I couldn’t help it. I began to cry.
“I’m sorry!” I said. I ran out of the kitchen.
“Look out, Karen!” I heard Andrew shout from behind me.
Too late. I tripped over Rocky and stepped on his tail. I hadn’t even seen him.
“MROW!” cried Rocky angrily. He turned around and began licking his tail.
I couldn’t blame him for being mad. I flopped on the couch in the living room and cried and cried. Soon I felt someone sit down next to me. Then Mommy’s voice said, “Don’t worry, honey. I called Doctor Gourson today. I made an appointment for you to see him on Thursday.”
I nodded miserably. I didn’t want glasses. Not at all. But I felt terrible about Rocky. And besides, my head really did hurt. So did my eyes.
The Ophthalmologist
The only good thing about going to Dr. Gourson was that my appointment was at twelve-thirty in the afternoon. I got to miss over two hours of school. Even though I like school, a little vacation is always nice. I felt very important when Ms. Colman looked at her watch and said it was time to go meet Mommy. Everyone else was stuck working on subtraction problems. I got to put on my jacket and leave. I knew my classmates were watching me and wishing they could leave, too. Mommy and I had to sit for a very long time in the waiting room at Dr. Gourson’s office. I never understand that. How come doctors always tell you to come so early? It is a gigundo waste of time.
“Mommy, I’m bored,” I said. I wished Andrew were there, but he was staying with Mrs. Dawes while we were at Dr. Gourson’s.
Mommy gave me a pad of paper and a pencil. “Why don’t you draw some pictures?” she suggested.
I drew a picture of everyone in my two families. Then I put glasses on each person. Except me.
A nurse came to the doorway of the waiting room. “Karen Brewer?” he said.
Mommy and I stood up. We followed the nurse into a dim room. Lots and lots of machines and equipment were in it.
“Have a seat right here,” said the nurse. Then he left.
I climbed into a big chair. It was like a dentist’s chair.
Mommy sat on a regular chair nearby.
Dr. Gourson made us wait a while longer. At last he came in.
“Hi,” he said. “I’m Doctor Gourson. You must be Karen.”
I nodded.
Mommy and Dr. Gourson already knew each other. They said hello. Then they talked about me and my eyes. Finally, Dr. Gourson pointed to a chart on the wall across the room. At the top of the chart were some big E’s. They looked like this:
“Show me which way the E’s are pointing,” said the doctor.
So I did. That was easy. See? I didn’t need glasses after all.
Next Dr. Gourson said, “Karen, how old are you?”
“Six,” I replied.
“And do you know the letters in the alphabet?” he asked.
“Of course I do. Mommy told you I can read,” I said to him. What a silly question.
“Karen,” said Mommy warningly.
“Sorry,” I told the doctor.
“That’s quite all right,” he replied. “Then start with the top row of letters and read down as far as you can.”
I began reading. I read one row. Two rows. By the third row, the letters were a big blur.
“I can’t read anymore,” I had to tell Dr. Gourson. “But it isn’t because I can’t read. It’s just that I can’t see those little letters from way back here.”
“Okay,” replied the doctor. Then he did a whole lot of other things with my eyes.
First he put drops in them. The drops made my eyes run.
Then he looked at my eyes through all sorts of instruments. I didn’t have to do anything but sit there, or, sometimes roll my eyes around, while he looked.
At last he said, “Karen? Mrs. Engle? You may go back to the waiting room now.” (The waiting room? Again?) “The nurse will call you in a little while and we can talk about Karen’s eyes.”
Oh, goody. Hurray. Just what I wanted.
The waiting room was even more boring this time than before. That was because those drops had made my eyes so blurry that I could hardly see. I couldn’t read or draw pictures or do anything.
So Mommy read to me while we waited.
Karen’s Glasses
“Karen Brewer?” said the nurse again. Mommy and I stood up, and Mommy followed the nurse back to Dr. Gourson’s office. She had to lead me by the hand. I could not see where I was going.
Dr. Gourson was sitting behind a desk in his office. Mommy and I sat on the other side of the desk. I sat in Mommy’s lap.
“Well, Karen does need glasses,” Dr. Gourson began. “She needs them pretty badly.”
“Just for reading?” I asked hopefully. “Like Daddy and Seth?”
“No, I’m afraid not. You’ll need them for reading and for all the time. In fact, you’ll need two pairs of glasses.”
“Two pairs!” I exclaimed. What would I do with two pairs of glasses?
“Yes, ” said the doctor. “You’ll need one pair of glasses to help you see clearly when you’re reading or doing other things up close. You’ll need a second pair to help you see clearly the rest of the time.”
I couldn’t believe it. Glasses. I would never look like a movie star if I had to wear glasses. I almost began to cry, but I stopped myself.
Dr. Gourson gave Mommy a slip of paper. “These are the prescriptions for Karen’s lenses,” he told her. “There’s an optometrist right here in the building, and — ”
“What’s an optometrist?” I interrupted.
“He’s a person who makes glasses,” said Dr. Gourson. “You can choose the frames you like. Then the optometrist will put the right lenses into them so that you’ll be able to see.”
Mommy and I left Dr. Gourson’s office. We walked down a hallway. Mommy opened a door with some blurry letters on it. We went inside and she stepped up to a desk. A woman was standing behind the desk.
“Hello,” Mommy said to the woman. “I am Mrs. Engle. This is my daughter, Karen. We have just come from Doctor Gourson’s office. Karen needs two pairs of glasses.” She handed the woman the slip of paper.
The woman looked at me and smiled. “Two pairs of glasses for Karen Engle,” she said.
“Brewer,” I corrected her. (That is another problem with being a two-two.)
Mommy explained about our names. Then the woman gave the prescription to the optometrist. When she came back, she said, “Let’s look at frames. What kind of glasses do you want, Karen?”
“No glasses, ” I told her.
“Karen,” said Mommy.
“Sorry,” I said. “Um, I don’t know what kind of glasses I want.”
“Well, I’ll show you some things. You will probably want different frames so that you can tell your reading glasses from your other glasses.”
“Okay,” I said.
“Come sit here,” said the woman. She led me to a counter and lifted me onto a stool. My eyes were starting to clear up from the drops. I could see racks and racks of glasses frames on the counter. In front of me was a big mirror.
I tried on lots of glasses. I tried on white ones. I tried on round tan ones like Mommy’s and square brown ones like Daddy’s and gold-rimmed ones like Seth’s.
“Yuck,” I said about each pair.
Then the woman showed me a pair of pink glasses.
“Pink!” I exclaimed. “I can get pink glasses?!”
“They come in blue, too,” said the woman. “A nice pale blue.”
“I’ll take them!” I said.
Mommy and the lady smiled.
When the optometrist had put the lenses in my glasses, Mommy and I walked out to the car. I put on my pink glasses. My blue glasses were going to be the ones for reading.
“I cannot believe it!” I cried. “Everything looks so much clearer. Brighter, too.”
I knew I would never be a movie star now, but it was nice to see clearly again.
Glas
ses Everywhere!
Mommy and I got home just after school let out. I spent most of the afternoon trying on my two pairs of glasses and looking at myself in the mirror. “I do not look so bad,” I said to Goosie. Goosie was in the bathroom with me. I held him up to the mirror. “See? I do not look bad at all. I still look pretty much like Karen Brewer — wearing glasses.”
Before I left school that day, Ms. Colman had given me my homework. I took it into the kitchen when Mommy began making dinner.
Mommy stood at the kitchen counter, reading a recipe. She was wearing her tan glasses.
I sat at the table with my workbook. I was wearing my blue glasses. (The words in the workbook were nice and clear.)
I thought of Seth and Daddy at work. They were probably wearing their glasses.
When Andrew came into the kitchen with his fire truck, I realized something.
“Hey, Andrew!” I exclaimed. “You’re the only person at the little house who doesn’t wear glasses. There are glasses everywhere!”
“So?” said Andrew. He sounded cross.
“Don’t be mad,” I told him. “It’s okay if you don’t need glasses. Hey, Mommy, this workbook page is really easy. I can read every single word.”
“Good,” said Mommy. “That sounds like my old Karen.”
I finished my workbook pages in record time. Mommy checked them. I had answered every question right!
I put my workbook away. Then I took off my blue glasses and put on my pink ones. I looked at myself in the bathroom mirror again. This time I tried out my movie-star smile. Even with glasses it looked okay.
“Mommy!” I called. “Can I go over to Nancy’s and show her my glasses?”
“Yes,” she replied. “But be home in half an hour. It’s almost dinnertime.”
“Okay!”
I ran out our front door, across our lawn, across Nancy’s driveway, and along the walk to her front door. I was still wearing my pink glasses. I was carrying the blue ones in a case that the optometrist had given Mommy and me for free.
Ding-dong!
Nancy answered the door.
“Hi, Karen!” she cried. “Oh, you got them!”
I nodded. “Do you like them?”
“You know what? You don’t look that different.”
“I don’t?”
“Nope.”
That was good to know. “But do you like them?” I asked again.
“Sure,” replied Nancy. “They’re neat.”
“Can I come in? I’ll show you the other pair. I had to get two pairs.”
Nancy let me inside. I modeled the blue glasses for her. Then I modeled both pairs of glasses for her mother. Then her father came home. I modeled them for him, too.
Mrs. Dawes said I looked lovely.
Mr. Dawes said I looked dashing.
I went home. I modeled my glasses for Seth. He said I looked grown up.
I was feeling a lot better about wearing glasses.
That night, I tried the pink glasses on Goosie. I tried the blue ones on my stuffed elephant. Then I took them off and put them on two of my dolls.
“Hey, Andrew!” I called. “Come here.”
Andrew came into my room. He looked at the dolls. “See?” he said as I took the glasses off the dolls. “I am not the only one around here who does not wear glasses.”
We laughed. “Rocky and Midgie don’t wear them, either,” I pointed out.
When Andrew left, I looked through the clothes in my closet. I decided that the next day I would wear my jeans and my unicorn shirt to school. The shirt is pink and blue with a white satin unicorn on the front. No matter which pair of glasses I wore, they would match my outfit. I would not look like a movie star, but I would look lovely and dashing and grown up.
I was ready for school.
Yicky Ricky
The next morning, I woke up with a funny feeling in my stomach. “Mommy?” I said, when I went into the kitchen for breakfast. “I don’t feel too good. My stomach feels jumpy.”
“Does it hurt?” she asked. She put her hand on my forehead to see if I had a fever.
“No,” I replied.
“Are you nervous about wearing your glasses to school today?”
“Yes.”
Mommy smiled. “It won’t be so bad. Your friends have seen other kids in glasses.”
“They haven’t seen me,” I told her.
But when I got to school, it wasn’t too bad. Nancy and Hannie and I were the first ones to reach our classroom. Even Ms. Colman wasn’t there.
Nancy had already seen my glasses, so she didn’t say anything about them. But Hannie said, “Oh, cool! Pink glasses!”
“Do you really like them?” I asked.
“I really do.”
The other kids started to arrive. Some of them didn’t even notice my glasses. Two of them just said, “Oh, Karen, you got glasses.”
Then Ms. Colman came in.
“Why, Karen,” she said. “I like your glasses very much.”
“So do I,” said Natalie Springer. Natalie Springer is in my class, too. She is the only other person who wears glasses. Hers have gold rims. Natalie has worn glasses since before kindergarten.
“Thank you,” I said to Ms. Colman and Natalie. Then I added, “Guess what. I have two pairs of glasses. I have blue ones for reading and these pink ones for the rest of the time.”
“Gosh,” said Natalie. She looked impressed.
But nobody else was paying much attention. Whew!
Then Ricky Torres came in. He saw me and my glasses right away.
“Ooh-ooh. Four-eyes!” he cried. “Hey, Karen. Are you just blind or are you as blind as an ugly old bat?”
“You are so dumb, Ricky,” I said. “I am not blind at all. With my glasses on, I can see just fine. And besides, I think it’s mean to tease about being blind. What if I really were blind?”
Ricky has hated me ever since the time I broke my wrist and he broke his ankle. We got casts at the same time. Each of us got lots of people to sign our casts. Ricky even got some baseball player to sign his. But I got a witch and an actress and Mr. Tastee to sign my cast. The witch was old Mrs. Porter who lives next door to Daddy. The actress was a friend of Mommy’s. And Mr. Tastee drives the Mr. Tastee ice-cream truck all over town. The kids in our class liked my autographs better than Ricky’s.
Ricky has never forgiven me for that.
“Blind as a bat,” Ricky said one more time, just to make me mad.
I looked at Ms. Colman. She was writing on the chalkboard. Her back was turned, so I stuck my tongue out at Ricky.
He did not stick his out at me, though. Instead he said, “School pictures are coming up, Miss Movie Star Brewer. Just think how your picture will look now.”
I hadn’t thought about that, but I didn’t see what the big problem was.
“So I won’t wear my glasses when the photographer takes my picture, Mr. Smarty pants,” I whispered loudly to Ricky. “You are so stupid. I can take my glasses off for a minute.”
Ms. Colman clapped her hands. “Okay, class. Take your seats, please.”
I stuck my tongue out at Ricky again. This time he stuck his out at me.
Then we sat down at our desks.
Teacher’s Pet
All morning, Ricky called me Four-eyes and Bat-woman. He only whispered the names, so Ms. Colman wouldn’t hear him. All morning, I tried to ignore him.
That was not too hard.
First of all, we had art class. I just love art class. It is gigundo fun. Mr. Mackey comes into our room with his art cart, which is loaded with very wonderful supplies: paint and paper and crayons and glue and Magic Markers and scraps of things. Then he tells us what we are going to make.
“Today,” he said, “we will make outer space pictures.”
I wore my pink glasses while I listened to Mr. Mackey. I switched to my blue ones when I began my picture.
“Bat-woman!” whispered Ricky.
I pretended I didn’t h
ear him. When I had finished my picture, I put my pink glasses back on.
Soon art class was over. Ms. Colman gave us two worksheets full of subtraction problems. I switched from my pink to my blue glasses.
“Four-eyes!” said Ricky.
I was getting a little bit mad. But Hannie nudged me. She passed me a note which I opened up in my lap. With my glasses on, I could read it perfectly. It said: Yicky Ricky is picky and sticky.
I tried not to giggle.
Then I worked very hard on my subtraction problems. And guess what — after lunch, Ms. Colman gave our worksheets back. I got 100 percent on both of them. Two 100 percents!
“I’m very proud of you, Karen,” said Ms. Colman.
In reading class, I followed all the directions on the board and I did all of my work perfectly. I had to switch my glasses a lot, so Ricky called me Four-eyes and Bat-woman about five times. But what did I care? I got 100 percents on everything!
At the end of the day, Ms. Colman called me to her desk. It was Free Reading time, and I was just starting a book about a bear named Paddington. I hated to put it down.
But I hated even more to hear what Ms. Colman said: “Karen, I am going to move you to the front row of the classroom.”
“But why?” I cried. Had she seen Hannie pass me the note? Hannie and Nancy and I had tried so hard to be good. “I’ve been good.” I told her. “At least, I have tried to be good.”
That was the honest truth.
“Karen, this doesn’t have anything to do with being good or bad,” Ms. Colman told me. “It’s because of your eyes. You’ll see better up front. I’ve noticed how many times you had to switch your glasses today.”
I nodded. That had been a pain.
“So please take your things out of your desk. You will be trading desks with Hank Reubens. He can move to your old seat. I’ll talk to him while you clear out your desk.”
I thought of saying that I did not want to trade with Hank Reubens, but you don’t argue with teachers. Even one as nice as Ms. Colman.