Karen's Witch

  “Nope,” I replied. (I was surprised.)

  Bart and Andrew and I stood in our backyard. “You know what?” said Bart. “Your yard is perfect for sledding.”

  “It is?” I said. “But we do not have a hill.”

  “You have a slope,” said Bart. “And that is perfect.”

  Bart showed us how to trample down a track for sledding. He started at the highest point in our yard. Then stamp, stamp, stamp. He stamped a path from there down to the lowest part. He packed the snow with his boots. Andrew and I followed him, stamping, too. After that, Bart added some snow to the higher part, making it even higher. Then he stamped the new snow down.

  We stood back to admire our sledding track.

  “Now,” said Bart, “what do you have to sled on besides a sled? We do not want anything with runners. The runners will ruin the track.”

  “We have a saucer,” said Andrew.

  “And a toboggan,” I added.

  “Great,” said Bart. “Did you know you can even use a tray?” He found an old tray in the kitchen and brought that outside, too.

  We had been sliding on the track for about ten minutes when Nancy came over. She brought her new pink saucer.

  “Cool sledding track!” she said.

  Pretty soon Kathryn and Willie came over. (They live across the street.) They brought their toboggan. A few minutes later Bobby Gianelli came over with his sled. Now here is the thing about Bobby. He is also in Ms. Colman’s class with Nancy and me. And he is a bully.

  I ran to Bart. I tugged at his sleeve. “Bart, Bobby is here. He is going to ruin everything. He — ”

  “He just wants to play, Karen,” said Bart.

  “But he brought his sled. It has runners. You said no runners.”

  Bart cleared his throat. “Attention! Attention, please!” he cried. Andrew and Nancy and Kathryn and Willie and Bobby and I gathered around Bart. “We will now hold the Winter Olympics,” Bart went on. “The first event is the two-person toboggan race.”

  All afternoon we slid around our yard. Bart made up one event after another for the Olympics. Bobby’s sled was not used in a single one. So Bobby could not ruin our track with his runners.

  By the time Mommy and Seth came home, our friends had left. We had taken our things off and left them in a pile by the back door. Seth and Mommy looked at the pile (and at some puddles nearby), but they did not say anything.

  Bermuda

  When Bart left our house, Mommy and Seth made dinner. They warmed up a big pot of vegetable stew. That was the perfect dinner. Andrew and I were cold because we had been playing in the snow. The stew warmed us up. Also, Andrew and I traded vegetables. He gave me his carrots and I gave him my cauliflower.

  After dinner, I decided to work on my collage. I sat at the table in my room. I spread out the stuff I had collected. Then I looked at the things I had already glued onto a sheet of oaktag — some sequins, four noodles (not cooked), some scraps of velvet, and a patch of glitter (blue and green).

  “Hmm,” I said to myself. “What this collage needs is pictures.”

  I ran downstairs. I found a stack of newspapers that we were going to recycle. I took one of them back to my room with me.

  “Now let me see,” I said. “Here is a picture of a man giving an award to a woman. That is not very interesting. And here is a picture of a building. That is not very interest— Oh, here is a picture of a dog and a cat who are best friends. Now that will be good for the collage.”

  I cut out the picture. Then I found one of a girl planting a tree. I cut that out, too. I turned a page in the paper. And there, spread across two whole pages was a beautiful color picture of a beach. (All the other pictures were black and white.)

  “Ooh,” I said softly.

  In the picture, a man and a woman and two children were walking along a beach. The sand was white. The water behind them was bright blue. So was the sky. The people in the family were wearing their bathing suits. The kids were holding seashells. One of them was pointing to a palm tree. They were laughing.

  The writing at the top of these pages read: DO YOU HAVE THE WINTER BLAHS? WIN A TRIP TO BERMUDA! VISIT THE ISLAND OF YOUR DREAMS.

  I would not mind going to Bermuda, I thought. Snow is fun, but I bet the beach would be fun right now, too. I imagined myself walking along the sand with that family, looking for seashells. Then I imagined myself sailing in a little boat on the water. Then I imagined Bart there with me. I bet Bart could make Bermuda really fun. He would think of great games to play on the beach. And he would probably know how to make gigundoly wonderful sand castles.

  I began to cut out the picture of the palm tree. It would look perfect on my collage. But suddenly I stopped. I had thought of something. I should enter the contest. If I won, then I really could go to Bermuda with Bart.

  I read the ad for the contest. The contest was being held by a store in Stoneybrook. The winner would be chosen soon, but I still had time to enter. The trip to Bermuda was the grand prize. There was a first prize and then there were some second and third prizes, too. But I did not care about them. I just wanted to go to Bermuda.

  At the bottom of the ad was a coupon to fill out. I was about to write down my name and address when I saw some teeny-tiny writing. It said: Must be eighteen or older to enter. Well, that was pretty silly. A person did not have to be eighteen to know how to fill out that form. I am only seven, and I know how to write my name and address. So I did. Then I cut out the form and put it in an envelope. I would mail it the next day.

  I crossed my fingers for good luck. Then I worked on my collage some more.

  The Incredible Journey

  On Wednesday, Bart was our baby-sitter again.

  When he rang the bell, I let him inside.

  “Hi, guys!” said Bart. He took off his coat. Then he almost knocked over that plant stand again. (Bart has awfully long legs. I heard Mommy say he is gangly. I wonder if that means clumsy.) Anyway, luckily for Miss Fern, I caught the stand just in time.

  “Whoa, thanks,” said Bart. “Sorry, plant.”

  “Her name is Miss Fern,” I told him.

  “Sorry, Miss Fern.”

  Mommy said Bart and Andrew and I could have a snack. So after she left we got out the brownies we had baked. We ate them with milk. That is really the only way to enjoy a brownie.

  “So, you guys. What’s going on?” asked Bart.

  “Not much,” replied Andrew.

  “I am making a collage,” I said.

  “Cool,” said Bart. He paused. “What are you doing this weekend?”

  Andrew smiled. “I am going to a birthday party!” he said proudly. “Saturday is Greg’s party and he is turning five. A magician is coming. Greg said he is going to pull handkerchiefs out of his mouth.”

  “Gross,” I said.

  “Decent,” Bart said. “Karen, what are you doing this weekend?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know. I did not make any plans. Maybe I will work on the collage.”

  “Do you want to come over to my house on Saturday?” asked Bart. “I am going to rent a video. It is an old movie called The Incredible Journey. I think you would like it. It is about two dogs and a cat who travel all the way across country to find their owners.”

  I was hardly listening to Bart. I could not believe what he had just said. He had invited me to his house. He had asked me for a date.

  “So do you want to come over?” said Bart again.

  “Sure!” I exclaimed. I wanted to do anything Bart wanted to do.

  After we finished our snack, I ran to my room. I needed to think for a few minutes. I wanted to hug the happy news to myself. But while I was thinking I thought of a problem. How could I go on a date? I am already married. I have a husband named Ricky Torres.

  Karen’s Dream Date

  In case you could not tell, I am not really married. Ricky Torres is my pretend husband. We got married on the playground at school one day. Ricky is in Ms. Colman’s class with Nanc
y and Hannie and me. And he got glasses at the same time I did. I think that is why we became friends. Anyway, later we decided to hold a wedding and get married. He has been my pretend husband ever since.

  I wondered how Ricky would feel if he knew Bart had asked me for a date. I wondered how he would feel if he knew how badly I wanted to go on the date. I decided to try not to think about it.

  When Mommy and Seth came home from work on Wednesday night, I told them Bart had invited me to his house to see a movie on Saturday. (I did not tell them he had asked me for a date, though. That was my own special secret.) Anyway, Mommy said I could go.

  “Yes!” I cried.

  On Thursday morning I could not wait to arrive at school. I wanted to see Hannie and Nancy. When I did, I whispered to them, “I have very exciting news. Let’s have a meeting on the playground today.” (When Hannie and Nancy and I have news to share, we usually gather under a big tree at recess, and hold a meeting, just the three of us.)

  “What is your news?” asked Hannie as soon as we were standing under the tree. She was so excited she was jumping up and down.

  “Well,” I said slowly, “you will not believe this — ”

  “Just tell us, Karen!” cried Nancy.

  “Okay. Bart Taylor asked me for a date. And I think I am in love with him. Oh, I could just faint,” I added.

  Nancy and Hannie began talking at the same time.

  “I thought you were in love with Ricky,” said Nancy.

  “Yeah, he is your husband,” said Hannie.

  “I remember when I was in love with Mr. Howard,” said Nancy. (Mr. Howard was a student teacher. He does not teach our class anymore.)

  “What about Kristy?” asked Hannie. “Isn’t Bart Kristy’s boyfriend?”

  “What kind of date?” asked Nancy.

  “Where are you going?” asked Hannie.

  I did not know what to say first. Finally I told my friends about the date. “Bart invited me over to his house to watch a movie,” I said. “The Incredible Journey. It’s an animal story.”

  “Cool,” said Hannie and Nancy.

  “And I do not know about Kristy and Bart. I do not really think Bart is Kristy’s boyfriend. I think maybe he is just a friend who is a boy. Also,” I went on, “Ricky is my pretend husband. He knows that. Now help me plan for my date, you guys.”

  “Okay,” said Nancy. “When is the date?”

  “On Saturday afternoon,” I replied.

  “What are you going to wear?” asked Hannie.

  “My pink-and-white-striped dress. Do you think I should bring anything to Bart?” I wondered.

  “A corsage,” said Nancy. “That is what girls give boys on dates.”

  “A corsage,” I repeated. “A flower. Okay.”

  “And you have to act grown-up,” added Hannie. “Do not mention second grade or Barbie or snowmen.”

  “All right,” I said. And then I told my friends about the contest and about winning the Winter Blahs Trip to Bermuda. “Going to Bermuda with Bart,” I said, “would be my dream date.”

  The Mess

  Thursday was another fun day with Bart. The sun was shining, so Kathryn and Willie and Bobby and Nancy came over. We held another Winter Olympics. But on Friday, the weather was yucky. The sky was gray, and sleet was falling. It stung my cold cheeks as I ran into the little house after school.

  “Boo,” I said. “Boo and bullfrogs. Now we cannot play outside with Bart.” But that did not matter. When Bart came over, he had more fun ideas for things to do indoors. And then, just as we were about to start a game, the doorbell rang.

  “I’ll get it!” I yelled. (Bart did not tell me to use my indoor voice. He just followed me to the door.)

  Nancy was standing on the porch, shivering in the sleet. “I came over to play,” she said. “Maybe we could have the Indoor Winter Olympics today.” She stepped inside.

  Nancy had not even finished taking off her things when the bell rang again. There were Kathryn and Willie. Soon the doorbell rang a third time. Bully Bobby had come over. I could not believe it.

  I looked at Bart in dismay. But all he said was, “The first event in the Indoor Winter Olympics will be bowling.”

  “Bowling!” I exclaimed. “We do not have enough room for bowling.”

  “Yes, you do. You have a staircase,” said Bart.

  Bart looked around our kitchen. He found ten plastic water bottles. Seth had put them in a paper bag to be recycled. Now Bart set up the bottles on the first four steps of our staircase. Andrew and my friends and I were waiting at the top of the stairs. When Bart was finished, he climbed the steps. He handed each of us a ball. “Now what you do is sit on the top step and drop your ball down the stairs. See how many bottles you can knock over.”

  Andrew went first. He threw his ball too hard. It hit the middle step, bounced, and crashed onto a table down in the living room. (Nothing broke.)

  “Next time, drop the ball,” said Bart. “Don’t throw it.”

  Nancy went next. She dropped her ball carefully, and it knocked over six bottles. Also it got lost downstairs. Bart went looking for it. As he ran through the hallway, he passed by Miss Fern. He knocked into the plant stand, but it did not fall over.

  “Sorry, Miss Fern,” said Bart.

  When we had had enough bowling, Bart made us snacks. He put cheese and tomato slices on crackers. Then he stuck them in the microwave. He called them Cracker Pizzas. We left cracker crumbs and tomato goo all over the kitchen. The crumbs crunched under our feet. Bart said we could clean up the mess later, but he forgot.

  Soon the sky grew dark. Our friends went home. A little later, Mommy and Seth came back.

  “Hi!” Andrew and I cried.

  “Hi …” Mommy was looking around. She looked at the bottles and balls on the living room floor. She looked at the crumbs and the tomato goo in the kitchen. “Bart?” she said.

  “Yes?” replied Bart.

  “I really must ask you to keep the house neater from now on. Seth and I do not like returning to such a mess every day.”

  Yipes! Mommy was scolding Bart! I could not believe it.

  But Bart did not seem upset. He said, “Sorry, Mrs. Engle. Sorry, Mr. Engle. I will try to be neater next week.”

  “Thank you,” replied Mommy. “We would appreciate that.”

  Bart’s Lie

  The next day was Saturday. Andrew was off to the birthday party. “Good-bye!” he called to me as he and Mommy climbed into the car. “When I come back I will have a good bag — and I’m not sharing!”

  “I would not want anything from your goody bag,” I replied. “It would be all covered with cooties.”

  “That is enough, you two,” said Mommy.

  After Andrew left I ran to my room to get dressed. I put on the pink-and-white dress. Then I pulled on white tights, and buckled on my tappy black party shoes. I tied a ribbon in my hair.

  “Now for Bart’s corsage,” I said. On my dresser was a cardboard box. I peeked inside. In it I had put a red plastic rose. I had found the rose with my collage stuff. I had placed it on a lovely bed of blue tissue paper.

  I ran downstairs and put on my coat and boots and hat and mittens. “Ready!” I called to Seth. “I am ready to go!”

  Seth drove me to Bart’s house. I carried the corsage box in my lap. When we reached the Taylors’ I asked Seth if I could go to the door by myself. Nancy and Hannie and I had agreed that waiting at the door by myself would look much more grown-up than standing there with an adult. Seth let me go. (But he waited in the car until he saw Bart.)

  “Good afternoon, Bart,” I said when he opened the door.

  “Hi, Karen,” he replied.

  I stepped inside and looked around. Bart’s home seemed like most other houses — except, of course, that it was Bart’s. That made it special.

  I held out the box to Bart. “This is for you,” I said. I was beginning to wonder where Bart was going to put the corsage. A corsage is supposed to be pinned to a
person’s jacket. But Bart was not wearing a jacket. In fact, he was not very dressed up at all. Wasn’t our date important to him?

  “A present for me?” said Bart. He opened the box. “This is … this is really nice, Karen. Um, what is it?”

  “It is a corsage,” I replied.

  “Oh!” Bart sounded surprised. “Well, I will wear it later, I guess. Come on in the TV room, Karen. Everyone is here.”

  Everyone? Who else was coming on our date?

  I took off my coat and boots and hat and mittens. Bart led me down a hallway and into a small room. I looked inside. I saw Kristy and David Michael.

  “Hi!” called Kristy. “Glad you could come, Karen.”

  I opened my mouth. I closed it again. What were Kristy and David Michael doing there? I began to have a funny feeling about my date. Especially since Kristy and David Michael were not any more dressed up than Bart was. They were wearing jeans and sweat shirts. I was the only person dressed for a party date.

  “Okay, let’s start the movie,” said Bart. He popped it in the VCR. Then he sat on the couch. He sat next to Kristy. And he took her hand. Bart held Kristy’s hand during the entire movie. He never let go of it. (He was supposed to be holding my hand.)

  I could not tell you whether the movie was any good. I do not remember a thing about it. The only thing I do remember is sitting on the floor with David Michael. We were the children, and Bart and Kristy were the big people. At least, that is how I felt.

  I tried not to talk to anybody.

  I could not wait for Seth to come pick me up.

  When I got home, I ran to my room. I flumped down on my bed. I was gigundoly sad. Bart was mean. He had lied to me.

  I was too embarrassed to tell anyone what had happened.

  Mean Bart

  On Sunday, I hardly spoke to anyone. Mostly I stayed in my bedroom. Mommy thought I was coming down with a cold. She was wrong. I was not sick, I was dying. I was dying of a broken heart.

  Guess what. By Monday I was not sad anymore. I was mad. Mad at Bart. When he rang the bell that afternoon, I let Andrew answer the door.