Karen's Big Weekend

  “That is where the Christmas tree is,” said Mommy.

  We walked along a bustling street. I tried to read the street signs. We were on Fifth Avenue. I knew that was famous.

  Mommy and Seth kept pointing things out. “There’s Brentano’s Bookstore. There’s St. Patrick’s Cathedral. There’s Saks Fifth Avenue.”

  Andrew and I were trying to peer in the windows of Saks, which is a very big department store, when Seth said, “Okay, kids. Turn around and look across the street.”

  Andrew and I turned. I gasped. There it was. The Christmas tree. It was covered with lights, thousands of them. A star shone on the top. I was sure it was the biggest Christmas tree in the world.

  “Let’s cross the street so we can see better,” suggested Mommy.

  When we had crossed the street we stood on the edge of the sidewalk. I looked between a double row of angels playing trumpets. I could see the tree at the other end. But something was between the angels and the tree. We walked closer. The ice-skating rink! The tree stood over a skating rink. Now I remembered it from Roxie Munroe’s pictures. Far below us the skaters glided and turned and slipped and slid. Above them the tree shone. I was sure I was in the most wonderful and Christmasy place ever.

  After we had watched the skaters for awhile Mommy said, “Is anybody hungry? Let’s get a special treat.”

  I clutched Mommy’s hand as we walked back toward the street. Mommy stopped by a man with a pushcart. “Four pretzels, please,” she said. “Two plain, two with mustard.”

  The man handed us the pretzels and Mommy paid him. My pretzel was gigundo! They all were. And it was salty and warm and … soft. I had never eaten a soft pretzel. Only hard, crunchy ones.

  We returned to Fifth Avenue and walked along the street again.

  We saw Christmas trees and candles and menorahs in almost every window. Then, suddenly, I looked up. Hanging above my head was an enormous glittery snowflake. Just hanging in the air over an intersection. (Everything about New York seemed big.)

  “There it is,” said Seth. “There is New York’s snowflake.”

  Behind it, at the entrance to a park, was another big decoration. It was a giant menorah, much taller even than Seth. I looked at the menorah. I looked back at the snowflake. I thought of the Christmas tree. “I just love New York,” I announced.

  Mommy smiled at me. “I’m glad you are having fun,” she said.

  “Okay, let’s go shopping,” I replied.

  We looked in some of the stores near the snowflake, but I did not see any presents that looked just right for Nancy and Hannie. Oh, well. We were going to be in New York for two more days. We would have plenty of time to shop.

  Where Is Andrew?

  After we had finished our pretzels, and looked at the snowflake and the menorah and some stores, it was Andrew’s naptime. He was cranky. But no one wanted to go back to the hotel, including Andrew.

  “Maybe you just need a little rest,” Mommy said to him. “Why don’t we go to Lord and Taylor to look at their Christmas windows. But instead of walking there we will take the bus. That way you can sit down for a little while.”

  I thought this was a great idea. I wanted to see what the inside of a New York City bus looked like. And in just a few minutes we were on one, riding back down Fifth Avenue the way we had come. I liked the bus a lot. The seats faced the aisle, not the driver. You could kneel backward in your seat and look out the window. And the bus had two doors, one in front and one in back. Plus, when someone wanted to get off, he pulled on a rope, a bell rang, and the driver stopped the bus.

  As we rolled down Fifth Avenue, Mommy and Seth pointed out some of the things we had already seen. “There is the tree again! There is St. Patrick’s! There is Brentano’s Bookstore!” Then Mommy pointed out something new. “There is the Public Library,” she said. “See the lions?”

  “Lions? What lions?” Andrew sat up fast. He had been lying down with his head in Seth’s lap. But now he peered out the window.

  So did I. My brother and I saw two great stone lions perched in front of a wide building with lots of steps.

  “I thought you meant real lions,” said Andrew. But he did not sound disappointed. He looked and looked at those lions. They were wearing Christmas wreaths around their necks.

  “I think they are guarding the library,” I said to Mommy.

  “Oh, there is Lord and Taylor!” exclaimed Mommy. “Come on. Everybody off the bus!”

  We scrambled toward the back door and hopped down the steps. We found ourselves in front of a department store.

  “Another store?” whined Andrew.

  “Yes, but we are not going inside it. What we want to see is right out here. In the windows. Let’s get on line,” said Mommy.

  In Stoneybrook the store windows look very pretty at Christmastime. But people do not line up to see them. The people in front of Lord and Taylor stood in a line that wound around like the ones at Disney World. We waited and waited. As soon as I saw the first window I understood why everyone else wanted to see the windows, too.

  “Ooh,” I gasped.

  I was holding Mommy’s hand. We were looking at the inside of a fancy house at Christmastime. I forgot it was just a window decoration. People moved. A puppy jumped up and down. The lights on a tree blinked on and off. The next window looked like a winter wonderland with children skating on a pond and building a snowman and throwing snowballs. Another window showed an old-fashioned general store.

  I could have gazed in the windows for hours, but the line kept moving, and soon we had walked past the store. I looked around me. Then I looked up at Mommy and Seth.

  “What did you think?” asked Seth.

  “That was great,” I said. “But where is Andrew?”

  We did not see him.

  Andrew was missing.

  Santa Claus

  Mommy and Seth and I looked up and down the sidewalk. Seth dashed around a corner. “I do not see him!” he cried when he ran back.

  “Andrew! Andrew!” Mommy and Seth and I called. “Andrew!”

  “Wait a minute,” I said. “I have an idea.” I ducked back into that crowd of people. I pushed past their legs. I ignored them when they cried, “Hey! Watch it!” When I was standing in front of the windows again, I looked from side to side. There was Andrew. He was still staring at the winter wonderland.

  “Andrew!” I exclaimed. I hauled him back to Mommy and Seth.

  Guess what. They scolded both of us.

  “Do not let go of our hands,” said Mommy. “Ever. Either of you.”

  “Well, not on the street,” said Seth. “Or in stores.”

  “We have to stick together,” Mommy went on.

  And Seth said sternly, “Do you understand?”

  “Yes,” Andrew and I replied. Then I added, “Isn’t anyone going to thank me for finding Andrew?”

  Mommy finally smiled. “Thank you very much, Karen.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  And Andrew said, “I like those windows. I am not tired anymore.”

  “Great,” said Mommy. “How would you like to visit Santa?”

  “Santa Claus?” squeaked Andrew.

  “Right now?” I asked.

  “Well, in a few minutes,” said Seth. “We are going to another store. We will take a cab to it.”

  The taxi driver let us off in front of a store called Macy’s.

  “Macy’s!” I cried. “I know about Macy’s. They put on the Thanksgiving Day parade every year. Andrew, you and I always watch that on television. Santa Claus is at the end of the parade. And — and — Oh! I remember something else,” I chattered as we entered the store. “I saw a movie on TV last weekend. I saw it with Kristy at the big house. It was called Miracle on Thirty-fourth Street. And there was this little girl who — ”

  “Karen,” said Mommy quietly.

  “What?”

  “Settle down. You are wound up tighter than a tick.”

  “Sorry.”

&nb
sp; Mommy was right. I was not paying attention to anything. I was missing the sparkly gold and white decorations. I was missing the singers who were caroling in the store. But I did not miss Santa Claus.

  Santa would have been hard to miss. About a million other people wanted to see him, too. They were waiting on a long line.

  “Another store, another line,” said Andrew. He yawned. But he kept craning his neck around to keep an eye on Santa. Finally he asked, “Is this the real Santa, Karen?”

  I thought for a moment. Andrew and I had seen a lot of Santas that day. We had seen them on street corners. We had seen one in the train station. We had even seen a man in a Santa suit on the bus. I did not want to lie to my brother, so I replied, “I think he is another one of Santa’s helpers. He is probably Santa’s right-hand man. He must be the chief helper.”

  Andrew nodded. “Okay,” he said. When it was his turn to talk to Santa, he said, “Hi, chief. Merry Christmas!”

  Big Bucks

  Andrew told the Santa Claus he wanted his very own radio for Christmas.

  “Ho, ho!” cried Santa. “A radio! Okay, merry Christmas to you!”

  “ ’Bye, chief!” called Andrew as we walked toward the elevator. Then he turned to Mommy and Seth and me. He said, “He was pretty good for a Santa’s helper.”

  “Hmm. You know what I just remembered?” I replied. “I just remembered that in that movie, Miracle on Thirty-fourth Street, the Macy’s Santa Claus turned out to be the real one after all.”

  “Honest?” said Andrew, his eyes wide. “You mean I just met the real Santa? The real, real Santa Claus?”

  “Maybe,” I told him.

  On our way out of Macy’s we looked around the store. I had been keeping my eye out for presents for Hannie and Nancy. Most of the things we saw were for adults. I did see some kids’ clothes, but the sweaters I liked cost over fifty dollars each.

  By the time we left Macy’s, Andrew was bouncing around like a pogo stick. He did not seem to need a nap at all. So Mommy said, “Let’s keep going then. Let’s not head back to the hotel yet.”

  Guess where we went. We went to that snowflake again. Well, not right to it, but nearby. Mommy and Seth wanted to look in this fancy hotel called the Plaza.

  “Remember the story about Eloise?” said Mommy. “This is where she lived. In the Plaza Hotel.” Mommy showed us a drawing of Eloise that was hanging in a hallway off the lobby.

  After we looked at the fancy rugs and fancy lights and fancy hotel guests, we left the Plaza. We went across the street to a store called FAO Schwarz. It was a toy store.

  “Perfect!” I said. “I will buy my holiday presents here.”

  But I did not. I did not buy anything. The toys were lots of fun. But most of them were way, way too expensive. I also did not buy anything in a place called Trump Tower.

  “Everything costs big bucks,” I announced loudly. I pouted.

  “I think it is time to go back to the hotel,” said Seth.

  Meeting the Medvins

  By the time we had returned to the hotel I felt better. That was because it was time to change our clothes and go to … Maxie’s! Mommy and I put on dresses and party shoes. Seth and Andrew put on suits. But Andrew would not wear a necktie.

  “Not even your clip-on?” asked Seth.

  Andrew shook his head. Then he coughed. “They strangle me,” he said. He coughed some more.

  “Okay, okay,” said Seth.

  Maxie lives in an apartment building in an area called the Upper West Side. When our taxi stopped in front of her building a man in a uniform greeted us. He opened our doors and asked us who we were visiting.

  “We are here to see my pen pal, Maxie Medvin,” I told him.

  The man walked us into the building. Then we stood in the lobby while another man picked up a phone, pressed a button, and said, “Good evening, Mr. Medvin. Your company is here.” He turned to Seth and said, “Name, please.”

  “Karen Brewer and family,” replied Seth.

  Finally the man let us go upstairs. “Apartment Fourteen-B,” he said. “Take the elevator on your left.”

  My heavens. We did not even have to push a button when we stepped on that elevator. An elevator operator did it for us. I had never seen so many helpful people.

  The elevator stopped at the fourteenth floor. We walked to apartment 14-B. Before I could ring the bell, the door flew open. There stood Maxie. “Hi!” she shrieked. “Hi, pen pal! Hi, Karen!”

  “Maxie!” I shrieked back. We threw our arms around each other. We shrieked until the grown-ups told us to settle down. Then we both tried to introduce our families at the same time.

  Here are the people in Maxie’s family: Maxie, her parents, Kathryn, Leslie, Benjie, and Doug. Kathryn and Leslie are Maxie’s sisters. They are the twins. They are thirteen. Benjie and Doug are her adopted brothers. Benjie is two. Doug is only a few months old. They were born in South America.

  Maxie showed me around her apartment. “Here is my room,” she said. “I share it with Kathryn and Leslie. And here is the boys’ room. That’s my parents’ room. There’s the living room. This is the kitchen, of course. And this room is whatever we need it to be — the TV room or the playroom or the guest room.”

  We went back to Maxie’s room. Do you know what? It was not very different from my room at the little house in Stoneybrook, even though it was a bedroom smack in the middle of New York City. The big difference was the beds. In my room is one bed. In Maxie’s room are two sets of bunk beds — enough beds for Maxie, Kathryn, Leslie, and a sleepover friend. But Maxie’s walls are decorated with posters, like mine. The bookcase is crammed with books, like mine. The beds are covered with stuffed animals, like mine.

  Maxie and I sat on her floor. We began a game of jacks. Then Mr. Medvin called, “Maxie! Karen! Time to go!”

  “Time for Mamma Leones!” I said.

  We rushed into the living room. Everyone was putting on their coats. Everyone except Benjie and Doug. They were staying at home with a baby-sitter. Then we stuffed ourselves into the elevator. Nine of us. I hoped that elevator was good and strong.

  A Grand Lady

  The elevator was just fine. It carried us safely to the lobby.

  “On to Mamma Leones,” said Mr. Medvin. He hailed two cabs. Mommy, Andrew, Mrs. Medvin, Kathryn, and Leslie squished into one cab. (Andrew had to sit on somebody’s lap.) Seth, Mr. Medvin, Maxie, and I climbed into the other cab.

  “Mamma Leones, please,” said Mr. Medvin. “West Forty-fourth Street.”

  I had heard Mamma Leones advertised on the radio lots of times. The ads said to enjoy a wonderful meal at a fine Italian restaurant and then take in the Christmas show at Radio City Music Hall. (Or something like that.) I thought this sounded like a fine way to celebrate the holidays. I was very excited about our evening.

  Guess what. The inside of Mamma Leones reminded me a lot of New York City. It was big and crowded and noisy. It was perfect.

  “Ooh,” I said when we stepped into the restaurant.

  A waiter showed us to our table. It was very long. (I think it was two tables pushed together.) Four of us sat on one side, four sat on the other side, and Mr. Medvin sat at one end. Maxie and I sat next to each other and pretended we were twins.

  “Let’s pretend we speak French, too,” I added.

  “Okay,” replied Maxie. “Voosee vahsee chacha?”

  “Oh, oui, non, vavoo, beebay,” I said.

  But then the waiter confused us, because he spoke Italian. Real Italian. He did not understand our made-up French. He barely understood our English. Real English. He wrote down our order, though. Maxie and Andrew and I ordered spaghetti. We just love fine Italian food.

  I have never seen so much food in my life. It kept coming and coming and coming that night. Bread and salad and a plate of something called antipasto. (Andrew liked that because there were lots of olives, so he looked for one with a hole through it and tried to play it like a whistle.) Then we ate our main
course, and then dessert. The grown-ups ordered coffee, too.

  By the time we left, I was stuffed. And Seth said, ”You could roll me to Radio City Music Hall.”

  At Radio City we found another crowd of people. Inside, we found even more people. People, people everywhere. When the ticket person had looked at our tickets, we started to climb a flight of stairs. Up and up we went. I thought we would climb forever.

  “How high are we going?” I asked Mommy.

  “You’ll see,” she replied.

  And suddenly we stopped climbing. We walked through a door. An usher checked our tickets and led us down an aisle. And I said, “Oh, my goodness.”

  I was looking over the edge of a balcony at the stage below us. Our balcony curved halfway around the theatre. Above us and below us were more balconies. All I could see were seats and people’s heads and lots of red and gold. I felt like a very grand lady.

  Then the show started. I was caught up in a Christmas world — Santa and elves and trees and presents. Plus, real animals paraded across the stage. My favorites were the camels.

  “That was wonderful,” I said to Maxie, when the show was over.

  “The best,” she agreed. “I am glad we could see it together.”

  “And I am glad we will see each other again tomorrow.”

  That night I fell asleep in my bed at the hotel. For just a moment, I remembered that I had not found presents for Nancy and Hannie yet. Then I thought, I am sure I will find them tomorrow.

  Ice Skates

  When I woke up the next morning, I looked around our hotel room. I still felt like a grand lady — even if I was sharing a bed with Andrew. (I do not like to do that. It is like sleeping with an eggbeater.) I wondered what we were going to do that morning. I found out as soon as Mommy woke up.

  She said, “Karen, Andrew, do you remember the ice skaters we saw when we looked at the big Christmas tree yesterday?”

  “Yes,” we replied.

  “Well, we could go skating this morning. We can rent ice skates there.”