Karen's Big Lie

  This book is for

  Godwin Agbeli

  and my friends in Kopeyia

  Contents

  Title Page

  Dedication

  1 Karen’s School

  2 Karen’s Families

  3 David Michael

  4 The Red 68

  5 The Next Test

  6 The Red 80

  7 Flash Cards

  8 Easy as Pie

  9 The Dragon

  10 Keep Your Eyes on Your Paper

  11 100%

  12 The Three-Legged Race

  13 Emily’s Tattoo

  14 Ricky’s Cold

  15 Karen’s Big Lie

  16 The Stay-at-Home Day

  17 Prizes

  18 The Truth

  19 More Truth

  20 The Picnic

  About the Author

  Also Available

  Copyright

  Karen’s School

  I was in school. I was having a little trouble paying attention. That happens sometimes, even though I like my teacher very much. My teacher’s name is Ms. Colman, and she is gigundoly wonderful. She is my best, best teacher ever. She likes me, too. She is getting married soon, and I am going to be the flower girl in her wedding.

  Ms. Colman was standing at the chalkboard. She was writing numbers on it. Math is not my favorite subject. It is a little hard for me. I am better at reading and writing and science.

  It was a Friday afternoon. I was thinking about the weekend. I was thinking about the warm weather, too. In the courtyard outside our classroom, flowers were blooming. Bees were buzzing back and forth. A yellow butterfly zipped by.

  Next to me, Ricky Torres was scribbling numbers on a piece of paper. Ricky just loves math. I will never know why. Guess what. Ricky is my husband. (Well, he is my pretend husband.) We got married on the playground one day.

  I am Karen Brewer, Ricky’s wife. I have blonde hair and blue eyes and some freckles. I wear glasses. So does Ricky. That is why we sit next to each other. Ms. Colman makes the glasses-wearers sit in the front row. I guess she is allowed to do that. She wears glasses herself. Also, she is the teacher.

  I am seven. Ricky is almost eight. So are most of the kids in our second-grade room. In fact, some of them have already turned eight. I am the youngest in the class. That is because I skipped.

  Ms. Colman had picked up a stack of papers. She was standing at her desk. “Class,” she began, “today you are going to take a math quiz. So are the other students here at Stoneybrook Academy. Everyone is going to begin taking quizzes about the things they have studied in math this year. Our quizzes will be on addition and subtraction facts. Those facts will be helpful when you learn to multiply and divide. I will give you a quiz once or twice a week, but I will not tell you about them ahead of time. Just begin reviewing your facts. Use the flash cards you got at the beginning of the year. And do not worry too much about this first quiz, since it is a surprise.”

  Ms. Colman handed out the papers. I looked down at the one on my desk. I saw two long columns of addition problems, like this: 9 + 8 = __________. 7 + 11 = __________.

  “Boo,” I whispered.

  Then Ms. Colman said, “Oh, one more thing. The quizzes will be timed. When I say, ‘Time’s up,’ you must stop working. Even if you have not finished. Is that clear?”

  Well, bullfrogs. This was getting worse and worse.

  “Okay,” said Ms. Colman, looking at her watch. “You may begin.”

  I picked up my pencil. I counted on my fingers. I answered the first question. Next to me, Ricky was writing away. He filled in one answer after another. He does not count on his fingers. He used to, but not anymore. I answered another question. I looked at Ms. Colman. She was busy erasing the chalkboard. When she had finished, she tacked some things to the bulletin board.

  “Time’s up,” she said a few minutes later.

  Already? I dropped my pencil. I was not finished. I had skipped a lot of the problems. It is hard to concentrate on a Friday afternoon.

  Karen’s Families

  On Fridays, I think about the weekend. I like weekends. Mine are usually interesting. Guess what. I have two families. Every other weekend I go to Daddy’s house. In between, I live at Mommy’s house. This is because my mommy and daddy do not live together. They are divorced.

  When I was little, I lived in one house with my mommy, my daddy, and my brother Andrew. (Andrew is four now, going on five.) It was a big house. I was very happy. But Mommy and Daddy were not. They began to fight. Finally they told Andrew and me about the divorce. After the divorce, Mommy moved into a little house, and Daddy stayed in the big house. (That is the house he grew up in. Both houses are here in Stoneybrook, Connecticut.) Mommy took Andrew and me with her.

  After awhile, Mommy and Daddy both got married again. But not to each other. Mommy married a man named Seth. He is my stepfather. Daddy married a woman named Elizabeth. She is my stepmother. Most of the time, Andrew and I live with Mommy and Seth. But every other weekend, and on some holidays and vacations, we live at Daddy’s big house.

  Here’s who lives at the little house: Mommy, Seth, Andrew, me, Rocky, Midgie, and Emily Junior. Rocky and Midgie are Seth’s cat and dog. Emily Junior is my pet rat.

  It is lucky Daddy’s house is so big, because here is who lives in it: Daddy, Elizabeth, Andrew, me, Nannie, Kristy, Charlie, Sam, David Michael, Emily Michelle, Shannon, Boo-Boo, Goldfishie, and Crystal Light the Second.

  You see, Elizabeth was married once before she married Daddy. Kristy, Charlie, Sam, and David Michael are her kids. (They are my stepsister and stepbrothers.) Kristy is thirteen. She baby-sits. I just love her. She is the best big sister. Charlie and Sam go to high school. David Michael is seven, like me. (But he does not go to my school.) Emily Michelle is my adopted sister. Daddy and Elizabeth adopted her from a faraway country called Vietnam. Emily is two and a half. (I named my rat after her.) Nannie is Elizabeth’s mother, so she is my step-grandmother. She helps take care of us kids.

  Okay, on to the pets. Shannon is David Michael’s puppy. (She is big for a puppy.) Boo-Boo is Daddy’s cross old tomcat. And Goldfishie and Crystal Light are fish. They belong to Andrew and me.

  I have nicknames for my brother and me. I call us Andrew Two-Two and Karen Two-Two. (I got the idea from a book Ms. Colman read to our class. It was called Jacob Two-Two Meets the Hooded Fang.) These are good names for us because we have two houses and two families, two mommies and two daddies, two cats and two dogs — and two of lots of other things. I have two pairs of sneakers, one at each house. I have two stuffed cats. Moosie stays at the big house, Goosie stays at the little house. I even have two pieces of Tickly, my special blanket. Plus, Andrew and I have clothes and books and toys at each house. That way, we do not have to pack much when we go back and forth.

  Guess what else I have two of. I have two best friends. Hannie Papadakis lives across the street from Daddy and one house down. Nancy Dawes lives next door to Mommy. Hannie and Nancy are in Ms. Colman’s class, too. We call ourselves the Three Musketeers.

  Sometimes being a two-two is hard, but mostly it is okay. On the day of the math quiz, I did not mind it. I was looking forward to a big-house weekend.

  David Michael

  The weekend at Daddy’s got off to a good start. On Friday night, everyone in my big-house family was at home, so we ate dinner together. We ate in the backyard on picnic tables. Daddy and Kristy barbecued chicken. When dinner was over, Elizabeth said, “What shall we have for dessert?”

  And right then, we heard the jingling of bells. Mr. Tastee’s truck was driving slowly down the street.

  “Ice cream!” I cried.

  And Andrew added, “I scream, you scream, we all scream for ice cream!”

/>   Everyone bought an ice cream from Mr. Tastee. Even Nannie.

  On Saturday, Hannie came over. We worked in the vegetable garden that Daddy plants every year. (We are hoping for a good crop of pumpkins for Halloween.) Later, Kristy took us to the playground. We came back late in the afternoon, and Hannie had to go home.

  Kristy and I wandered into the backyard at the big house. The rest of the family was there. Even Sam and Charlie, who are usually off with their friends. Charlie had just made a pitcher of iced tea.

  “Hi!” Emily Michelle called to us.

  “Come sit down,” added Elizabeth.

  Kristy and I squished together in a lawn chair. I just love being with my whole, entire big-house family. I looked around at them. Elizabeth was mending a shirt. Nannie was reading the paper. Daddy was checking the vegetable garden. Andrew and Emily were looking for ladybugs. Charlie and Sam were serving the iced tea.

  David Michael was not doing a thing. He was just sitting on the ground. All of a sudden he said, “Mom? Can I get a buzzsaw?”

  “Excuse me?” said Elizabeth.

  Daddy left the garden. “Need some tools?” he asked.

  “No!” howled David Michael. “A buzzsaw. I want a buzzsaw. It’s a haircut. All the guys in school are getting buzzsaws.”

  “They shave the sides of their heads,” spoke up Sam.

  “Oh,” said Elizabeth. “Then, no, you may not get a buzzsaw.”

  “But my friends have them!” said David Michael.

  “You are not your friends,” replied Elizabeth.

  “Please?”

  “Absolutely not.”

  “Could I get one of my ears pierced?” asked David Michael.

  “No,” said Elizabeth and Daddy at the same time.

  “How about a tattoo?”

  “Out of the question,” said Daddy.

  “I’ll say,” agreed Elizabeth.

  “My friends think I am a baby,” wailed David Michael. “I am not cool.”

  “Do you know how you get a tattoo?” asked Sam. “First you go to a tattoo parlor. Then a guy pricks you over and over again with a big needle. That is how he draws the design. With needles.”

  “Ew,” I said.

  “What is a tattoo parlor?” asked Andrew.

  “Never you mind,” said Nannie.

  And Elizabeth added, “So no pierced ear, no tattoos, and no buzzsaws, young man. Do you understand?”

  “Yes,” replied David Michael. But right after dinner that night, he pulled me aside. “Karen,” he said, “I have decided to get a tattoo.”

  “Don’t do it,” I exclaimed, but I knew he would not listen to me.

  The Red 68

  It was Monday. The big-house weekend was over. Andrew and I had gone back to the little house, and now I was in school again. When reading was over, Ms. Colman said, “Please put away your workbooks, girls and boys. Clear your desks.”

  Ms. Colman was standing at the front of the room. She was holding a stack of papers.

  Ricky leaned over. He poked me with the eraser end of his pencil. “I think those are our quizzes,” he whispered.

  I nodded. I was not worried.

  Ms. Colman walked up and down the rows. She handed our quizzes back to us. I could see red marks on the papers. Finally she gave me mine. I looked at it. On the top was a red 68.

  A 68! That was awful! Well, it was awful for me. In most subjects I get 90s or even 100s. And in math I usually get 80s, and sometimes 90s. But a 68. How had that happened?

  I put my hand over the top of my paper to cover up the 68. Then I glanced at Ricky’s paper. Ricky was not covering his. That was because he had gotten an 88.

  Bullfrogs. Well, we had not known about the quiz. Maybe that was why I had gotten a 68. I probably would have done better if I had studied. Plus, the quiz was timed. How could anyone solve all those problems so fast? I had not had enough time to count on my fingers. I would just have to study. That was all. As soon as I got home that afternoon, I would look for my flash cards. They were around somewhere. (Unless they were at the big house. I do not have two boxes of flash cards.)

  “Class,” said Ms. Colman. She had finished handing back the papers. She was standing by her desk. “Some of you may not be happy with your scores. Do not worry too much. You need to get used to taking timed quizzes. You also need to memorize your addition and subtraction facts. You should get to know them so you can answer them like that.” (Ms. Colman snapped her fingers.) “So find your flash cards and start quizzing yourselves. And for those of you who did well on Friday’s quiz — congratulations. Keep up the good work. We will have another quiz soon.”

  * * *

  On the playground that day, Hannie and Nancy and I climbed to the top of the monkey bars.

  “Boy,” I said, “our addition quiz was hard.”

  “Yeah,” agreed my friends.

  “Extra hard,” added Nancy. “I only got a seventy-six.”

  “Seventy-six!” I cried. “Boy.”

  “What did you get?” Nancy asked me.

  “A sixty-eight,” I replied. “A big red sixty-eight.”

  “Karen, you never get sixties,” said Hannie.

  “I know. What did you get?”

  “A ninety-three,” Hannie replied.

  “Wow,” said Nancy and I. (Well, Hannie’s best subject is math.)

  “Ricky got an eighty-eight,” I went on. “He did not count on his fingers.”

  “Did you count on your fingers?” Hannie asked.

  “Yes. I always do.”

  “You should memorize the facts,” said Hannie. (She sounded like Ms. Colman.) “Counting is too slow.”

  “But it works,” I replied. “Oh, well, I will just have to look at the flash cards. Then I will do better. Come on. Let’s play hopscotch.”

  The Next Test

  When I returned home after school that day, I was ready to study. I was ready to memorize my addition and subtraction facts.

  “Mommy?” I said. “Do you know where my flash cards are?”

  “What flash cards?” she replied.

  “The ones Ms. Colman gave us at the beginning of the year. For math.” (The beginning of the year seemed like a very long time ago.)

  “Are they in your desk?” suggested Mommy.

  The flash cards were not in my desk. I looked in every drawer. Then I searched my room. No flash cards. I called the big house and asked Kristy to search my room there. No flash cards. I looked in the playroom. Finally I found the flash cards in Andrew’s toy chest. I decided I was too tired to study them. I would study them the next day. At least I had found them.

  On Tuesday I did study. A little. I sat on the floor in my room. The box of flash cards was in front of me. Emily Junior was in my lap. I looked at a couple of the cards. Then I played with Emily. I looked at another card. I played with Emily some more. I really did not study too much.

  On Wednesday I did not study at all.

  On Thursday Ms. Colman gave us another quiz.

  Uh-oh.

  That was pretty sneaky. The first quiz had been on Friday. I was not expecting the next quiz to be on Thursday. I had planned to study on Thursday after school. Boo and bullfrogs.

  Ms. Colman stood before us. She was holding the papers. “The quiz will be the same as before,” she said. “These are addition problems. I will time you, so work as quickly as you can. When I say ‘Time’s up,’ please put your pencils down. And do not start working until I tell you to do so.”

  My teacher handed out the quiz papers. I stared down at mine. So many problems. One after another after another.

  I should have looked at my flashcards.

  “Okay,” said Ms. Colman. “You may begin the quiz … now!”

  The first problem was 6 + 8 = _____. Six plus eight, six plus eight, I said to myself. Was that twelve? No, fourteen. Fourteen? I just was not sure. I began to count on my fingers. Then I noticed that the next problem was 4 + 3 = _____. That was much easier. Four plus
three equals seven. I wrote 7 in the blank. Not bad. Hannie had said not to count, and I had not counted. I went on to the third problem.

  5 + 9 = _____. Five plus nine, five plus nine. I was pretty sure the answer was thirteen, so I wrote 13 in the blank. Then I went back to the first problem. I began to count on my fingers. I stopped. I peeked over at Ricky’s paper. Ricky’s hand was very busy. But it was busy writing, not counting. Ricky had filled in almost every blank in the first column.

  So I quickly wrote 12 after 6 + 8 = _____. I moved on to the fourth problem: 9 + 8 = _____. I just could not answer that without counting on my fingers. I would never finish the quiz. I could not work fast enough.

  I glanced over at Ricky’s paper again. I bet his answers were almost all correct. I looked around for Ms. Colman. She was in the back of the room. She was busy with our workbooks. I looked back at Ricky’s paper. He had moved on to the second column of problems.

  And then I did something I knew I should not do. I began to copy Ricky’s answers onto my paper. It was wrong, but I had to do it. I did not want another red 68. I did not want to disappoint Ms. Colman again.

  Copying certainly was faster than trying to fill in each blank by myself. When Ms. Colman said, “Time’s up,” I had finished all the problems in the first column and half the problems in the second column.

  The Red 80

  I did not sleep very well that night. I had a dream about Andrew. In the dream, the weather was sunny and hot. Except at Mommy’s. The street in front of the little house was full of snow and slush. And the sky was gray. Andrew ran outside barefoot. He began to wade around in the freezing slush.

  “Andrew, stop!” I yelled. “You are going to catch a cold.”

  “I will not!” he replied. “Anyway, I am just copying you, Karen.”

  After he said that, I woke up. I did not fall asleep again for a long time. (I do not know what that dream meant.)

  * * *

  Ms. Colman gave our quizzes back on Friday morning. I had been hoping she would wait awhile. Or maybe she would forget about them. When Hannie and Nancy and I had first arrived at school that day, we had sat on some desks in the back of the classroom. Right away, Hannie had started talking about the quizzes.