The neighborhood kids once feared me. When I strolled up and down the street with my dark clothes, fortune telling paraphernalia, and a book of spells under my arm, kids made way for me, for they knew they were in the presence of a powerful individual. At any moment, my eyes rolled up and I got a message from "The Other Side." The place where mere mortals dare not tread. I saw the harbinger ghosts standing behind the other children. I tried to warn them, but they failed to heed my words. Those kids disappeared and the ones who knew to listen to me continued to exist.
At least that was how I perceived myself for a summer when I was a kid. The fortune-telling paraphernalia was a coin and a deck of playing cards. The spellbook was a child's introduction to fortune telling and the paranormal and I had to return it to the library in four weeks. I didn't see any ghosts - I pretended to see dead grandparents and people who died under mysterious circumstances in the neighborhood houses. If all the ghosts I claimed to see actually existed, that would mean every house in my neighborhood had at least three mysterious deaths per house. That would make the neighborhood the most dangerous neighborhood in America, but children don't really think about statistics. The children who mysteriously disappeared just moved away.
I have always been fascinated with the paranormal or the weird. I wanted a secret passage in my house. I wanted to see a ghost. I wanted to be a part of a mystery. I still want a secret passage in my house and if I ever built my own house, I'd request a swinging bookcase. I still want to see a ghost and if something says "haunted," I'm the first in line (I still haven't seen a ghost). I still want to be a part of a mystery, preferably on a train.
When the baby-sitters go poking through Dawn's house attempting to find a mystery, I smiled to myself. If I were them, I'd be the one to instigate the whole thing. The Ghost at Dawn's House is a fun mystery book with a secret passage and a ghost. I enjoyed it, even if Nicky annoys me.
SPOILERS AFTER THE COVER!
My copy of The Baby-Sitters Club #9: The Ghost at Dawn's House – Ghosts are very safety conscious, we all know they require handrails in order to haunt a place.
The Baby-Sitters Club #9 - The Ghost at Dawn's House starts with the first BSC meeting after Dawn returns from her trip to California and a little casual racism. She regales the other babysitters about her father, referring to him as "Disneyland Dad" because he took her and her younger brother Jeff to the eponymous amusement park while they were there in an attempt to make up for the time he wasn't spending with his children. Then Dawn describes Claudia (who is Asian) as "exotic-looking." C'mon, Dawn (actually Ann M. Martin), you're better than that. Asians aren't exotic - there are billions of them. There are more Asians than white people. Even more than blonde people, so, really, Dawn, you're the exotic one.
But I guess it was the 80's and, apparently, world statistics wasn't invented yet, so I guess I'll give them a pass. But seriously, this will be a recurring issue in these books. It's nice and progressive to have an Asian character, but can we stop calling her "exotic." If she had purple eyes, blue skin, and a proclivity for eating paste, then I'd call her "exotic." Until Claudia exhibits something actually "exotic," I'll just call her "Asian-American." But I do love that dragon bracelet!
YOU ARE READING
Rereading My Childhood: The Baby-Sitters ClubNon-Fiction
I am revisiting my favorite old books, and I'm starting with The Baby-Sitters Club.