Karen's Field Day

  The author gratefully acknowledges

  Gabrielle Charbonnet

  for her help

  with this book.

  Contents

  Title Page

  Dedication

  1 Karen and Andrew

  2 The Story of My Families

  3 A New Class Project

  4 Hannie and Nancy

  5 Daddy’s Story

  6 Gym Class

  7 Vowing to Win

  8 The Three P’s

  9 Mommy’s Story

  10 Aerobics Is Not for Wimps

  11 Pamela, Schmamela

  12 Workout Diary

  13 Morning Sky

  14 Biggest Pumpkin

  15 Where Were the Brewer Spies?

  16 “My Ancestor,” by Karen Brewer

  17 Field Day

  18 Who Is Evening Star?

  19 Karen Is Found Out

  20 The Three Musketeers

  About the Author

  Also Available

  Copyright

  Karen and Andrew

  “Look what I found!” I said. I was helping Daddy in the big-house garden. It was a beautiful April morning. The sun was shining and the birds were singing. The flowers were just beginning to bloom.

  I held out my trowel. “A big fat worm!” I said.

  “Wow!” said my little brother, Andrew. “Some worm!”

  “Do not hurt it, Karen,” said Daddy. “When you are done looking at the worm, put it back in the dirt. Worms are good for the soil, you know.”

  “I know,” I said. “I will not hurt it. I like worms.”

  It is true. I do like worms. I like all animals. (Well, almost all. I am not fond of mosquitoes.)

  Oops, I have not even told you who I am yet. My name is Karen Brewer. I am seven years old. I live in Stoneybrook, Connecticut. I am in Ms. Colman’s second-grade class at Stoneybrook Academy. I have blonde hair and blue eyes and freckles. I will tell you more about myself soon.

  “I am getting hot,” said Andrew. He wiped his face on his jacket sleeve.

  “Gardening is good exercise,” said Daddy. He pulled a weed out by the roots.

  “Then I will work in the garden every day,” I said. “I need to get in shape for Field Day.” I flexed my arm muscle.

  “What is Field Day?” asked Andrew.

  “What is Field Day?” I repeated. I could not believe he did not know what Field Day was. (Sometimes I forget that Andrew is only four going on five.)

  “Field Day is the most fun day of the whole school year,” I said. “There are races and contests and games, all outdoors. And there are prizes. This year the kid who earns the most points in each class wins a gift certificate to Phil’s Sporting Goods Shop. And after the prizes are given out, there is a big picnic.”

  “That sounds like fun,” said Andrew.

  “Oh, it is fun,” I said. “And you are invited to watch the races and come to the picnic afterward.”

  “Really?” Andrew looked very pleased.

  “Sure,” I said. “Everyone’s families will be there. Daddy will be there.”

  “Yup,” said Daddy. “I would not miss Karen’s Field Day for all the tea in China.”

  I did not know what Chinese tea had to do with it. But I just said, “And Mommy will be there too.”

  “Gosh!” said Andrew. “Daddy and Mommy at the same time? Field Day must be very special.”

  “It is,” I said.

  You might be wondering what is so amazing about both my mommy and my daddy coming to Field Day. It is because they do not do many things together. And now I will tell you why.

  The Story of My Families

  A long time ago, when I was little, Mommy, Daddy, Andrew, and I lived together in Daddy’s big house. Then Mommy and Daddy started to argue a lot. They told Andrew and me that they loved us very much, but they did not love each other anymore. And they could not live together anymore. They decided to get a divorce.

  Mommy moved into her own little house in another neighborhood. Andrew and I moved with her. Daddy stayed in the big house, because he had grown up there.

  After awhile Mommy and Daddy got married again. But not to each other. Mommy married a nice man named Seth Engle. He is my stepfather now. Seth has a dog, Midgie, and a cat, Rocky. So now at the little house live Mommy; Seth; Andrew; me; Midgie; Rocky; my pet rat, Emily Junior; and Andrew’s hermit crab, Bob.

  At the big house are many, many people. Daddy married a nice woman named Elizabeth Thomas. She is our stepmother. She has four children of her own. They are Sam and Charlie, who are practically grown-ups. (They are in high school.) There is Kristy, who is thirteen and the best stepsister ever. There is David Michael, who is seven like me, but an older seven. (He does not go to my school.)

  Awhile ago, Daddy and Elizabeth adopted my little sister, Emily Michelle, from the faraway country of Vietnam. Emily is two and a half. She is gigundoly cute. I named my pet rat after her. The other pets at the big house are Shannon, David Michael’s enormous Bernese mountain dog puppy; Pumpkin, a little black kitten; Crystal Light the Second, my goldfish; and Goldfishie, Andrew’s trout (ha-ha).

  There are so many people and pets at the big house that Elizabeth’s mother, Nannie, moved in too, to help take care of everyone. Nannie has a candy-making business at the big house. Sometimes I help her. I even helped her win a cooking contest once!

  Now Andrew and I live at the little house one month and at the big house the next month. (April was a big-house month.) This is a very good system because it means we get to spend lots of time with everyone in both our families.

  When Andrew and I move from one house to the other, Emily Junior and Bob move back and forth with us. Most of my stuff does not move back and forth, though. That would be too complicated. Instead, I just have two of lots of things. I have two stuffed cats, two bicycles, two pairs of pink sneakers…. I even have two pieces of Tickly, my special blanket — one for each house. Also, I have two houses, two mommies, two daddies, two pairs of glasses (one for reading and one for the rest of the time), and two best friends.

  Andrew and I have two of so many things that I made up nicknames for us. I call us Andrew Two-Two and Karen Two-Two. (I got the idea from a book Ms. Colman read to my class. It was called Jacob Two-Two Meets the Hooded Fang.)

  There! That just about does it. Of course, there is a lot more to know about me. For example, I am not very shy. But that is enough for now.

  A New Class Project

  “Class, I have an announcement to make,” said Ms. Colman on Monday morning.

  I sat up straight in my chair to listen. Ms. Colman’s Surprising Announcements are always very exciting. They are one reason she is my favorite teacher.

  “We are going to begin a project about writing, history, and research,” said Ms. Colman.

  I could not help wiggling in my chair. The project sounded fabulous already. And I was sure I would be good at it. After all, I love writing. (I am an excellent speller.) I love history. And I love finding out about new things. I could not wait to hear what the project would be.

  “What is it, Ms. Colman?” I burst out. (Actually, I kind of shouted it.) “What are we going to do?”

  “Indoor voice, Karen,” Ms. Colman reminded me. Sometimes she has to remind me about my indoor voice three or four times in a single day. But she is never mean about it. That is another reason Ms. Colman is the best teacher ever. “And you forgot to raise your hand.”

  I raised my hand and waved it wildly in the air.

  “Yes, Karen?” Ms. Colman called on me.

  “What is our project going to be?” I asked in an indoor voice.

  Ms. Colman smiled.

  “We will be working on a family-history project,” said Ms. C
olman. “Now, many history books are mostly about famous men. But women are a part of history too. For your project, you will ask your parents, grandparents, or other relatives about women from your families’ pasts. Then you will each write a report about your most interesting female ancestor.”

  Hands shot up all around the room.

  “Does the woman have to be famous?” asked Sara Ford.

  “Does she have to be dead?” asked Hank Reubens.

  “What if the woman is not an American?” called Omar Harris.

  Ms. Colman held up her hands. “Hold on, hold on,” she said. “Those are all good questions. She does not have to be famous, just interesting. She can still be alive. And she does not have to be American. Any other questions?”

  No one raised a hand.

  “Good,” said Ms. Colman. “To help you get started, I have put together some sample questions to ask your parents or grand-parents or aunts and uncles.” Ms. Colman passed out a sheet of paper.

  Women from My Family’s History Sample Questions to Ask a Relative

  1. When you were a child, what woman in our family do you remember your parents talking about?

  2. What was she known for?

  3. When and where did she live?

  4. How were stories about her passed down in the family?

  5. Did you ever meet her? If not, would you like to have met her?

  “Your reports are due the Monday after next,” said Ms. Colman. “We will take turns presenting them to the rest of the class. And I will select several to put up on our work-board.”

  Our workboard is on the wall. We tape our best work there. Across the top is a big banner Ms. Colman made. It says, WE ARE DOING GREAT WORK! I looove having my work put on the workboard.

  I folded up the sheet of sample questions that Ms. Colman had handed out. I put it in my backpack to take home to the big house.

  I could hardly wait to get home and ask Daddy about the Brewer women. I was sure there would be many, many glamorous and exciting ancestors to choose from. I wondered if maybe we had any real princesses in our family. We do not now, of course. But maybe we did a long time ago. Or maybe one of our ancestors was a famous woman scientist who invented something wonderful, like ice cream.

  And that was only on Daddy’s side of the family. Mommy’s family, the Packetts, would probably be just as full of gigundoly interesting women. How would I ever choose? I would have to play eenie, meenie, minie, moe. This project was going to be so, so much fun.

  Hannie and Nancy

  I have not told you about my two best friends yet. They are in Ms. Colman’s class with me. Their names are Hannie Papadakis and Nancy Dawes.

  Hannie lives across the street and one house down from the big house. Nancy lives next door to the little house. We have all been best friends for a long time. In fact, Hannie, Nancy, and I call ourselves the Three Musketeers. This has nothing to do with the candy bar (I like M&M’s more — they are nibblier). It is because the Three Musketeers’ motto was “All for one and one for all.” It is our motto too.

  Today at lunch we sat together, like we always do. Tuna melt was the school lunch. If you have never had a tuna melt, you might not expect one to be very good. You might think, Cheese and fish together? Yuck! Well, you would be wrong. Tuna melts are delicious.

  “Are you going to enter all the events on Field Day, Karen?” asked Nancy.

  I swallowed a big bite of cheesy tuna. “Sure!” I said. “What about you?”

  “I do not think so,” said Nancy. “Last year in the wheelbarrow race I was the wheelbarrow. My hands slipped and I fell on my chin. That was not much fun.”

  “I think I remember that,” said Hannie. “Someone was pushing you too fast.”

  “Well, I was not hurt badly,” said Nancy. “And it was partly my fault for slipping. But I do not want to be in the wheelbarrow race again this year.”

  “What if you are the pusher, and someone else is the wheelbarrow?” I suggested.

  Nancy thought. “That would be okay,” she decided. “But who would I push?” She looked at Hannie and me.

  Hannie did not say anything. Neither did I. I did not want to fall on my face. I did not think Hannie did either.

  Nancy looked disappointed.

  I did not want Nancy to be disappointed. I would have to think about it some more. In the meantime, I decided to change the subject.

  “Our woman ancestor project will be fun,” I said. “I cannot wait to ask my mommy and daddy about famous women in my family.”

  “Me neither!” said Hannie. “But I already know who I am going to write about. My great-aunt Sofia Papadakis was the first female brain surgeon in America. She helped save a lot of really sick people.”

  Wow! A brain surgeon. I wondered if there were any brain surgeons in my family.

  “I know who I will write about too,” said Nancy. “My great-grandmother spied for the French freedom fighters in World War Two. She was captured by the Germans. They sent her to prison. Then she escaped. After the war, she received a medal from the mayor of Paris.”

  Double wow! A war-hero spy who went to jail and got a medal.

  Now I was really excited. If Hannie and Nancy had these cool women in their families, I bet my family had women astronauts, or famous athletes, or brilliant artists.

  My only question was: If there were so many great women in my family, why had I not heard of any of them? Were Mommy and Daddy just being modest?

  Daddy’s Story

  “ ’Bye, Hannie!” I called as I stepped off the bus. When I am at the big house, I ride the school bus home with Hannie. When I am at the little house, I ride home with Nancy. It is very convenient always to live close to a best friend.

  I raced home to find Daddy. I wanted to ask him about the Brewer women right away. Luckily, Daddy works out of an office right in our house, so I would not have to wait for him to come home from work. We are not supposed to disturb him unless it is an emergency, but I knew he would be excited about my project.

  I slammed the front door (by accident) and threw my books down at the bottom of the stairs. “I am home!” I yelled. I pounded past the stairs toward Daddy’s office.

  “Daddy, Daddy!” I called, tearing off my jacket.

  “What?” said Daddy. He came bounding out of his office. “What is the matter, Karen? Is there some kind of emergency?”

  “Yes!” I said.

  “What is it?” Daddy looked almost as excited as I was feeling. “Is someone injured?” He looked around to see if someone was lying hurt on the ground.

  “No!” I said. “I have to find out about famous Brewer women for a class project!”

  Daddy was silent for a moment. “There is no emergency?”

  “Well, no one is hurt,” I admitted. “This is more of a homework emergency. I want to get started on my project right away. After all, it is due in two weeks.”

  Daddy looked at me. He looked at his watch. He took a deep breath. “Well, it is time for a little break anyway,” he said. “I will be happy to help you out, Karen. But next time, do not frighten me by screaming like that, okay?”

  “Okay,” I said.

  We walked into his office together. (I did not even get a snack first. That is how excited I was.) Daddy sat down at his desk. I sat in a big comfy chair across from him and unzipped my backpack. First I pulled out Ms. Colman’s suggested questions. Then I opened my notebook to a fresh sheet and took out a sharpened pencil.

  “ ‘When you were a child,’ ” I read aloud, “ ‘what woman in our family do you remember your parents talking about?’ ”

  “Hmm,” Daddy said thoughtfully. He leaned back in his chair and looked at the ceiling. “There were so many.”

  “Really?” I asked eagerly. Here we go! I thought.

  “Oh yes,” said Daddy. He smiled. “For instance, there was Great-aunt Josephine Adelaide Brewer. She was the talk of the town.”

  “The talk of the town!” I said, writing down her nam
e. “Great! What was she famous for? Was she an important scientist?”

  “Oh, heavens, no,” said Daddy, chuckling.

  I thought about Hannie’s and Nancy’s ancestors. “Was she a war hero? A brilliant doctor?”

  Daddy laughed out loud. “No, nothing like that,” he said. A faraway look came into his eyes. “Great-aunt Josephine was famous for her lavish parties. Why, I remember my parents telling me about how every Independence Day, Great-aunt Josephine would invite half the town of West Dudley, Massachusetts, to her house. It was the social event of the season. And fancy! The men wore white linen suits, and the women wore gowns. They played croquet on the lawn. Live musicians serenaded everyone from the front porch.”

  Fancy parties? Croquet? Musicians?

  I like parties as much as the next person (probably more, in fact), but still … was that all Great-aunt Josephine was known for?

  “Did any famous people ever come to Great-aunt Josephine’s parties?” I asked. “Movie stars? Gangsters?”

  “Well, I believe the mayor of West Dudley usually attended,” Daddy said. “And he did not go to many parties, they say. Here.” He opened a drawer in his desk and started looking through a file. “I believe I have an old photo of Aunt Josephine.”

  “Um, that is okay, Daddy,” I said. “I do not need to see her picture just yet.” Aunt Josephine did not seem like report material. I mean, if Hannie and Nancy were writing about war heroes and brain surgeons, there was no way I was going to write about a woman who threw parties.

  Daddy was gazing at an old brownish photograph and sighing. Quietly I slipped out of his office.

  Oh, well, I thought. There was always Mommy’s side of the family.

  Gym Class

  Tweeet! Mrs. Mackey blew her whistle to get the class’s attention. Mrs. Mackey is Stoneybrook Academy’s gym teacher. She knows all about sports and games and stuff like that.

  Tweeet! Mrs. Mackey likes to blow her whistle.

  “Listen up, people!” she called out.

  We were on the playground. Mrs. Mackey had divided us into teams. Each team had been practicing shooting basketballs. I had almost made a basket three times. Hannie had almost made one twice. Nancy had actually made one. I really wanted to make one too.