“What do you think they’re saying?” Nancy whispered.
We did not have to wait long to find out.
“Girls?” said Daddy. “We have decided that we will each give you ten dollars for the carnival. And you do not have to pay us back.”
“It will be our contribution to the playground,” added Mr. Dawes.
“Yippee!” I cried.
And Hannie said, “I think our money should be a contribution, too.”
“Yes,” I agreed. I felt grown-up.
That night, Mommy and Seth promised us ten more dollars. All together we would have nearly fifty-four dollars to spend on the carnival.
Cotton Candy!
Fifty-four dollars sounded like a fortune. Now that we had so much money, we decided to work on our “Things to Buy” list.
So on Sunday, Nancy and Hannie and I met in Hannie’s room. After we kicked out her big brother, Linny, we got right to work. (Linny had been making bulldog faces at us. Hannie had to close the door so that we could not see him. Even so, we could hear him growling in the hallway.)
“Okay,” I said. “I will write down the list.” I sat at Hannie’s desk. “Things to buy, things to buy,” I murmured.
“Lots of prizes,” said Nancy.
I wrote down: prizes.
“A wading pool,” said Hannie.
“A wading pool?” I repeated.
“Yeah. For the duck pond. We need rubber ducks, too.”
“We could borrow those things,” suggested Nancy.
“Right,” I agreed. “I better make another list.” I wrote “Things to Borrow” across the top of a second piece of paper.
“I bet we could make some stuff, too,” said Hannie. “Like the target for the dart-throw.” (We planned to have a safe dart-throwing game. The darts would be Magic Markers. They would not stick to a dartboard. But we would be able to see where they had hit by the mark they left on the target.)
I wrote “Things to Make” across a third piece of paper.
“What kinds of refreshments are we going to sell?” asked Nancy. “Anything besides lemonade and popcorn? We will need to buy all the food stuff.”
“We could sell cookies,” I said. “The slice-and-bake kind. Kristy could help us with the oven.” I thought for a moment. “I still don’t see why we cannot sell cotton candy.”
“Because we do not have a cotton-candy maker!” cried Nancy.
“Well, we can rent one. We have fifty-four dollars now,” I pointed out.
“Do you know how much renting a cotton-candy machine would cost?” said Nancy.
“No. Do you?”
“Yes. I asked my father.”
When Nancy told me what her father had said, I gasped. “You’re kidding! That much? Then we probably cannot hire a clown or a magician, either.”
“No,” said Nancy and Hannie.
“Grrr,” said Linny from the hallway.
Mary R. Sanderson
One Saturday, I woke up feeling excited. It was a very special day. It was not a holiday. It was the day the famous author was coming to town. This author does not write long, hard books for big people. She writes funny books for kids. Her name is Mary R. Sanderson. I love her books! And now I was going to have a chance to meet her.
It was a little-house Saturday. As soon as I woke up, I scrambled out of bed. I ran into the hallway. I almost ran into Mommy.
“Mommy!” I cried. “It’s Mary R. Sanderson Day!”
“Indoor voice, Karen,” Mommy whispered. “We’re the first ones up. Yes, it’s a big day, isn’t it? Not many people get to meet one of their favorite authors.”
“What’s an arthur?” (That was Andrew. He came out of his room, looking sleepy.)
“What’s an — ” I started to shout. Then I remembered to whisper. “What’s an author? Andrew, don’t you even know that? And anyway, it’s author, not arthur. An author is a person who writes books. An Arthur is just a guy.”
“Oh,” said Andrew.
“Mommy?” I asked as we went to the kitchen. “Do you think Mary R. Sanderson will write something in my autograph book, too?”
“Maybe,” answered Mommy. “You can try.”
“And I’m going to give her something special.”
“You are?” Mommy looked a little nervous.
“Yes. Don’t worry,” I said. “I know Mary R. Sanderson will like it.”
* * *
Later that morning, I was standing outside the Book Nook. I was waiting in a lo-o-o-o-ong line. Everyone seemed to want to meet the famous author. The line was so long that it ran from Mary R. Sanderson’s table through the store, out the door, and down the sidewalk.
I knew a lot of people in the line. I was standing with Seth, Andrew, Nancy, Mr. and Mrs. Dawes, Hannie, Linny, and Mr. and Mrs. Papadakis. (Mommy was busy inside.) Ahead of me was a bunch of kids from Ms. Colman’s class. Some of them had brought their autograph books, too. Behind me were Kristy, David Michael, and Daddy.
Everyone was talking, mostly about Mary R. Sanderson.
“Can you see her yet?” someone asked.
“Does she look the same as her picture?”
“Do you have her newest book?”
I did not have her newest book. But Mommy had said it would be on sale in the store. Seth was going to buy it for me. Then Mary R. Sanderson could sign it and my autograph book. And then I would give her my secret surprise.
The line moved along slowly. We reached the door. We walked through the front of the store. Seth picked up a copy of the new book. He handed it to me. And suddenly I saw … her.
“There she is!” I cried.
Hannie and Nancy and I leaned forward. Mary R. Sanderson did not look much different from other women we knew. In fact, she was young, like Ms. Colman. Even so, as I inched closer to the autographing table, I began to feel nervous.
At last it was my turn. I was looking right at the author.
Feeling very timid, I pushed my new book across the table to Mary R. Sanderson.
“Hi,” she said. “What’s your name?”
“Karen Brewer,” I whispered. I remembered to add, “I really like your books.”
Mary R. Sanderson smiled. She scribbled something in the front of my book and gave it back to me. “There you go,” she said.
I took the book and I handed her an envelope. “This is for you. It’s a letter.”
“Thank you! I’ll read it when I get home tonight.”
“Could you sign my autograph book, too?” I whispered.
Mary R. Sanderson said she would be happy to. She was so nice.
Later, Nancy, Hannie, and I looked at what she had written in our books. My book said, “Happy Reading, Karen! From Mary R. Sanderson.” In my autograph book was written, “Yours till the kitchen sinks!”
I was gigundo happy.
(I hoped Mary R. Sanderson liked my letter.)
The Town Thermometer
One day Mommy drove Andrew and me downtown. She parked the car and we got out. Mommy said, “Come with me to Palmer Square. I want to show you something. A surprise was put up today.”
“Oh, goody. A surprise!” cried Andrew.
We walked around a corner. In front of us was Palmer Square. It is kind of like a park. The ground is covered with grass, and green trees grow everywhere. Now a tall white sign stood right in the middle of the square. It looked like a thermometer. At the bottom was a big fat zero. At the top was written “Hurray!”
I frowned. “It looks like a thermometer, Mommy,” I said.
“Is Palmer Square sick?” asked Andrew.
(When would he ever grow up?)
Mommy laughed. “It is a thermometer,” she said. “But Palmer Square is not sick. The thermometer shows how much money we have earned for the playground. See the red line? It’s about halfway to the top. That means we have earned almost half the money we need. Mary Sanderson helped us earn a lot. As we raise more money, we’ll paint the line higher. When it reaches ‘Hurray!
’ we will be ready to start the playground.”
“Cool,” I said.
“I don’t get it,” said Andrew.
* * *
In Ms. Colman’s class, we were talking about the thermometer. Almost all the kids in my class had seen it.
“We have half the money,” I announced.
“Duh!” said Bobby Gianelli.
“Shhh!” hissed Hannie. “Ms. Colman will be here any minute!”
“Duh,” whispered Bobby.
“Well, when I am all done with my car wash,” said Hank, “that thermometer will be a lot higher. I plan to make millions.”
“Really?” asked Natalie.
(Oh, for heaven’s sake.)
“Have you mowed any lawns yet?” I asked Natalie. (I could not help it.)
“No,” she said. “But I weeded our garden. I earned fifty cents.”
“I am going to have my bake sale on Saturday,” spoke up Pamela. “My big sister and I have been baking forever. I hope you guys will come.”
We said we would. We wanted to help the playground. Besides, we like cookies. Even cookies baked by Pamela.
“You know what?” said Leslie Morris. “I thought Hannie had a good idea. So me and Jannie and my brother are going to have a toy and jewelry sale. We are cleaning out our closets and our rec rooms.”
“What kind of jewelry will you be selling?” asked Ricky, my husband.
“Oh, everything,” said Jannie.
“Maybe I will buy you something, Karen,” said Ricky. “It could be an anniversary present.”
“Thanks!” I replied.
“I did not have much luck with my fundraising,” said Bobby. “I put a sign up in our front yard. It said, THE FIX-IT GUY. I REPAIR TOYS. But nobody brought me any toys to fix. I even changed the sign. I made it say, I REPAIR TOYS FREE.”
“How were you going to earn money fixing stuff for free?” I asked.
Bobby shrugged.
“Good morning, class,” said Ms. Colman.
We ran for our seats.
Dinosaur Erasers
“Are you guys ready?” I asked Nancy and Hannie.
School was over. Mommy was going to pick up the Three Musketeers. We had a big project to take care of downtown.
“I’m ready!” said Nancy.
“Me, too!” said Hannie.
We ran outside. (We are supposed to remember to walk.)
There was Mommy.
“Did you bring the money?” I cried. “Did you remember it?”
Mommy had been taking care of our fifty-four dollars for us. Now we needed it. We were going to go shopping for the carnival. We were going to buy the prizes.
Andrew shook his head. He looked very sad. “Mommy lost your money,” he said.
“Mommy!” I cried.
“Mrs. Engle!” exclaimed Nancy and Hannie.
“I’m just kidding,” said Andrew. “Mommy has your money.”
“Andrew!” I yelled. But then I began to giggle.
Hannie and Nancy and I climbed into the car. We fastened our seat belts. Mommy drove us to a new store. It is gigundo wonderful. It only sells toys. The store is called Unicorn.
Inside Unicorn, Hannie and Nancy and I looked all around. My favorite part of the store is the shelf with the glass jars. Each jar is filled with little toys. There are lots of jars.
“Look! Teensy puzzles!” I cried.
“Little tiny troll dolls!” said Nancy.
“Dinosaur erasers!” said Hannie.
“Can I have one?” asked Andrew.
“You may choose one thing today,” Mommy told him.
“Cool! Here are rubber spiders on strings!” I said.
Nancy held up a little yo-yo. “These would be good prizes.”
“So would these,” said Hannie. “Lookit. You drop this tablet in water and it turns into an animal. A foam animal, I mean.”
“Can I have one?” asked Andrew.
“Hey, here are glow-in-the-dark dinosaurs!” I exclaimed.
“Can I have one?” asked Andrew.
My friends and I looked and looked. We wanted to buy everything. But we knew we could not. We had decided to buy just a certain number of prizes. We chose carefully. Even so, we spent an awful lot of our money.
“Do we have enough left over for lemonade and paper cups and stuff?” asked Nancy.
“I hope so,” I answered.
We had to wait awhile for Andrew. He was still choosing his one toy. He took forever. At last he chose a dinosaur eraser. We had bought several of them. I was sure they would make good prizes.
On the way home, we passed the town thermometer.
“Ooh, look everyone!” I shouted. “The red line is higher!”
“Yea!” cried Nancy and Hannie.
But Mommy did not look very happy.
“What’s wrong?” I asked her.
“We are not earning money as fast as we hoped we would.”
“No playground?” whined Andrew.
“Oh, I think we’ll be able to build the playground,” Mommy replied. “But it might take longer than we thought.”
“Don’t worry,” I said. “Karen’s Carnival will save the day.”
The Carnival Begins
“IT’S CARNIVAL TIME!” I yelled.
“Karen, shh. You’ll wake up the whole house,” said Nannie.
“Sorry,” I replied as I ran downstairs. “But today is the day of the carniva-a-al!”
Nancy and Hannie and I had worked gigundoly hard. We had made a booth for every game. (The booths were cardboard cartons.) We were going to set up a penny-pitch, a dart-throw, a ringtoss, a duck pond, a bottle-cap-throw, and a fortune-teller. We were also going to have the refreshment stand for lemonade and popcorn, but no cotton candy. (Boo.) We had collected enough junk for a teensy rummage sale, and Nancy was going to be selling all these friendship bracelets she had made.
“Oh, I can’t wait, I can’t wait, I can’t wait!” I sang. “Look, Nannie. It is a perfect carnival day. All sunshine, no clouds.”
“Maybe that’s good luck,” said Nannie.
“Oh, I know it is!”
* * *
Nancy came over to the big house early in the morning. Hannie came over just a few minutes later.
“Let’s get to work!” I cried.
My friends and I moved the booths out of the garage. We set them up in two rows, with an aisle in-between. We had made a sign for each booth, so kids would know what the games were. Hannie and Nancy and I were going to stand behind the booths. We would yell out things like, “Penny-pitch here!” or, “Play the ringtoss!” or, “Fabulous prizes!”
Then we dragged three tables into the yard. One was for refreshments, one was for the rummage sale, and one was for Nancy’s friendship bracelets.
“Now,” I said, “it’s time to put up our sign and tie balloons to our mailbox. Nancy, you take care of the balloons. Hannie, you put up the sign.”
“What are you going to do?” asked Hannie.
“Get the refreshments ready,” I replied.
So Nancy tied a bunch of yellow and green balloons to our mailbox. We had blown up the balloons the night before. Hannie stuck the sign in our front lawn. The sign read: KAREN’S CARNIVAL HERE. And I brought a pitcher of lemonade and ten bags of popcorn to the refreshment stand. Nancy and I had made the popcorn at the little house. We had popped some every night all week until Seth said, “This house smells like a baseball stadium.”
When Hannie and Nancy finished their jobs, they joined me in the backyard.
I was looking at our carnival. “Uh-oh,” I said.
“What-oh?” replied Nancy.
“I just realized something. Nancy, you are going to be at your bracelet stand. Hannie, you wanted to sell refreshments. And I wanted to be the fortune-teller. If we do those things, who is going to run the games and the rummage sale?”
“Uh-oh,” said Hannie and Nancy.
“It’s nine-fifteen now. The carnival starts at
ten. We better get help fast!”
We ran into the big house.
“HELP!” I yelled.
“Karen, what happened?” asked Daddy.
I told him our problem.
“I think we can take care of that,” he said. “But from now on, don’t yell ‘help’ unless there is a real emergency. Okay?”
“Okay,” I replied.
Fifteen minutes later, Elizabeth was standing at the rummage table, and Kristy, Charlie, Sam, David Michael, and Linny Papadakis were at the game booths.
We were ready for our carnival.
The Witch at the Carnival
“Step right up! Getcher popcorn here!” cried Hannie.
“Bracelets for sale!” called Nancy. “No two alike. Buy one for your best friend!”
“Come and haff your fortune told,” I said in a spooky voice. “Visit Madame Karen!”
It was eleven o’clock. Karen’s Carnival had been open for an hour. Nine people were there. Besides Hannie and Nancy and me and my family, that is. Kids in the neighborhood were playing games. Mrs. Papadakis was looking at the stuff on the rummage table.
“I want my fortune told, please,” said Melody Korman. Melody is a friend of mine. She lives two houses away from Hannie.
“Okay. That’ll be … I mean, all r-r-r-right. Zat vill be twenty-fife cents.”
Melody held out a quarter. I added it to the two quarters I had already earned. Then I took Melody’s hand in mine. I looked at her palm. “You vill liff for a very long time,” I told her. “Vun day, you vill get a cat … no, a kitten. Oh, and you vill pr-r-robably make lots uff money.”
“Thank you,” said Melody.
“You are velcome.”
At two-fifteen, our carnival was gigundo busy. Kids had come and gone. A lot of kids from Ms. Colman’s class had arrived.
“Cool! A dart-throw!” exclaimed Bobby.
“What’s the duck pond?” asked Jannie.
“Aw, that’s a baby game,” said Pamela. “All you do is pick up a duck, turn it over, and see what number is on the bottom. Then you match the number to a prize. Come on. I’ll buy you a friendship bracelet.” (Pamela is so bossy.)