Karen's Book Read online

  The author gratefully acknowledges

  Stephanie Calmenson

  for her help

  with this book.

  Contents

  Title Page

  Dedication

  1 Is Anybody Home?

  2 A Tale of Two Cities

  3 Karen’s Idea

  4 Karen’s History Lesson

  5 Decisions, Decisions

  6 The Day I Was Born: Part One

  7 The Day I Was Born: Part Two

  8 Karen Says, “No!”

  9 Karen Brewer, Big Sister

  10 Little Friends Day School

  11 Karen’s Tea Party

  12 The Name Game

  13 Goosie and Moosie

  14 Meeting Seth

  15 Flower Girl: Part One

  16 Kristy Thomas

  17 The Witch’s Spell

  18 Flower Girl: Part Two

  19 Ms. Colman’s Class

  20 Karen’s Book

  About the Author

  Also Available

  Copyright

  Is Anybody Home?

  I was sitting at the kitchen table blowing bubbles in my milk. Blubble. Blubble. Blubble.

  “Bubboos!” said my little sister, Emily Michelle.

  I blew a little harder to impress her. The bubbles spilled over my glass, onto the table, and down to the floor.

  “You made a mess,” said David Michael, my stepbrother.

  “I will help you clean up,” said Nannie, my stepgrandmother. “Then I have to get back to work.”

  Nannie has her own candy-making business. She works out of our second kitchen. (It used to be our pantry.)

  While Nannie and I were cleaning up, Emily decided to blow bubbles too. But she did not do it right. That is because she is only two and a half. Instead of blowing, she snorted up some of her milk. The next thing we knew, she was coughing up the milk and her cup was on the floor.

  After cleaning up the new mess, Nannie took Emily back to the kitchen with her. That left David Michael and me. We had been playing together all morning. We were kind of tired of each other.

  “I am going upstairs to read a book,” said David Michael. That left just me.

  Daddy was in his office working. He works at home, like Nannie. When the door to his office is closed it means I am not supposed to bother him if I can help it. (The door was closed.)

  Elizabeth, my stepmother, was at her office downtown.

  Mommy and Seth, who is my stepfather, and Andrew, who is my little brother (he is four going on five), were in Chicago. (I will tell you why very soon.)

  Kristy, my stepsister, was at her friend Abby’s beach house.

  Charlie and Sam, my other stepbrothers, were at sleepaway camp. (They were counselors.)

  My best friend Hannie Papadakis had gone to visit her aunt in the country. And my other best friend, Nancy Dawes, was with her family at the shore.

  So I was alone on a Friday afternoon in August. I was B-O-R-E-D. That spells bored! I could not believe it. I am usually a very busy person.

  Who am I? My name is Karen Brewer. I am seven years old. I have blonde hair, blue eyes, and a bunch of freckles. (I have more freckles in the summertime because of the sun.) I am a glasses-wearer. I have two pairs. I have a blue pair for reading. I have a pink pair to wear the rest of the time. I do not have prescription sunglasses yet. But maybe I will. That will make three pairs of glasses!

  Anyway, that is who I am. The question now was, what am I going to do? Hmm … I know! I promised to tell you why Mommy, Seth, and Andrew are in Chicago. Are you ready? It is a long story.

  A Tale of Two Cities

  The story I have to tell you starts when I was very little. You already know some of it, but now I will tell you more.

  Back when I was little, my family was little too. It was just Mommy, Daddy, Andrew, and me. We all lived together in a big house in Stoneybrook, Connecticut.

  Then Mommy and Daddy started having troubles. They argued all the time. They tried to work things out but they just could not do it. So they explained to Andrew and me that they love each of us very much, but they could not live together anymore. And they got divorced. Mommy moved to a little house not far away in Stoneybrook. She took Andrew and me with her. Then she met Seth. She and Seth got married, which is how Seth became my stepfather. My family had grown a little bigger.

  After the divorce, Daddy stayed in the big house. (It is the house he grew up in.) He met Elizabeth and they got married. Elizabeth had been married once before and had four children. They are my stepsister and stepbrothers, Kristy, David Michael, Sam, and Charlie. Kristy is thirteen and the best stepsister ever. David Michael is seven, like me. And Sam and Charlie are so old they are in high school.

  After awhile Daddy and Elizabeth adopted Emily from a faraway country called Vietnam. That is when Nannie came to live with us.

  Nannie is Elizabeth’s mother. She came to help out with Emily, but she really helps the whole family.

  So that is how I started out with a little family and wound up with a big family. And I have not even told you about the pets yet. There are lots of them!

  Midgie is Seth’s dog, and Rocky is Seth’s cat. Emily Junior is my pet rat. (I named her after Emily, of course.) Bob is Andrew’s hermit crab.

  The pets at the big house are Shannon, David Michael’s Bernese mountain dog puppy; Scout, our training-to-be-a-guide-dog puppy; Boo-Boo, Daddy’s cranky old cat; Crystal Light the Second, my goldfish; and Goldfishie, Andrew’s llama … I mean fish.

  Andrew and I used to switch houses almost every month. We spent one month at the big house and one month at the little house.

  I gave us special names because we each have two of so many things. I started calling us Andrew Two-Two and Karen Two-Two. (I thought up those names after my teacher, Ms. Colman, read a book to our class. It was called Jacob Two-Two Meets the Hooded Fang.)

  We each have two families with two mommies and two daddies. We have two sets of toys and clothes and books. And we both have two bicycles, one at each house. I also have two best friends, Hannie and Nancy. Hannie lives across the street and one house over from the big house. Nancy lives next door to the little house.

  Then came Chicago, which is why I started to tell you this story in the first place. What happened is that Seth, who is a carpenter, was offered an excellent job in Chicago that would last for a few months. He tried commuting for a while. That means he flew back and forth between work in Chicago and home in Stoneybrook. That was hard on all of us. So Mommy, Seth, Andrew, me — plus Midgie, Rocky, Emily Junior, and Bob — moved to Chicago. Now I had two cities on top of everything else — Stoneybrook and Chicago.

  But I missed being in Stoneybrook very much. So I moved back. And here I am alone in the kitchen at the big house and I am B-O-R-E-D, which spells bored. What am I going to do now?

  Karen’s Idea

  I decided David Michael had a good idea when he went upstairs to read. I went to my room to do the same thing. And I knew just the book I wanted to read.

  Kristy had been reading some of the Little House books to me. (I told you she is the best stepsister ever.) The Little House books were written by Laura Ingalls Wilder, and they tell about her life. She was a real and true American pioneer. I love her books.

  I picked up the first one, Little House in the Big Woods, and looked at the pictures. When she was a little girl, Laura lived with her ma, pa, and two sisters in a small log cabin. Her pa built the cabin himself. It was a lot smaller than my little house, but five people lived in it.

  The three girls slept in trundle beds. (Those are little beds that slide underneath a big bed.) They helped their ma make cheese and butter. Their pa hunted, farmed, played his fiddle, and sang to his family. Laura Ingalls W
ilder had a happy and exciting life.

  I thought of someone else I know who has a happy and exciting life — well, most of the time. Me!

  I do not sleep in a trundle bed or churn butter (except once, for a school cooking project). But I do other exciting things.

  Hmm. Maybe I could write the story of my life the way Laura Ingalls Wilder wrote the story of hers. Only I would illustrate my story too. The book would be about me, Karen Brewer, and my family and friends because they are part of my life too. Ooh! This was a gigundoly good idea.

  Where would I start? I decided to start with the day I was born. That was a long time ago. Seven years. I did not remember much. In fact, I did not remember anything about the day I was born. Mommy and Daddy had told me stories, though. And I knew Daddy had pictures. I needed to do some research.

  I ran downstairs to Daddy’s office. His door was still closed.

  I stood there deciding what to do. Knock. Do not knock. Knock. Do not knock.

  Finally I felt as though I would burst if I did not knock on the door. Bursting would be an emergency situation. I knew Daddy would not want me to burst. Okay. I had to knock. I could not help it.

  Knock, knock!

  “Come in,” replied Daddy.

  I opened the door a crack and peeked in.

  “I am sorry to bother you when you are working,” I said. “But I really could not help it.”

  “That is all right,” said Daddy. “I was just about finished anyway. What can I do for you?”

  “You can help me with some research,” I replied.

  “Sure,” said Daddy. “What kind of research?”

  “I am going to write my life story. I need to look at my baby book.”

  “You have come to the right place,” said Daddy. “I keep it here in my office.”

  Yes! I was going to start my research right away. And I did not even have to burst.

  Karen’s History Lesson

  My baby book was white with pink lettering. The very first page was titled BABY’S FAMILY TREE. I had not seen it in a long time.

  “There are a few branches missing from this tree,” I said.

  “You are right,” Daddy replied. “Your tree has grown since Mommy and I wrote in this book.”

  It was still fun to look at. I found names of people I know and love, and names of people I have never met. But they were all part of my history. I turned the page. There was a picture of me as a smiling baby.

  “Hey, I was cute!” I said.

  “You still are,” replied Daddy.

  “You know what is funny? I had no hair in the picture, but I have a lot now. You and Mommy had lots of hair in the picture, but you do not have so much now,” I said.

  “Karen Brewer, did you take my hair?” asked Daddy, joking. “I want it back!”

  I leafed through a few more pages. I saw myself growing bigger and bigger.

  “May I borrow the book?” I asked.

  “Of course you may,” replied Daddy. “I also have some other things that might interest you.”

  He pulled out a box and opened it. It was full of drawings I made when I was little. Some of them were just scribbles.

  “You were a very good artist for your age, Karen,” said Daddy. “You were a good writer too. You could not write down the words yourself, but you told your stories to Mommy and me. We wrote them down for you.”

  Daddy showed me one of my stories. It was about shopping at the supermarket with Mommy.

  Karen go to market with Mommy. Buy milk. Buy eggs. Buy cookies. Eat cookies! Love cookies! The end.

  “Thank goodness I am a better writer now,” I said. “Okay. I need to know all about the day I was born. I know you and Mommy have told me the story lots of times. But I may have forgotten some things.”

  “Ask me any questions,” said Daddy. “I will answer the best I can.”

  “Okay,” I replied. “Here goes.”

  I had a long list of questions. I wanted to know exactly what the weather was like on the day I was born. What time was I born? How much did I weigh? How tall was I? Who were my first visitors? Did I cry much?

  I asked Daddy all my questions and he answered them for me one by one. We even called Mommy in Chicago to see if there was anything else she wanted to tell me. By the time we were done, I knew the whole story of the day I was born. And I had lots of other stories too.

  Decisions, Decisions

  I carried my baby book upstairs. I was ready to begin writing. Watch out, Laura Ingalls Wilder!

  I grabbed a pencil and a sheet of paper from my desk. I looked at the pencil and paper. They were not in great shape. The pencil was short and chewed. (I wondered whose pencil it was. I do not chew my pencils.) Hardly any eraser was left. And the sheet of paper I picked was creased in one corner.

  I decided I was not ready to begin writing after all. A person’s life story is a very important document and it should be beautifully written.

  I found a brand-new pencil. It was pink with white flowers. Nannie had given it to me the week before. (Nannie was not even on my family tree. I would have to fix that.) Then I found clean paper with no creases.

  I took my paper and pencil to my bed. It is a cozy place to write.

  “Move over, please, Moosie and Goosie,” I said.

  Moosie and Goosie are my stuffed cats who look exactly the same. Goosie usually lives at the little house, but was with me at the big house while the rest of my family was in Chicago. I was glad Moosie and Goosie were getting along so well.

  I puffed up my pillows and leaned back. I was finally ready. In the middle of the first page, I wrote in big letters:

  I took another sheet of paper and wrote at the top:

  Then I began my story.

  No. That was not right. Daddy said I was born on a warm spring day. But that did not sound so exciting. Maybe the real and true story needed a little help. I tried again.

  Hmm. Maybe that was too much. Daddy had not said anything about the weather announcer. I tried again:

  I looked at Moosie and Goosie. I could tell they did not believe my story. I erased the last three sentences. Here is what was left:

  That was the real and true story. You know what? It was not a bad way to start. I decided to tell my story the way it really happened. All I had to do was figure out what to say next.

  I looked at one of my baby pictures. I closed my eyes and made believe I was a baby again. I imagined everyone going wild. They were holding me, feeding me, and — ooh! — they were tickling me!

  Wait a minute. I was going too fast. Before I was tickled, I had to be born. Mommy and Daddy had told me about that day lots of times. And now Daddy had answered my questions. I was finally ready to begin my story.

  The Day I Was Born: Part One

  It was a beautiful spring day. Mommy and Daddy were up bright and early even though it was the weekend.

  “Good morning, Lisa,” said Daddy. “How are you feeling?”

  “I am fine, thank you,” replied Mommy.

  Daddy looked down at Mommy’s belly.

  “And how are you feeling this morning, Baby?” he asked.

  Mommy smiled. “Baby seems to be just fine,” she said.

  “Would the two of you like me to make breakfast for you?” asked Daddy.

  “We would love it!” replied Mommy.

  Daddy made pancakes with sliced strawberries on top. He drank a cup of coffee. Mommy drank a glass of milk.

  “Would you like to go for a walk?” asked Mommy. “It is beautiful out, and I am feeling restless.”

  “That sounds good to me,” replied Daddy. “We can stop at some Saturday-morning yard sales. Who knows what we will find?”

  Mommy put on a sweater. She could not button it because her belly was too big. Mommy and Daddy went outside, holding hands. It was still very early, but they were not the only ones out.

  “Good morning!” called a gray-haired man, walking a gray-haired dog. “When do you think your baby will be born
?”

  “Any day now,” replied Daddy proudly.

  At the corner, a woman on her bicycle stopped to wait for the light. She looked at Mommy and Daddy and smiled.

  “What are you going to name your baby?” she asked.

  “We are going to wait and meet our baby before we pick a name,” said Mommy.

  “Do you think it is a boy or a girl?” asked the woman.

  “We will be happy either way!” said Daddy.

  The light changed. “Good luck,” called the woman as she rode ahead.

  “Look, there is a sign for a yard sale up ahead,” said Mommy.

  The sale was in the backyard of a small house. Right away Mommy and Daddy saw something they both loved. It was a beautiful old rocking chair, sitting on the grass in the sun.

  “We can rock our baby in that chair,” said Mommy. “It is perfect!”

  “I love that chair too,” replied Daddy. “But I do not want to buy it now. Some people say it is unlucky to buy too many things for a baby before it is born.”

  “But the chair may not be here if we wait,” said Mommy. “Anyway, it does not have to be for our baby. We have a big house and can always use an extra chair.”

  “Well, maybe you are right,” said Daddy.

  “No. We will wait,” said Mommy. “We can always find another pretty chair.”

  Mommy and Daddy kept changing their minds. They were rocking back and forth like the you-know-what. Just then, the owner of the house saw them.

  “Hi, folks,” he said. “How are you today? I will be happy to answer your questions. I know this chair well.”

  “Oh, my,” said Mommy. “I need to sit down. I hope you do not mind.” She sat in the rocking chair.

  Daddy knelt down beside her. “Are you all right?”

  “I am fine. I think our baby is ready to be born. That is all,” replied Mommy, smiling.

  “Oh, my,” said Daddy.

  “Oh, my,” said the man. “We will get you to the hospital right away.”