinting a little bit in the picture, but it didn't matter. The article told all about Kid Power and Mrs. Edwards, and it made me sound like a saint almost. If I hadn't known it was just me, I would have been very impressed.

I showed my parents the article (Carol was delivering the paper to other people), and they oohed and aahed, and Dad said he was going to pick up a half-dozen copies to send to my grandparents and for my scrapbook and for him to show off at his office. And then Grandma called, because she'd seen the article and she wanted to congratulate me, so I talked with her for a while. I tried to explain I wasn't nearly as wonderful as I sounded in the article, but she kept telling me not to be so modest, I was a wonderful girl, so bright not to have lost my head in an emergency, and very enterprising to boot. She sounded like Mrs. Marks talking about Harriet.

I no sooner hung up from Grandma when the phone started ringing again. My friends called to congratulate me, and Mrs. Marks called to say what a darling girl I was. Mrs. Blake called to say she was very proud of me and Peachy missed me all the time, which I doubted. Even the first lady I yard saled for called to say she'd read the article and was impressed that I'd kept Kid Power going. I didn't get off the telephone until lunch-time, when I made myself a tuna fish sandwich. As long as it didn't have noodles in it, I didn't mind.

That afternoon I got three more phone calls. Two were from ladies who wanted me to help them with their yard sales (the article said that was my specialty), and one woman wanted me to babysit. I told the yard sale ladies that I'd be delighted to and wrote the dates on the calendar. The babysitting lady I said I'd get back to. I would have liked to accept, but there was that family rule about my babysitting. So I brought it up at supper. I figured it would be safe, since everybody still liked me.

“I don't see why you can't sit,” Mom said. “I think you're old enough to now.”

“That's not fair!” Carol said. “You didn't let me sit when I was eleven.”

“Janie's proven she can handle herself in an emergency,” Mom said.

“I could have handled an emergency, too,” Carol said. “I just didn't happen to run into any the way Janie did.”

“I'm not really opposed to Janie babysitting,” Dad said. “But does she really need the extra work?”

“Not really,” I said. I'd been planning on dismantling Kid Power anyway. I'd do those yard sales because they were kind of fun, but I didn't see any reason to take on any new jobs. “I don't mind not doing it.”

“Why don't you call that lady back and tell her I'll babysit?” Carol said.

I got mad for a moment, and then decided to calm down. “Sure,” I said. “For ten percent.”

“Ten percent!” she screeched. “I'll be doing all the work.”

“Ten percent,” I said. “Those are my final terms. If you don't want it, I'll take the job.”

“Daddy?” Carol said, trying to look pathetic.

Dad tried not to smile. “Ten percent seems reasonable to me,” he said.

“Fine,” I said. “I'll call the lady back right now and tell her what we've decided.”

Carol's mouth stayed open while I made the call. I explained that I was booked solid for a while, but that Kid Power would be happy to supply her with another babysitter, my older sister. The lady paused for a moment, and then said common sense usually ran in a family, and if I had it, my sister probably did too, so it was a deal. I hung up and told Carol she had a job for that Friday night. To sweeten her disposition, I also asked her for my standard yard sale order of six dozen oatmeal cookies at our regular rate. I could see Carol computing how much money she'd be earning from me in two days if she stayed on good terms with me, and she smiled to show it was a deal. I smiled, too. It was nice having Carol act nice to me when it wasn't her birthday.

The next morning Mom and I went to the bank to start my account. I had fifty-seven dollars stuffed into my envelope. I'd never seen so much money in my life, let alone had it.

We went to the new-accounts desk and explained the situation. The lady asked me what my name was and I told her.

“You're the girl who rescued Mrs. Edwards!” she exclaimed. “I read about you in the paper yesterday.”

I blushed and nodded. Mom grinned.

“Mr. Rivers, come here,” the woman said, and a man walked over. “This is Janie Golden, the girl who rescued Mrs. Edwards.”

“Ah, yes,” he said. “I read about you in the paper yesterday. Congratulations.”

“Thank you,” I said. I thought my cheeks were on fire.

“Jane wants to start an account with us. From the money she earned from Kid Power, I bet,” the woman said.

“I was most impressed with Kid Power,” the man said. “So many children start things and then drop them. It sounds like you have a fine organization going.”

“It's expanding,” I choked out. I hadn't seen Mom smile so much in months.

“We're honored to have your account,” the man said. “I hope this is just the start of a long and profitable relationship for both of us.”

“Thank you,” I said. The man walked away, and the woman started filling the forms out. Mom and I supplied all the information she needed and signed where we were supposed to. I took the forms to the line and handed them to the teller along with my envelope of money. In return, I got a bank book that listed my savings at fifty-seven dollars. It wasn't a bad start.

Mom decided to treat me to lunch, so we went to a luncheonette and I ordered franks and beans. Mom got a roast beef sandwich. After that we walked around town window-shopping. It had been a long time since we'd done anything together outside the house and we both enjoyed it. I liked knowing that I was earning money without having to do anything, too.

We didn't get home until after two. I found Carol in the kitchen taking a tray of cookies out of the oven.

“I thought you'd never get back,” she said. “You've gotten a half-dozen phone calls since you left.”

“I did?” I asked, grabbing an apple. “Who from?”

“Lisa called just to say hello,” Carol said, wiping her forehead. “So did Ted. Mrs. Edwards called from the hospital to say she got your card and she was feeling much better and she wished she could see you so she could thank you properly. And the other ones are written down on the pad.”

I walked over to the pad to check the messages. “Carol, what did you do?” I asked. “These are people who called with jobs for me.”

“I said you'd take them,” Carol said. “The first one is a lady who needs someone to babysit on Saturday. And one of those people needs someone to help her pack some boxes. I thought that might be an interesting change of pace. And some lady wants you to walk her Great Dane. I told her animal care was one of your specialties.”

“But I can't do all that,” I said.

“Why not?” Carol said. “Mom and Dad said you could babysit, so that's no problem.”

“You know big dogs scare me,” I said, thinking of Sugar. “And I can't pack those boxes. I have a yard sale Saturday. I can't possibly do both.”

“I'm sorry,” she said. “I just assumed you could.”

“Call them back and say you can't make it,” Mom said.

“I will,” I said, just as the phone rang. I picked it up. “Hello?” I said.

“Is this Kid Power?”

“Yes it is,” I said.

“This is Harrison Dowell,” the voice said. “I'm calling to confirm that you'll be over on Saturday to help my wife with her yard sale.”

I checked my calendar frantically. As far as I could tell, my Saturday yard sale was with a Mrs. Schwartz.

“Your wife didn't call me, did she?” I asked, trying to sound mature.

“No,” the man said. “I spoke to your father about it. We take the train together, and I mentioned I'd seen the article about you. Congratulations, by the way.”

“Thank you,” I said, trying to think fast.

“I thought it would be a pleasant surprise for my wife if you were there to help out. Your father assures me you're quite a competent worker, and I have great faith in your father's judgment.”

“Oh,” I said. I didn't want to let my father down. Good grief, this was the first I'd heard that he thought I was a competent anything, or that he approved of what I was doing.

“I don't know if I'll be able to be at your yard sale myself,” I said. “I have another appointment my father didn't know about.”

“Oh,” he said. “I'm sorry to hear that.”

“But Kid Power represents a number of workers,” I said. “I'll supply someone else for the sale if that's all right with you.”

I could tell he was thinking. “All right,” he said. “Could you have someone over by nine o'clock Saturday morning at 11 Smith Street?”

“I guarantee you'll be satisfied,” I said, writing down the information. “Thank you, Mr. Dowell.”

“Thank you,” he said. “You sound like a very mature young woman.”

I didn't want to thank him again, so I just made a mature noise and repeated his address. We said goodbye.

“Carol, can you bake me another batch of cookies?” I asked. “Regular rate?”

“Okay,” Carol said. “I guess I owe you that much.”

“Thank you,” I said.

“What're you going to do now?” she asked, layering the cookies on sheets of wax paper.

“I'm not quite sure,” I said. “I think I'm going to try to be an organizational genius.”

“Good luck,” she said. “You're going to need it.” I couldn't even argue.

Chapter Ten

I took all the messages Carol had written down and went up to my room. I took a calendar with me, and a pencil. Then I took a piece of loose-leaf paper and wrote down every job I had scheduled and when I was supposed to do them.

To get everything done I would have needed five extra arms, seven new legs, and a fondness for Great Danes, none of which I had. Of course I could have called half those places back and said I couldn't make it, but that didn't seem right. Dad would be sure to say I'd bitten off more than I could chew if I did, even though he was responsible for part of the mess I was in.

So then I thought about Carol and the babysitting and Lisa and the Townsends' garden and Lisa's mother and the ten percent, and I knew with a little bit of luck I'd be able to get everything done and make some money on it on the side.

First I called Ted, since after all he'd called me. “Hi, Ted,” I said, when he picked up the phone. “How're things going?”

“Okay,” he said. “I pitched a no-hitter yesterday and hit three home runs.”

“That's pretty good,” I said. It had been a long time since I'd played baseball. All work and no play … “Say Ted, how would you like to earn a little money?”

“Sure,” he said. “I could use a new pitcher's glove.”

“You have dogs, don't you?” I asked. I knew he did, but I was favoring the casual approach. Great Danes terrify me, almost as much as German shepherds and scotties.

“Two Saint Bernards,” he said. “Waldo and Evangeline.”

“I thought so,” I said. “You see, this woman called Kid Power and she needs someone to walk her Great Dane. I thought I should give the job to someone with dog experience.”

“I thought you did all the jobs in Kid Power,” Ted said.

“I'm expanding,” I said. “Would you be interested in the job?”

“I guess so,” he said. “If I could fit walking the dogs in with my baseball schedule. What's the pay?”

“I'll have to get back to you on that,” I admitted. “I take ten percent though.”

“That sounds fair,” Ted said. “Call me back when you know what's going on, okay?”