And that is exactly what we did.
Daddy picked up Andrew and me early in the morning. He brought us to the big house. Everyone was there. Mostly they were wearing grubby old clothes. Sam and Charlie were wearing only their swimming trunks. We gathered in the backyard.
“Okay,” said Elizabeth. “The picnic is just a week away. We have to be prepared. What shall we practice first?”
“The egg toss!” shouted David Michael.
“The potato sack race,” said Kristy.
“The three-legged race,” said Nannie.
“Are you going to run in the three-legged race?” I asked Nannie.
“No,” she said, “but I want to watch everyone else run in it. I might play in the egg toss, though.”
“Let’s try the three-legged race,” said Elizabeth.
“How do we do it?” asked Andrew.
“Like this,” said Daddy. “Andrew, why don’t you and Karen be partners. Come stand in front of me.”
Andrew and I stood next to each other. Daddy tied my right leg to Andrew’s left leg. We were supposed to run together! We ran for four steps and fell down. Thud! Everyone laughed. Then they wanted to try the three-legged race.
All morning long we practiced. We ran around with our legs tied together. We hopped in potato sacks. We tossed eggs back and forth. (They were hard-boiled, in case they broke.) The weather grew hotter and hotter. Kristy put on her bathing suit. Then Andrew and I changed into our suits.
“David Michael?” said Elizabeth. “Don’t you want to put on your swimming trunks?”
“No. That’s all right,” replied my brother.
Elizabeth looked at him strangely, so I poked him. But David Michael just said, “Come on, everybody. Let’s try the three-legged race again.”
“What is a three-legged race?” someone asked.
I looked up. Hannie had come into the yard. She was watching us.
“Hi, Hannie!” called Kristy. “How are you? I have not seen you in awhile.”
“I’m fine,” said Hannie. (She did not say that she and I were mad at each other.)
“How is school going?” asked Kristy.
“Fine,” said Hannie again. “I got a one hundred on an arithmetic quiz.” She paused. Then she added, “So did Karen.”
“Karen!” exclaimed Daddy. “You got a one hundred on a math quiz? Why didn’t you tell us? That is fantastic!”
“Um, thanks,” I said. I tried to smile. I knew I should look proud.
“What was the quiz on?” asked Nannie.
“Addition,” I said.
“Will you show us your paper?” Elizabeth wanted to know.
“I can’t. I left it at school.” I turned around and stuck my tongue out at Hannie. Then I said, “Okay. Let’s practice some more.”
Emily’s Tattoo
By lunchtime, everyone in my big-house family was tired from our practicing. We took a break and ate sandwiches in the backyard. We rested for awhile. Then we practiced some more. David Michael and I were getting pretty good at jumping around in sacks. We were not bad at tossing eggs, either.
At three o’clock, Emily fell and bumped her chin.
Then Sam said he had a headache.
“Time to stop practicing,” said Elizabeth.
We went inside to cool off. We had been sitting in the kitchen with glasses of water, when Daddy said, “Where are Emily and Andrew?”
“I will look for them,” replied Kristy. “Come on, Karen.”
Kristy and I found Emily and Andrew upstairs in the playroom.
“Oh, no!” cried Kristy, when she saw them. “What are you doing?”
“We have tattoos,” said Andrew proudly.
“Tattoos,” repeated Emily.
“We drew them ourselves,” added Andrew. “We did not have to go to a tattoo parlor.”
Emily and Andrew were covered with little Magic Marker drawings.
“Look,” said Andrew. “I made a whale here, and a turtle here, and over here are Rocky and Midgie.”
“I make cat!” exclaimed Emily. She pointed to a purple blob on her knee. “Boo-Boo cat. All by myself.”
“Oh, brother,” said Kristy. “Now where did you get the idea to give yourselves tattoos? Come on, you guys. Let me clean you up.”
Kristy took Emily and Andrew into the bathroom. And I ran downstairs and found David Michael. “I have to talk to you,” I hissed. I made him come outside with me.
“What is it?” he asked crossly.
“Emily and Andrew gave themselves tattoos with Magic Markers. They must have seen your dragon. I do not want to keep your secret anymore. You have to tell your mother what you did.”
“No way,” said my brother. (He did not sound very worried.)
“Okay-ay,” I sang. “But you will be sorry.”
“You are a worry wart,” replied David Michael.
And that was that.
Ricky’s Cold
On Sunday, I looked at my flash cards. I quizzed myself. I decided that maybe I knew my addition facts a little faster. Even so, when I went to school on Monday, I was not feeling very happy. I knew that copying from Ricky was wrong. Plus, Hannie was still mad at me, and Nancy wanted to know why, but Hannie and I would not tell her. Also, Daddy wanted me to bring home the quiz with the red 100% on top. My big mess was getting bigger and bigger.
When Ms. Colman came into the room, she took attendance. “Where is Ricky today?” she asked us.
Bobby Gianelli raised his hand. “At home with a cold,” he replied. “I talked to him yesterday. He will be back tomorrow.”
Poor Ricky, I thought. Too bad he has to stay at home on a nice day like today.
After that, I did not think much about Ricky. Not until the afternoon. That was when Ms. Colman said, “Time for the next quiz, boys and girls.”
My heart beat faster. I looked down at the paper Ms. Colman laid on my desk. It was full of subtraction problems. What was I going to do? I could not take that quiz. I had just realized something awful. I needed to copy from Ricky. If I did not copy, I would probably not finish half the test. Then what would I say to Ms. Colman? Or to Daddy or Mommy or Seth or Elizabeth? Or to Hannie, who had already seen me copying from Ricky?
I could feel my heart pounding in my ears again. I watched Ms. Colman. She had returned to the front of the room. I knew she was about to say, “You may begin the quiz.” So before she could do that, I raised my hand.
“Yes, Karen?” said Ms. Colman.
“I do not feel very well,” I told her. “May I go to the nurse?”
Ms. Colman paused. Then she said, “What’s the matter?”
“Um, my stomach is upset.”
“Are you sure you need to go to the nurse?”
“Yes,” I answered. “I think I might throw up.” (I knew no one would want me to barf in our classroom.)
Sure enough, Pamela Harding said, “Ew, gross.”
“All right,” said Ms. Colman. “Natalie, will you walk Karen to the nurse, please? Then come right back so you can begin the quiz.”
Natalie walked me down the hall to the nurse’s office. When she left me there, she called over her shoulder, “I hope you do not barf, Karen!”
“Thank you,” I replied politely. (My stomach felt just fine.)
“Well, Karen,” said the nurse. “What seems to be the problem?”
“My stomach is a little upset. Could I lie down for awhile?”
Our nurse is Mrs. Pazden, and she is very nice. Her office smells kind of funny, though. Actually, so does Mrs. Pazden. But that was okay. The smells are just medicines and Band-Aids.
Mrs. Pazden led me to the cot. It is in a dark corner of the room, in case anyone needs to go to sleep. I lay down on the cot.
I stayed there until Mrs. Pazden said, “School is almost over now, Karen. Do you think you can walk back to your classroom?”
“Yes,” I replied. I stood up — but not too fast. After all, I was supposed to be sick. I walked thro
ugh the hallway to Ms. Colman’s room. My classmates were getting ready to leave. They were taking things out of their desks and lining up at the door. I lined up with them.
“Do you feel better now?” Ms. Colman asked me.
“Yes, thank you,” I said. I let out a sigh. The subtraction quiz was over. I had not had to take it.
Karen’s Big Lie
Ricky came back to school on Tuesday, just as Bobby had said he would.
“How do you feel?” Ms. Colman asked him.
“Fine, thanks,” he replied. “My cold is all gone.”
“We had another arithmetic quiz yesterday,” Ms. Colman told him. “I would like for you to make it up. I will give it to you right after lunch. You will miss the beginning of recess, but after you are finished you may go outside.”
“Okay,” said Ricky. “I am ready.” (At least he did not say the quiz would be as easy as pie.)
“Karen, you missed the quiz, too,” Ms. Colman went on. “I would like for you to make it up with Ricky.”
Make it up? But I had not been absent. I had just missed the quiz. Oh, well. Maybe when lunch was over, I could pretend I had forgotten about the quiz. I would just go out to the playground.
Ms. Colman did not let me forget. She came into the cafeteria during lunchtime. She waited for Ricky and me to finish eating. Then she led us back to our classroom. We sat at our desks. Ms. Colman gave us the sheets of subtraction problems.
And then she sat down at her desk. She was right in front of us. “You may begin,” she said. She did not move.
Uh-oh. How could I peek at Ricky’s paper? Ms. Colman would see me. So I solved the first problem by myself.
Knock, knock, knock. Mr. Berger was leaning in our doorway. His classroom is next to ours. He called Ms. Colman into the hall. They stood outside and talked.
While they talked, I copied Ricky’s quiz. I was getting pretty good at sliding my eyes over to his paper. Ricky did not know what I was doing. I wrote busily, almost as fast as Ricky.
By the time Ms. Colman came back, we were nearly finished with the quiz. I had to solve the last two problems by myself. Luckily, they were easy ones. They were 10 – 2 = _____ and 8 – 5 = _____.
“Time’s up,” said Ms. Colman, just as I was writing 3 in the blank.
“Can I go outside now?” asked Ricky. “Please?”
“I think I will correct your quizzes first,” replied Ms. Colman.
She corrected them quickly. When she was finished, she said, “Well, this is very interesting.”
“What is?” I asked. (I could feel butterflies in my tummy.)
“You both got eighty-eights.”
Ricky looked confused. “That is not bad, is it?” he asked.
“Oh, no. It is a very good score,” said Ms. Colman. “But you and Karen both missed the same problems. The exact same ones.”
“Probably the hardest ones,” said Ricky.
“And you both came up with the same wrong answers.”
Ricky frowned. He looked at me. I looked down at my desk.
“Ricky, please come here,” said Ms. Colman. She was sitting behind her desk. She talked to Ricky for a few minutes. Then she let him go outside for the rest of recess. After that she sat down at her desk again. “Karen,” she said, “you and Ricky have been getting a lot of the same wrong answers lately. That is very strange. Do you want to tell me anything about it?” (I shook my head.) “I asked Ricky if he has been copying from you. He said no. So now I will ask you something. Have you been copying from Ricky?”
“No,” I replied.
I had just told my teacher a big lie.
The Stay-at-Home Day
I knew I had done a very bad thing. In fact, I had done several bad things. I had been copying from Ricky’s quizzes. (That is cheating.) I had been helping David Michael keep a naughty secret. I had faked a stomachache. I had lied to Hannie. But worst of all, I had lied to Ms. Colman, my best teacher ever. My big mess was a big problem. And I did not know what to do about it.
When I came home from school on the day I lied to Ms. Colman, I went straight to my room. I stayed there until supper-time. At suppertime I sat in the kitchen with Mommy and Seth and Andrew, but I could hardly eat.
“What is wrong?” Seth asked me.
“Do you feel all right, honey?” Mommy asked me.
“Are you going to throw up?” Andrew asked me.
“I’m okay,” I said.
But I did not eat much dinner. Afterward, I looked at my flash cards for awhile, and then I just went to bed early. But I woke up early, too. I woke up long before anyone else in the house did, even the pets. I lay in bed and thought about my big mess. I decided I was a bad person. How could I ever look at Ms. Colman again? How could I look her in the eye, knowing I had told her such an awful lie? How could I be the flower girl in her wedding? I was in T-R-O-U-B-L-E.
By the time Mommy woke up, I really did not feel very well. I even thought I might barf. So I said to Mommy, “Could I stay home from school today?”
Mommy put her hand on my forehead. “You do not have a fever,” she replied.
“But I still do not feel well. Andrew was right. I might throw up.”
“Well …” said Mommy. “Are you sure you are sick enough to stay home?”
“Yes.” I nodded my head.
“All right. Get back in bed then. I will bring you some tea and toast.”
“No, thank you. I cannot eat.”
I climbed into bed. Later, Seth came in to say good-bye. He kissed my forehead. “Feel better, Karen,” he said. “I am going to work now. I will see you tonight. I will bring you a little present.”
I tried to smile, but I could not. “That is okay. You do not have to bring me a present,” I said. (I knew I did not deserve one.)
The morning seemed long. Andrew left for preschool. (His car pool picked him up.) Mommy worked at her desk downstairs. I looked at my books by Mr. Roald Dahl — Matilda and The Witches and Charlie and the Chocolate Factory and James and the Giant Peach. I had gotten them for my seventh birthday. I decided I was glad that when I turned seven, I did not know what a hard time I would have being seven.
I was just starting to feel bored when Mommy called to me. “Karen?” she said. “Do you think you could eat a little lunch?”
“I do not know,” I said. (That was the truth.)
“Well, come downstairs for awhile and talk to me.”
So I did. Mommy and I sat at the table in the kitchen. I ate some crackers and drank some juice.
“Honey,” said Mommy, “I am worried about you. So are Daddy and Seth and Elizabeth. You have not seemed like yourself. Is anything wrong? Are you having trouble in school?” (I thought about what to answer. I did not want to tell another lie.) “We want you to know we are very proud of you,” Mommy went on. “You have been working hard lately. Especially in math. I know math is not easy for you. And your quiz scores have been excellent.”
I almost told Mommy how I had really earned those quiz scores. But Andrew came home then, and he wanted lunch. So I did not say anything.
Prizes
“Hi, honey. How are you feeling?” said Mommy when she woke me the next morning. “Is your tummy better?”
“I guess so,” I replied.
“Good. Back to school then.”
“Okay.”
I got dressed for school. I wondered if I had missed another quiz when I had been absent. But I did not really care. If I had missed one, I knew I would have to make it up.
In school, Ms. Colman started talking about those darn old quizzes right away. As soon as she had closed her attendance book, she said, “Girls and boys, I have an announcement.”
Usually Ms. Colman makes Surprising Announcements, which I like very much. But on that day, I did not care about announcements at all. Not until Ms. Colman began to speak.
“As you know,” my teacher said, “all the students at Stoneybrook Academy have been taking math quizzes for several weeks
now. Yesterday, your principal decided that the next quiz will be a contest. In each class, the two students who receive the highest scores will get — ”
“A trip to Disney World?” guessed Bobby.
Everyone laughed, even Ms. Colman.
“No,” said Ms. Colman. (She was still smiling.) “Each one will get a coupon for a free ice-cream sundae at the Rosebud Cafe.”
“Yea!” cheered my classmates.
But all I said was, “When do we take the next quiz?”
“Right now,” replied Ms. Colman.
“Oh.” I had had a feeling she would say that.
Ms. Colman scooped a stack of papers off her desk. She walked up and down the rows, handing a quiz to each of us. When she gave me mine, I did not even look at it. I did not care whether it was an addition quiz or a subtraction quiz.
That was because I had made a decision. I could not copy from Ricky’s paper again. I already felt horrible. But I would feel much, much worse if I got a free ice-cream sundae that someone else should have won.
I knew I would not do well on the quiz, though. And later I would have to explain that to Ms. Colman.
I sighed loudly. Then I looked down at my paper.
It was a subtraction quiz.
“Okay, class. You may begin,” said Ms. Colman.
Keep your eyes on your paper, I told myself. And I did. I did not let them slide to the left to look at Ricky’s quiz. I did not let them slide to the right to try to peek at Natalie’s quiz. I just stared down at the first problem: 19 – 8 = _____. That would take lots of counting. But I counted anyway.
Eighteen, seventeen, sixteen, fifteen, fourteen, thirteen, twelve, eleven. Nineteen minus eight equals eleven. I wrote 11 in the blank.
I went on to the next problem: 9 – 5 = _____. That was easy. I knew that problem by heart. I wrote 4 in the blank. But the next problem was 16 – 7 = _____. I had to count again.
Slowly, slowly I worked on the quiz. When Ms. Colman said, “Time’s up,” I had not even finished the first column of problems. I looked at Ricky’s paper. He had finished every one. There was nothing I could do. I handed in my quiz along with the others.