Oh, good. I had been wondering what I would do if I had an emergency. Now I did not need to worry.
I sat at Mrs. Pazden’s desk. I put on the nurse’s cap I had found in my dress-up box. Then I waited for an injured person to come along. I did not have to wait long. A few minutes later, two first-graders hurried in. One of them had bumped his knee on the playground. I put an ice pack on it. A fourth-grader came in with a cut finger. I put a Band-Aid on it. A fifth-grader came in with a headache. I told him to lie on the cot. (I checked with Mrs. Pazden first.)
It was quite a busy afternoon. My favorite part of it was saying to kids, “I am your nurse. What seems to be the problem?”
At the end of the day, Miss Harding dismissed our class. I was sorry Switch Day was over.
Pamela Sings
On Thursday, we had a rehearsal for Jamboree Night. Our class had rehearsed our part several times by ourselves in our classroom. And I had been practicing my solo at home — just in case. But now we needed a rehearsal for all the classes in our school.
The rehearsal began after lunch. The classes were going to perform in order of youngest to oldest. So the kindergarteners would go first. Then the first-graders would perform. And then it would be … our turn.
All the kids in our school gathered in the auditorium. Mrs. Noonan talked to us. She had to use a microphone so we could all hear her. “Remember, girls and boys. Tomorrow night, these seats will be taken by your parents and the other people in the audience. There will not be room for you here. You will wait in the hallway and in some classrooms for your turn to perform. When it is your turn, you will enter the auditorium through that door.” (Mrs. Noonan pointed.) “When you are finished, you will leave through the same door. At the end of the evening, you will all return to the stage so we can sing the school song together. Today, though, you may wait in these seats for your turn to rehearse. Okay, let’s begin with the kindergarteners.” Mrs. Noonan clapped her hands.
Mr. Posner’s kindergarten class filed onto the stage. They recited a poem about an elephant and a telephone. It was a funny poem, and one of the kindergarteners kept giggling. He could not stop. Soon the whole class was giggling.
“Calm down, please,” Mrs. Noonan kept calling out.
After Mr. Posner’s class had finished, the other kindergarten class sang a song. The first-grade classes put on skits. Finally Mrs. Noonan said, “Okay, Ms. Colman’s class is next.”
We scrambled for the stage. As I hurried by Mrs. Noonan, she caught my arm. “Karen? Do you think you will be able to sing your solo tomorrow?” she asked.
I puffed out my chest. “Of course,” I replied.
“You mean your parents found out who left the door open?”
“Well … no,” I admitted. “But I am sure — ” I paused because I noticed Pamela standing nearby. She was listening carefully to us. “I am sure we will find out who did it. And I will be able to sing.”
Mrs. Noonan frowned. But all she said was, “All right.”
A few minutes later, my classmates and I began to sing. We were standing in three rows. We tried to smile and look happy. “ ‘Somewhere over the rainbow,’ ” we sang. After a few more bars, Audrey sang her solo. Then our class sang again.
My solo was coming soon. I held my breath. I let it out. “ ‘We’re off to see the wizard, the wonderful wizard of Oz. We hear he is a whiz of a wiz if ever a wiz there was,’ ” I sang.
When I finished my solo, my classmates started to sing again. But Mrs. Noonan stopped them. “Pamela, could you please try the solo now?” she asked. “You better rehearse it, too.”
I shot a Look at Pamela. She was grinning back at me. “Of course, Mrs. Noonan,” she said sweetly. But then she calmed down. By the time she began to sing, she looked almost shy. When she finished, she said softly, “How did I do?”
“You did just fine,” Mrs. Noonan replied. She smiled.
The rehearsal went on. The other classes sang more songs, recited more poems, and put on more skits. Kids forgot their lines. They mixed up words. One boy got scared and began to cry.
“This is awful,” I whispered to Nancy.
But you know what Mrs. Noonan said to us? She said, “Bad rehearsal, good performance. You will be fine tomorrow night.”
Andrew Tells the Truth
After school that day, Nancy came over to the little house. A bunch of kids were playing outside. Nancy looked at them. Then she looked at me. “We better practice for tomorrow night,” she said.
But I did not want to practice (especially if I could not sing my solo). And I did want to play. So I said, “Remember what Mrs. Noonan told us? She said not to worry about Jamboree Night. We will be fine. Come on. Let’s try jumping double. I will get my jump rope.”
Nancy and I jumped rope. Bobby and Willie rode their bikes. Kathryn helped Alicia play hopscotch. And Andrew rode his toy tractor with the big rubber tires up and down the sidewalk in front of our house.
Nancy and I had reached thirty-one in “Cinderella” when we heard a shout. “Hey!” said a man’s voice.
It was Mr. Drucker. I looked at Nancy in surprise. Mr. Drucker lives across the street, next to Kathryn and Willie. He is usually a very nice person. Now he sounded cross.
“Andrew Brewer!” called Mr. Drucker. “Look what you did! Your tractor left tire marks on my lawn. Right here by the driveway.”
All us kids ran across the street to peer at the ruined lawn.
“But — ” I started to say.
“You really must be more careful, Andrew,” scolded Mr. Drucker.
Andrew’s lower lip was trembling. “I didn’t do it,” he whispered.
“He really did not do it, Mr. Drucker,” I said. “He is not allowed to ride his tractor across the street. Besides, the garbage truck was here a few minutes ago. I think the garbage truck did it.”
“Oh, my,” said Mr. Drucker. “I am very sorry, Andrew.”
Mr. Drucker went inside then, and my friends and I went back to my yard. But Andrew was crying. Loudly.
Mommy stepped onto the front porch. “What is the matter?” she asked.
I told her about Mr. Drucker.
“Why are you still crying, Andrew?” Mommy wanted to know.
“Because — because Karen told Mr. Drucker the truth about me. But I did not tell you the truth about Karen.”
“What?” said Mommy.
“I was the one who left the door open,” said Andrew. “I let Midgie out. Then I got Karen in trouble, and now Karen is sticking up for me.”
“You let Midgie out?” said Mommy and I at the same time.
Andrew nodded. “Everyone had gone inside for lunch. I came in after you, but I could not find my best dinosaur. So I went back out to look for it. And that was when I left the door open. But I said Karen did it because I was mad at her.”
“Andrew,” said Mommy, “you know that was wrong, don’t you?”
Andrew nodded. His lip was trembling again. I almost felt sorry for him.
“Do you have anything to say to Karen?” Mommy asked Andrew.
“I am very, very, very, very, very, very sorry,” said my little brother.
“That is all — ” I started to say. Then I stopped. I realized I did not mean that. What Andrew had done was not all right. “I accept your apology,” I said to him in my best grown-up voice.
“Okay,” said Andrew.
Mommy and Seth gave Andrew a Very Big Punishment. They pointed out that he had put Midgie in danger, he had lied, and he had gotten me in trouble. Andrew had to stay in his room for an hour to think about what he had done. And he could not watch TV for a week.
“Karen,” Mommy said later, “I am sorry Seth and I did not believe you. I guess we were upset about Midgie. But we should have listened to you. We are taking back your punishment, of course. I will call Ms. Colman to tell her you may sing your solo. I hope you can forgive Seth and me.
I forgave them. And I told them I loved them.
Jambor
ee Night
“Shhh! Shhh!” I said.
“Quiet, people!” said Ms. Colman softly.
It was Friday night. It was Jamboree Night. In the auditorium, Mr. Posner’s kindergarteners were reciting their poem. “Once there was an elephant,” they said, “who tried to use the telephant.”
In the hallway, my classmates and I were waiting for our turn onstage. The first-graders were there, too, and the other kindergarten class. The older kids were waiting in classrooms.
I could hear the people in the auditorium laughing at the funny poem. Then I heard them clapping. I thought about the people in my two families. They were all there. Mommy and Seth and Daddy and Elizabeth and Nannie and my brothers and sisters. They were probably clapping with everybody else. I was glad they had come to Jamboree Night.
Nancy nudged me. “Isn’t it great about your solo, Karen?” she whispered.
I grinned. “I am so excited,” I said. (I was nervous, too.)
Hannie looked at me slyly. “Fake out on Pamela,” she said.
Nancy giggled. I giggled a little, too. But I felt funny. I had glanced at Pamela a few times while we waited in the hallway. Pamela looked very disappointed. I thought about the day before when she had rehearsed the solo. She had probably told her family that she would be singing it tonight. And they must have been very proud of her.
“Just a second,” I said to my friends. “I will be right back.”
I left Hannie and Nancy. I made my way to Pamela. “Can I talk to you?” I asked her. “It is important.”
Pamela and I talked for a few minutes. Then we talked to Ms. Colman. When we finished, I went back to my friends.
“What did you do?” Hannie whispered.
“You’ll find out,” I replied.
The kindergarteners finished performing. Then the first-graders performed. Finally I heard Ms. Colman say, “Okay, class. It is our turn.”
My classmates and I lined up. We filed into the auditorium. To our left were the people in the audience. To our right was the stage. We walked onto the stage the way Mrs. Noonan had told us to.
When we were standing in our rows, Mrs. Noonan turned to the audience. “This is Ms. Colman’s second-grade class,” she announced. “They are going to sing a medley of songs from The Wizard of Oz.”
I drew in a breath. I tried to make the butterflies in my stomach calm down. Relax, relax, I said to myself.
Mrs. Noonan began playing the piano. My friends and I began singing. My butterflies flew away.
When it was time for my solo, I looked over at Pamela. I nodded to her. Then I sang, “We’re off to see the wizard, the wonderful Wizard of Oz.”
Then Pamela sang, “We hear he is a whiz of a wiz, if ever a wiz there was.”
We traded lines that way until the solo part was finished. Then Pamela and I smiled at each other. We had both been able to sing by ourselves. I thought that was only fair.
When my classmates and I finished our medley, the audience clapped loudly. And I heard a long, loud whistle. (I think it was Sam.) We left the auditorium. We waited for the other classes to perform. At long last we were standing on the stage again — with every single student in Stoneybrook Academy. We sang our school song. The teachers and even some of the people in the audience sang with us. When Mrs. Noonan sounded the last note on the piano, everyone cheered. My friends and I jumped up and down. The Three Musketeers hugged each other. Jamboree Night was over. Our anniversary week was over. I felt tired and happy.
“I guess Mrs. Noonan was right,” Nancy said to me.
“About what?” I asked.
“Bad rehearsal, good performance.”
“I’ll say,” I replied.
And then I went looking for my two families.
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 © 1995 by Ann M. Martin
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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, 1995
e-ISBN 978-1-338-05779-9
Ann M. Martin, Karen's Tattletale
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