Fabulous Five 017 - Celebrity Auction

THE
FABULOUS FIVE #17

CELEBRITY AUCTION

BETSY HAYNES

A BANTAM SKYLARK
BOOK®

NEW YORK • TORONTO •
SYDNEY • AUCKLAND

RL 5, IL age 009-012

CELEBRITY AUCTION

A Bantam Skylark
Book
/ April 1990

Skylark Books is a
registered trademark of Bantam Books, a division of Bantam Doubleday Dell
Publishing Group, Inc. Registered in U.S. Patent and Trademark Office and
elsewhere.

All rights
reserved.

Copyright
©
1990 by Betsy Haynes and James Haynes.

Cover art
copyright
© 1990 by Andrew Bacha.

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and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

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address: Bantam Books.

ISBN 0-553-15784-1

Published
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published by Bantam Books, a division of Bantam Doubleday Dell Publishing
Group, Inc. Its trademark, consisting of the words "Bantam Books" and
the portrayal of a rooster, is Registered in U.S. Patent and Trademark Office
and in other countries. Marca Registrada. Bantam Books, 666 Fifth Avenue, New
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PRINTED IN THE UNITED
STATES OF AMERICA

OPM      0 9 8 7 6 5
4 3 2 1

Dedicated to Mrs.
Ethel Holladay and the Du Quoin High School Future Business Leaders of America
,
Du Quoin, Illinois

Beth Barry placed five small tubes of hair paint in a row
across the top of the bathroom sink. She had bought one for each color in the
splash-print design that she had spent most of the previous evening putting
onto a white sweatshirt, size XL. She planned to wear the sweatshirt to school
today with her red stirrup pants.

"This is going to be ter-rif-ic," she sang as she
spread out the sweatshirt across the toilet tank so that she could see the
designs. Beth picked up the tube of red paint. All she had to do was put
designs into her short, dark hair that exactly matched the ones in the
sweatshirt. She could hardly wait to get to school and show off. No one had ever
worn something as wild and original as this to school before. She would be a sen-
sation!

She squirted a little of the red paint just above her left
ear. Then, using a cotton swab to spread it, she meticulously duplicated the
streak of red color on the right shoulder of the shirt. When she finished, she
stood back and admired her work. "It's gorgeous," she murmured to
herself.

It took almost an hour to duplicate the splashes and
splatters and swashes of red, green, yellow, blue, and orange into her hair. She
used a mirror to paint the back, and she had to stop several times to rest her
aching arms. Finally finished, she put the caps back on the paint tubes and
looked at herself in the mirror, sighing with pleasure.

As soon as the paints were dry she pulled on the sweatshirt
and put on huge red hoop earrings. "Wow!" she called out to her
reflection as she dabbed on siren-red lipstick and raced downstairs to the
kitchen.

Her parents were at the breakfast table, sleepily reading
the morning paper, but there were only empty cereal bowls and half-eaten toast
at the places usually occupied by her four brothers and sisters. Uh-oh, she
thought. Painting my hair took longer than I thought.

"I don't want any breakfast. I'm running late,"
she called to her parents as she bounded to the refrigerator and grabbed the
gallon of milk.

Both nodded and went on reading, but suddenly Agatha, the
family's Old English sheepdog, sat down in the middle of the kitchen floor and
began to howl.

Beth poured milk into a glass and glanced at Agatha. "What's
the matter, girl?"

At the sound of Beth's voice, Agatha howled louder. Then she
padded over to Beth, sniffed at her for a moment, and howled louder than ever.

"Agatha! Cut that out," ordered Mr. Barry. He put
down his paper and frowned at the dog. "What's the matter with you anyway?
Beth's no stranger. She's . . ." Her father's words trailed off and his
eyes widened as he looked at his daughter. "What . . . on earth . . . have
you done to yourself?"

Mrs. Barry looked up from her crossword puzzle. Dropping her
pencil, she gasped and jumped to her feet. "Beth! Your hair!" she
cried.

Beth took a big swallow of milk, ceremoniously licked away
any milk mustache that might have lingered on her upper lip, and flung her arms
outward, striking a dramatic pose. "Isn't it totally
awesome
?
"
she cried, flashing a big grin.

Her mother groaned and sank back into her chair. "Oh,
Beth," she murmured, shaking her head.

Beth put her hands on her hips. "Mom, it's hair paint.
It's not the same stuff I used on my sweatshirt, and it's washable!" she
insisted. "The lady at the drugstore said it was. It even says so right on
the tubes."

"I'm glad it's washable because you're going straight
upstairs and wash it out immediately," her mother said sternly. "You're
not
going to school like that."

"But, Mom!" Beth pleaded. "It matches my
sweatshirt. Besides, I bought it with my own money."

"No buts about it," said her father. "Do what
your mother says. I don't know what this world's coming to," he said,
turning to Beth's mother. "Kids today! Look at how many of them are
getting into trouble. They aren't serious about anything important. They just
want to loaf and spend money on crazy clothes and . . . and . . ." He
waved a hand toward Beth and sputtered,
"Painting their hair!"

"I don't have time to wash my hair," Beth sobbed. "I'll
be late for school."

Mr. Barry glared at her over the top of his glasses. "Young
lady," he warned.

"Okay. Okay. I'm going."

Beth scuffed angrily up the stairs and into the bathroom.
Actually, she did have time to wash her hair and blow-dry it, she realized,
glancing at her watch. It was cut short and dried easily. But that wasn't the
point. How could her parents be so unfair? After all, it was
her
money.
And
her
hair!

On the way to school a little while later, she was still
fuming at her father's words.
I don't know what this world's coming to. Kids
today! They don't care about anything important.
Adults were always saying
things like that, and it made her angry. Sure, some kids were like that, but certainly
not all of them, and certainly not herself and The Fabulous Five. They were all
good students. Katie was a judge on Teen Court and tried her best to be fair.
Christie was a genius and was on the homework hot-line team that helped other
students in the evenings. Jana Morgan was a born leader and could always hold
things together when everybody else was falling apart. Melanie Edwards might be
boy crazy, but she had a big heart and even organized a way to save lots of
animals from being put to sleep at the animal shelter. It was disgusting to be
lumped together with everybody no matter what you did.

A couple of blocks from school, her mood brightened. She saw
Keith Masterson leaning against a building and talking to some of his friends.
Her heart fluttered. He had blond hair and blue eyes, and as far as she was
concerned, he was the cutest boy in Wakeman Junior High.

They had liked each other since sixth grade in Mark Twain
Elementary. Back then it had been fun to go to the movies with The Fabulous
Five on Friday nights and see Keith there with his friends and even sit with
him sometimes. Now, in seventh grade, they had real dates, and Keith always
kissed her good-night when he brought her home. Since his father usually drove
them, they would duck behind the post on Beth's porch so that Mr. Masterson
wouldn't see.

Most of the time Keith was sweet and sensitive, and even
though they had their differences sometimes, she really liked him. He loved to
clown around, for one thing, and could always make her laugh. This morning that
was really what she needed.

She knew he had seen her, but suddenly he huddled with Tony
Sanchez, Bill Soliday, and Joel Murphy, and after a few seconds they all
started laughing. Joke time, she thought, smiling as she remembered how Keith
always seemed to know a new joke that no one else had heard.

Just as she sauntered past the boys, Keith whirled toward
her. "Green slime!" he shouted, and squirted something green into the
air.

Beth ducked, but she wasn't fast enough. Gooey green stuff
landed in her hair, dripping down her face and into her ears. "Keith Masterson,
you imbecile!" she screamed. "Look what you've done!"

Beth swiped at the green goop, trying to keep it from
dripping onto her beautiful new sweatshirt while Keith and his friends rocked
with laughter.

"Who ya gonna call?" Keith sang at the top of his
lungs.
"Slime busters
!"
Bill, Tony, and Joel tried to
sing, too, but they were laughing too hard.

Tears stung Beth's eyes as she stomped off down the street
toward school. This was absolutely the last straw. Now she would have to go
into the girls' bathroom and try to get the revolting green mess out of her
hair before the bell rang.

"Maybe my father was right," she mumbled under her
breath. "
Some
kids
don't
have their heads on straight or
care about important things.
Some
of them,
Keith Masterson to name
one
, are too immature and self-centered to be believable. They ought to be
kept in cages!"

Out of the corner of her eye she saw the rest of The
Fabulous Five running toward her. Katie was waving her arms and shouting
something.

Beth stopped in her tracks. Do I look that gross? she
wondered.

"Beth! Beth! You can't go into the school," Katie
called.

Jana was breathless when she reached Beth. "Didn't you
hear what happened?" Then she stared at Beth. "
Eee-yew!
What
happened to your hair?"

Beth frowned and shook her head. "Never mind my hair. I'll
tell you about it later. What's going on?"

"Some kids broke into the school over the weekend and
wrecked the whole place," said Christie. "Everybody says it was Steve
Melchior and his crowd."

"The custodian found the mess when he got here earlier,"
Melanie broke in. "And Mr. Bell came out on the front steps a few minutes
ago and said that no one can go in until the police get through taking pictures
and things. Didn't you see the police cars by the front door?"

For the first time Beth noticed two black-and-white police
cars parked where the buses usually stopped to unload kids this time of
morning. Oh, no, she thought. What will my dad and all the other adults have to
say about kids now?

As Beth stared at the police cars, Melanie asked, "Beth?
What did happen to your hair?"

Beth jerked around to face her friends. "Keith
Masterson!" She snorted in disgust. "Just as I walked past him and Tony,
Bill, and Joel, he jumped out and squirted me. Then he yelled, 'Who ya gonna
call? Slime busters!'"

"Gosh. That's awful," said Christie, wrinkling her
nose in contempt. "I've probably got some tissues in my purse."

"Me, too," said Jana.

The others nodded and began fishing around in their purses,
pulling out tissues in assorted pastel colors.

Beth took them gratefully and started wiping globs of green
slime out of her hair. "I just don't understand Keith," she
complained. "He can be so sweet when we're alone, but when he's around his
friends, he's a total jerk!"

"I think it's a disease called immaturity,"
grumbled Katie. "And believe me, Keith isn't the only boy who has it."

Just then Alexis Duvall walked up to The Fabulous Five. "Did
you hear what Steve Melchior and his hoodlum friends did to the school?"
she asked.

Christie shrugged. "Just that someone vandalized it
pretty badly," she said.

"Wow. Wait till I tell you what
I
heard,"
Alexis said, moving in closer. "There's graffiti spray-painted all over the
halls. Broken glass is everywhere. Books have been pulled off the shelves in
the media center. And I even heard that some of the computers and science
equipment has been smashed. Those guys really totaled the place."

"Oh, no," groaned Beth. Things were sounding worse
by the minute. "Did they arrest Steve and his friends?"

Alexis shook her head. "Nobody caught them at it. It's
just that it had to be them."

"If nobody caught them, then it's just speculation,"
argued Katie.

Even though Beth knew Katie wanted to be fair, she also
believed Alexis was probably right. Steve Melchior and his crowd were
troublemakers, kids who were repeating ninth grade this year while they waited
for their sixteenth birthdays so they could legally quit school. The school
administration and Mr. Bell, the principal, had been cracking down pretty hard
on them lately for their disruptive behavior. "Do you think they were out
for revenge?" Beth asked Alexis.

Alexis nodded. "That's what everybody thinks."

"Look," Melanie cried excitedly. "There's the
mobile unit from Channel 2, and Marge Whitworth is in the front seat. It's
going to be on TV. I'll bet there are newspaper reporters in the building, too."

"Great!" scoffed Beth, throwing up her hands. "That's
just what we need. More bad publicity for kids. My parents were on my case this
morning at breakfast about how awful our generation is turning out and how I
was a perfect example because I painted my hair."

"You painted your hair?" Katie asked
incredulously.

"I'll explain later," said Beth.

"I know what you mean about your parents," said
Christie. "Mine argue about the same thing all the time. My mom defends
kids, but my dad says she only does it because she's an elementary-school
principal and just sees little ones. Yesterday he even read a newspaper article
out loud about kids in New York City who rob stores in gangs. They know they
can get away with it because one or two security guards are no match for twenty
or thirty kids."

"I still say that kids are getting a bad rap,"
said Beth. "Only a few kids do things like that, but we all get the blame.
Just wait until this story hits the six-o'clock news."

She watched Marge Whitworth get out of the mobile unit and
direct her camera crew toward the front door like a general heading for war. Her
expression was grim, too, making Beth shudder and wonder what she would say
when she reported the story on the news.

By this time the entire student body had arrived at school
and was milling around on the front lawn waiting for further word from Mr. Bell.
Beth glanced around and saw Keith and his friends standing on the sidewalk near
the gum tree. At least they weren't laughing anymore, she thought. But then
nobody was.

"I wonder why he doesn't come out and tell us all to go
home?" asked Melanie when the principal's name was mentioned a few minutes
later. "Surely we can't have classes in there today."

As if Melanie's words were magic, the front door finally
opened and Mr. Bell stepped out. His face was stern, and murmurs of speculation
swept through the crowd as he held up his hand for silence.

"Boys and girls," he called as the last voices
died away. "As you know, there's been a very great tragedy at our school
today. Wakeman Junior High has been broken into and vandalized by unknown
persons. The damage is heavy, and some of you will find personal belongings as
well as prized class projects either damaged or totally destroyed."

There was an outburst of conversation among the students at
that news. Beth's mind raced to her locker where she had left her favorite
pullover sweater because she had had too much to carry home the night before.
It was electric green with her name embroidered over her heart. Surely a bunch
of boys wouldn't want to hurt it.

Beside her, Jana murmured, "I wonder if they hit the
yearbook room. We've spent hundreds of hours getting all the pictures together.
Garrett Boldt will absolutely die if they're destroyed and he has to shoot them
again."

Mr. Bell held up his hand for quiet once more. "In just
a little while the police and the newspaper and television crews will be
finished inside. Although classes will be suspended for today, I'm going to ask
any of you who can to assist in the big task of cleaning up the building. In a
few minutes you may come inside, and I'd like for you to go directly to your
homerooms, where you'll get instructions from your teachers. It is my hope that
by working together we can all do a little something to offset the effects of
this terrible crime."

Silence hung over the crowd when Mr. Bell finished speaking
and went back inside, and Beth knew each student was trying to cope with the
situation in his or her own way. Only a few drifted off the school ground,
apparently more eager to have a day off from classes than to help with the
cleanup. But most of the students stayed, held by both fear and dread. She
shivered and glanced toward the building. What would they find when they went
inside?