Page 4 of Karen's Book


  “That is what she said. But I know better,” I replied.

  After Kristy hung up the phone, Boo-Boo stopped running around. I knew it was because Morbidda Destiny had called off her spell.

  Boo-Boo sat down and licked the little bit of jelly that was left on his tail. Kristy cleaned up the house. I helped her. When we finished, Kristy said, “Except for the broken vase, everything looks fine.”

  “Until the next spell,” I said. “I hope you were not too scared. Will you come back?”

  “Of course I will come back,” said Kristy. “I am not scared of crabby cats or witch’s spells. And when things go wrong, I know I have a very good helper. Thank you, Karen.”

  Kristy looked at me and smiled. Even a witch’s spell could not change that.

  Flower Girl: Part Two

  Not long after the witch’s spell, Andrew and I met Elizabeth, David Michael, Sam, and Charlie.

  We spent a lot of time together on weekends when Andrew and I stayed at Daddy’s. So by the time Daddy told us he and Elizabeth were going to get married, we already felt like family.

  By then, Andrew and I were also already two-twos. That is why I was not surprised that I was going to be a flower girl for a second time. (I am lucky. Some girls never get to be a flower girl even once.)

  On the day of the wedding, I jumped out of bed.

  “I am going to be a flower girl! Today is the day! Hooray!” I sang to Moosie.

  I ate breakfast with Daddy and Andrew. Daddy gave us each a big hug.

  “I will be pretty busy later,” he said. “But you know where to find me if you need me. I love you both.”

  As we were finishing breakfast, Elizabeth, Kristy, and Nannie came over. (I had met Nannie a few times by then.) The four of us went to the spare bedroom. That way Daddy would not see Elizabeth getting ready. (Some people think it is bad luck for the groom to see the bride dressed before the wedding.)

  Nannie helped me put on my dress. She had made it herself. It was short and yellow with lace on it. I had yellow shoes, white tights, and yellow and white flowers in my hair. I checked myself out in the mirror. I looked gigundoly pretty.

  The wedding was going to be held in our backyard. The yard is big, so there was room for lots of people. As it turned out, there was one person too many. You will soon find out why.

  When I was dressed, I went out to the yard. The guests were wearing their best clothes. There were flowers everywhere. (Daddy is a gardener and loves beautiful flowers.)

  Kristy called, “Karen, come on! We are starting.”

  Suddenly I got butterflies in my stomach. Even though I had been a flower girl before, I was nervous.

  Daddy stood in front of the minister. David Michael stood beside Daddy. (David Michael was the ring bearer.)

  The rest of us were at the back of the yard. When the piano player began the wedding march, Sam said, “Here we go!” Sam walked Nannie down the aisle to her seat. Then he stood beside David Michael.

  Kristy, the bridesmaid, was next. She walked down the aisle, then stood across from Daddy, David Michael, and Sam.

  It was my turn. I started down the aisle. I tossed white rose petals first to one side, then to the other. I tried my best to walk in time to the music. Right foot, left foot. Toss, toss. Right foot, left foot. Toss, skip! Skip! Oops! I heard someone say I was adorable. I smiled and threw extra petals her way. I was having fun!

  Elizabeth walked down the aisle behind me, holding Charlie’s arm. Charlie brought her to stand beside Daddy.

  The service began. I daydreamed through most of it. I woke up when I heard the minister say, “You may kiss the bride.”

  Daddy leaned over and kissed Elizabeth. Then people started getting up to congratulate them. That is when I screamed. Someone was heading in Daddy’s direction holding a small box in her hand. It was Morbidda Destiny!

  I started to shout, “Do not take it! It is a wedding spell!” Daddy covered my mouth with one hand. With his other hand, he reached out to take the box from his guest.

  I was too scared to see what happened next. I pulled away from Daddy and ran to the house as fast as I could.

  When I was brave enough to peek outside, Morbidda Destiny was gone and the wedding was going as planned. I found out later that a key ring was in the box. And no one seemed to be under any spells.

  Morbidda Destiny is a witch for sure, but I think she is not a very good one. Except for Boo-Boo, none of her spells has worked yet. Thank goodness!

  Ms. Colman’s Class

  Did you know that I am in second grade? Well, I am. Some kids my age are in first grade. I was in first grade for one week, then my teachers decided I belonged in second grade.

  That is how I ended up in Ms. Colman’s class. I love Ms. Colman. She is smart and nice. She never raises her voice, even though I give her lots of reasons to raise it. For example, sometimes I talk too loudly in class. Then Ms. Colman says, “Indoor voice, please, Karen.” I try to remember that, but whenever I am excited I forget.

  Ms. Colman is only one of the great things about my second-grade class. The other great thing is that Hannie and Nancy are in the class too. When I joined the class I got to sit next to them in the back of the room. Later, when I got my glasses, Ms. Colman moved me to the front so I could see better. But we are still together most of the time in school and out. That is why we call ourselves the Three Musketeers.

  I remember the first day in Ms. Colman’s class very well. It was an important day for me and for Hootie. Only Hootie did not know it yet. He was still in the pet store. And he was not even named Hootie. I will explain.

  After I settled in that first day, Ms. Colman said, “Class, I have not forgotten about our problem.”

  I raised my hand. (Since it was my first day, I tried to behave myself.) “What problem?” I asked when Ms. Colman called on me.

  Ms. Colman told me that the class had been trying to decide on a class pet.

  “We cannot seem to choose between a hamster and a rabbit,” said Ms. Colman. She said the class was going to vote again in case some kids had changed their minds.

  I raised my hand again. A mean boy gave me a dirty look. But I did not care. I had already told him to leave me alone. And I told him, “You do not scare me.” (The boy was Bobby Gianelli, by the way. He is not so much of a bully anymore.)

  Anyway, I raised my hand and said, “What about a guinea pig? Guinea pigs are great pets. I played with one once. He was very, very friendly.”

  Guess what? The kids loved my idea!

  “A guinea pig would be a good pet,” said a girl. (It was Sara Ford, only I did not know her name yet.)

  “I like guinea pigs,” said a boy. (It was Hank Reubens.)

  “Me too,” said another girl. (It was Audrey Green.)

  Ms. Colman wrote guinea pig on the chalkboard next to rabbit and hamster. Then she took a vote.

  “How many of you want to get a guinea pig?” she asked.

  There were sixteen kids in the class that day. Sixteen hands shot into the air. Yes!

  A couple of days later we went to the pet store and picked out our guinea pig. We named him Hootie because he makes a loud whistling sound.

  Hootie is happy in second grade. And so am I.

  Karen’s Book

  I stopped writing my book and put down my pencil. My hand was stiff from writing so much. I shook it around.

  It was late Sunday afternoon and the house was coming back to life. I had been writing for most of the weekend. I stopped for important things such as eating and sleeping. But the rest of the time I had stayed in my room and kept on writing. I did not mind because I was having so much fun.

  “Hi, Karen,” said Kristy, poking her head around my door. “What did you do all weekend?”

  I looked at all the pages on my bed.

  “I wrote a book,” I said.

  “Really? That is amazing! Can I see it?” asked Kristy.

  “Soon,” I replied. “I am almost finished.”
br />   Kristy smiled and closed the door. I took out a special folder and put my book into it. I fastened the clasp and was about to write the title of my book on the front when there was a knock at the door.

  “Hi, sweetheart,” said Daddy. “Are you ready for dinner?”

  “I will be down in a minute,” I replied.

  When Daddy left, I wrote the title of my book in big letters on the cover of my folder. Then I drew a picture and taped it below the title.

  I went downstairs and slipped the book under my chair. I did not want anyone to see it until I was ready.

  While we were passing around the spaghetti, I said, “I have an announcement. After dinner I will be reading my book in the den. Whoever wants to hear it is invited.”

  “Are you going to read from a Paddington book?” asked Elizabeth.

  “No, I am going to read my own book,” I replied. “I wrote it all by myself.”

  “Then I want a front-row seat,” said Daddy.

  After dinner, everyone followed me into the den.

  “Thank you for coming,” I said. “I hope you like my story.” (I heard an author say that at a bookstore once. I thought it sounded very nice.)

  I held up my book and showed everyone the cover. It was a picture of me and my book. Then I began to read.

  “Little House, Big House: My Life Story, by Karen Brewer,” I said. Emily started clapping.

  “Quiet, please. I have not even started the story yet,” I said.

  Nannie held Emily’s hands in hers and I began to read.

  “ ‘The Day I Was Born: Part One. It was a beautiful spring day,’ ” I said, and kept on going.

  No one talked. No one fell asleep. Everyone listened. When I got to my last page, I read, “ ‘Hootie is happy in second grade. And so am I.’ ” Then I added, “The end. For now.”

  Daddy started clapping. Then Emily, of course. And Elizabeth, Nannie, Kristy, and David Michael.

  “Bravo!” said Daddy. “I am so proud of you.”

  “That was a wonderful story,” said Elizabeth.

  “May I get a copy of your book?” asked Nannie. “I would like it signed by the author, please.”

  “So would I,” said Daddy. “I will make copies for you. You can send one to Mommy, Seth, and Andrew in Chicago.”

  I could not believe it. I had written the book just for fun. Now I felt like a real author.

  “Everyone come to the kitchen for refreshments,” said Elizabeth.

  “I will come later. I want to write all this down,” I said. I headed toward the stairs.

  “Are you sure?” said Nannie. “We have cookies, ice cream, and homemade chocolates.”

  I turned back toward the kitchen.

  “Yum! I want everything!” I said.

  It was time for me to enjoy my first book party. Later, I could write all about it.

  About the Author

  ANN M. MARTIN is the acclaimed and bestselling author of a number of novels and series, including Belle Teal, A Corner of the Universe (a Newbery Honor book), A Dog’s Life, Here Today, P.S. Longer Letter Later (written with Paula Danziger), the Family Tree series, the Doll People series (written with Laura Godwin), the Main Street series, and the generation-defining series The Baby-sitters Club. She lives in New York.

  Copyright © 1998 by Ann M. Martin

  All rights reserved. Published by Scholastic Inc., Publishers since 1920. SCHOLASTIC, BABY-SITTERS LITTLE SISTER, and associated logos are trademarks and/or registered trademarks of Scholastic Inc.

  The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

  All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this publication may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher. For information regarding permission, write to Scholastic Inc., Attention: Permissions Department, 557 Broadway, New York, NY 10012.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  First edition, 1998

  e-ISBN 978-1-338-06060-7

 


 

  Ann M. Martin, Karen's Book

 


 

 
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