Karen's School Bus Read online

  The author gratefully acknowledges

  Stephanie Calmenson

  for her help

  with this book.

  Contents

  Title Page

  Dedication

  1 September Saturday

  2 Karen’s Cool Families

  3 See You at the Bus Stop

  4 Ew, Gross!

  5 A Day at Home

  6 Ms. Colman’s Class

  7 Something Squishy

  8 Crybaby

  9 Cake Walk

  10 Meanies

  11 Hot Chili Sandwich

  12 I Hate This Bus

  13 Baby, Baby!

  14 No More Bus, Yippee!

  15 Mr. Wilson’s Promise

  16 The Circus Cake

  17 Setting Up

  18 Fall Festival

  19 Splash!

  20 Mr. Wilson’s Surprise

  About the Author

  Also Available

  Copyright

  September Saturday

  Ding-dong!

  “I will get it!” I said.

  I raced out of my room and down the stairs of the big house. I already knew who was at the door. It was my friend, Hannie.

  “Hi, Karen! Are you ready to go?” said Hannie.

  We were going skating in the neighborhood.

  “I have to get my skates. I will be right back,” I said.

  It was a September Saturday morning. September is one of my favorite months. When September comes, school starts. I love school. As soon as September is over, it is October. That means it is Halloween. I love Halloween. November and Thanksgiving come next. Did you know I love Thanksgiving? Then comes December. And Christmas. You guessed it. I love Christmas. I love lots of things.

  My name is Karen Brewer. I am seven years old. I have blonde hair, blue eyes, and a bunch of freckles. Oh, yes. I wear glasses. I have two pairs. I wear my blue pair when I am reading. I wear my pink pair the rest of the time. (I do not wear them in the bathtub, or when I am sleeping.)

  I got my skates out of my closet. It was bright and sunny. It was a perfect roller-skating day.

  On my way back downstairs, I bumped into Emily Michelle. She is my little sister. She is two and a half.

  “Whee!” said Emily. She says that whenever she sees roller skates.

  I let her spin the wheels a few times with her fingers.

  “Whee!” she said again.

  “I have to go, Emily. Hannie is waiting for me,” I said.

  I was halfway downstairs when I bumped into Andrew. He is my little brother. He is four going on five.

  “I want to go roller skating, too,” he said.

  “Sorry,” I replied. “I am going with Hannie.”

  “Beep, beep! You are blocking the stairs,” called my stepbrother, David Michael. He whizzed by us.

  Then Daddy poked his head out of his room.

  “Why don’t you invite Hannie back here for lunch after you skate?” he said.

  “Thanks, Daddy. I will,” I replied.

  By the time I got back down to Hannie, I had seen almost everybody in my big-house family. That was a lot of people! I had also tripped over our puppy and almost stomped on our cat’s tail.

  Hannie was waiting for me outside. She was skating back and forth in front of my house.

  “What took you so long?” she asked.

  “You know my big-house family,” I said. “You cannot get out the door without something going on. That is because there are so many people.”

  My big-house family is not the only family I have either. I have another one. I will tell you all about it.

  Karen’s Cool Families

  When I was little, the big house was my only house. I lived there with Mommy, Daddy, and Andrew. It was a big house with a little family.

  Then Mommy and Daddy started fighting a lot. They explained to Andrew and me that the fights had nothing to do with us. They loved both of us very much. But Mommy and Daddy could not get along with each other anymore. So they got a divorce.

  Mommy moved out of the big house with Andrew and me. We moved to a little house not too far away in Stoneybrook, Connecticut. Then Mommy met a nice man named Seth Engle. Mommy and Seth got married. So now Seth is my stepfather. Every other month Andrew and I live in the little house with Mommy, Seth, Midgie (Seth’s dog), Rocky (Seth’s cat), Emily Junior (my pet rat), and Bob (Andrew’s hermit crab).

  Daddy stayed in the big house. It is the house he grew up in. He met somebody nice, too. Her name is Elizabeth Thomas. Daddy and Elizabeth got married. So now Elizabeth is my stepmother. She was married before and had four children, who are my stepbrothers and stepsister. They are Sam and Charlie, who are so old they are in high school; David Michael, who is seven, like me; and Kristy, who is thirteen and the best stepsister ever.

  Then there is Emily Michelle. I already told you that she is two and a half. But I did not tell you that she was adopted from a faraway country called Vietnam. (She is very cute. That is why I named my pet rat after her.)

  Nannie lives at the big house, too. She is Elizabeth’s mother. That makes her my stepgrandmother. She came to live with us so she could help take care of Emily. But really she helps take care of everyone.

  The puppy I tripped over is a big, floppy Bernese mountain dog named Shannon. The cat I almost stomped on is a grouchy old tiger cat named Boo-Boo. (If I had stomped on his tail he would have had a real boo-boo!) Then there are two goldfish. Crystal Light the Second belongs to me. Goldfishie belongs to Andrew. The last two pets at the big house are my rat, Emily Junior, and Andrew’s hermit crab, Bob. They go wherever we go.

  Guess what. I have a special name for Andrew and me. I call us Andrew Two-Two and Karen Two-Two. (I got that idea when my teacher read a book to our class called, Jacob Two-Two Meets the Hooded Fang.) I call us two-twos because we have two of so many things. We have two houses and two families. We have two sets of clothes and toys and books, one at each house. I have two stuffed cats. (Goosie is my little-house cat. Moosie is my big-house cat.) And I have two pieces of Tickly, my special blanket. (I only have one pair of roller skates, though. It is a good thing I remembered to bring them to the big house. Otherwise I could not have skated with Hannie.)

  I also have two best friends. Hannie Papadakis lives across the street and one house down from Daddy’s house. Nancy Dawes lives next door to Mommy’s house.

  Sometimes it is hard being a two-two. I miss Mommy when I am with Daddy. And I miss Daddy when I am with Mommy. But those are my families. Most of the time I think they are pretty cool.

  See You at the Bus Stop

  “The wheels on the bus go round and round all over town!”

  “Ninety-nine bottles of pop on the wall. Ninety-nine bottles of pop! If one of those bottles should happen to fall, ninety-eight bottles of pop on the wall!”

  It was Sunday. Hannie and I were up in my room singing every bus song we knew. That was because tomorrow we were going to school a special new way.

  The name of my school is Stoneybrook Academy. Hannie, Nancy, and I go there together. We are even in the same class. (We do almost everything together. That is why we call ourselves the Three Musketeers.)

  Our teacher’s name is Ms. Colman. She is a very excellent teacher. She always makes our lessons interesting and fun. And she hardly ever yells. Sometimes I call out in class when I am not supposed to. But Ms. Colman does not get angry. She just reminds me to use my indoor voice and to raise my hand.

  Last week Ms. Colman made a Surprising Announcement. (Those are my favorite kind.) She told us that anyone who lived a certain distance from school would get to ride on the new school buses.

  “We are so lucky,” said Hannie now, when we had stopped singing bus songs.
“If we lived one block closer to school, we could not ride on the bus.”

  “I am double lucky,” I said. “Both my houses are far enough away. I will ride with you when I live at the big house. I will ride with Nancy when I live at the little house.”

  “I wish the Three Musketeers could ride together. That would be triple fun,” said Hannie.

  “I know. We had fun on the bus when we went to sleepaway camp,” I replied.

  “And we always have fun when we go on a bus for a class trip,” said Hannie.

  “Except the time we went to the airport,” I said. “Remember how Natalie almost got sick? And some of the kids made fun of her.”

  “Poor Natalie. I am glad I do not get bus sick,” said Hannie.

  “Me too,” I replied. “Hey, I have an idea. We can make believe we are Lovely Ladies on a bus in Paris. Oui, ma chérie?”

  “What did you say?” asked Hannie.

  “I said ‘Yes, my dear’ in French. Sam taught me that. He is learning French in high school,” I said.

  “We make believe we are going to Paris all the time,” said Hannie. “Let’s go somewhere else.”

  “How about New York City?” I said. “I can be a French tourist. Oui, oui?”

  “Sí, señorita,” said Hannie. “That means ‘yes, miss,’ in Spanish. I will be a tourist from Spain.”

  Just then, Daddy knocked on our door.

  “Sorry to break up the party, girls. But it is almost five o’clock,” said Daddy.

  “Wow, I have got to get home,” said Hannie. “This day went so fast. We had fun!”

  “And we will have fun tomorrow on our new school bus,” I said. “See you at the bus stop.”

  “Sí, sí,” said Hannie.

  “Oui, oui!” I replied.

  Ew, Gross!

  It was Monday. Bus day!

  I put on my favorite outfit in honor of my first school bus ride. This is what I wore: black leggings, yellow socks, black sneakers, yellow taxi cab sweater. (I would have worn a school bus sweater. But I did not have one. I hoped this would not hurt the bus driver’s feelings.)

  The bus stop was just down the street. I walked there by myself. Hannie and her brother, Linny, were waiting with a few other kids from our block. Linny is David Michael’s friend.

  “Hi, everyone!” I called.

  I was gigundoly excited about my first school bus morning.

  “Hey, listen to this joke,” I said. “Why didn’t the boy take the school bus home?”

  “I don’t know,” said Hannie. “Why?”

  “Because his mother would just make him take it back!” I said.

  I laughed loudly. I knew the joke was not so funny. But I had nervous butterflies in my stomach. Laughing made me feel better.

  “Here comes the bus!” said Linny.

  A big yellow bus was coming toward us. The front of the bus looked like a face with headlights for eyes. I was glad it was a friendly face.

  I stood up tall. There were going to be kids in every grade from kindergarten to sixth on the bus. I did not want to look like a baby.

  The bus pulled up to the curb. Swish. The doors flew open.

  “You go first,” I whispered to Linny.

  He bounced up the steps. Hannie and I looked at each other.

  “Ready?” I said.

  “Ready,” said Hannie.

  We held hands and climbed onto the bus. It was more than half filled. The oldest kids were sitting at the back.

  Linny had found a seat in the middle of the bus next to his pal, Bart Cole.

  “Hi, Karen. Hi, Hannie,” called Liddie Yuan.

  Liddie was sitting next to Edwin. They are in Mr. Berger’s class. Mr. Berger is the other second-grade teacher. His class is next door to Ms. Colman’s.

  Hannie and I slid into two seats at the front with the other kids our age.

  Swish. The doors closed and the bus started down the street.

  Bump. Bump-bump. The bus felt very bouncy. Maybe it was the butterflies in my stomach. Maybe I had eaten too much breakfast. Maybe …

  Uh-oh. It was a good thing I had the aisle seat. Before I knew what was happening, I had thrown up all over the place.

  “Ew, gross!” called a voice from the back.

  “Are you okay, Karen?” said Hannie. She put her hand on my shoulder.

  I nodded. I felt embarrassed. At least I did not feel sick anymore.

  “I don’t see why we have to ride the bus with babies,” said the voice from the back.

  “Hadley Smith you are being mean,” said a second voice.

  “Well, it is gross,” said the girl named Hadley.

  I turned around quickly. The girl named Hadley was holding her nose.

  I wished the bus would get to school fast.

  A Day at Home

  As soon as I got to school, I was sent to see Mrs. Pazden. She is the school nurse.

  “I am perfectly fine,” I said.

  “I am glad you feel better, Karen,” said Mrs. Pazden. “But you look a little pale. And your skin feels clammy.”

  Butterflies in my stomach. Clams on my skin. I was a walking zoo.

  Mrs. Pazden called the big house. Nannie came to pick me up in the Pink Clinker. (That is the name of Nannie’s car.) She had Emily with her.

  “I feel fine,” I said to Nannie. “Really I do.”

  “You do look pale,” said Nannie. “A day at home will be good for you.”

  Guess what. It was. I had a lot to keep me busy. I played with Moosie. I fed Crystal Light. I cleaned Emily Junior’s cage. And I was a very good helper for Nannie. Mainly I watched Emily while Nannie did things around the house.

  “There is no school for me today. But that does not mean that you cannot go to school,” I said. “Miss Karen’s School is now in session.”

  I once had a school for Andrew and some other little kids in the neighborhood. I started out being very strict. No one had a good time. So I decided to be a nice teacher like Ms. Colman. Then school was fun.

  “ ’Tory time?” said Emily.

  “Sure it is story time,” I said. “What story would you like to hear?”

  Emily went to the bookcase and pulled out Millions of Cats.

  “That is a good one,” I said.

  When I finished reading I took out paper and crayons. While Emily scribbled, I drew lots of cats all over the page. (Maybe Emily was drawing cats, too. But they looked like scribbles to me.)

  By lunchtime, I had forgotten about getting sick in the morning. Nannie made soup and tuna fish sandwiches. I ate every bite.

  “Can we make butterscotch pudding?” I asked. “Then everyone can have it for dessert at dinner.”

  I love to make pudding. These are my jobs: Measuring and pouring the milk. Stirring the pudding. Licking the pot. (That is my favorite part.)

  Emily and I played school again after lunch. When we finished, I went to call Hannie. I wanted to make sure everyone at school missed me. And I wanted to hear all about the bus ride home.

  “Hi, Hannie!” I said.

  Hannie asked me if I was feeling better. When I said I was, she told me about the bus ride home.

  The butterflies started coming back. Little baby ones. That is because on the bus ride home, the big kids were still talking about how I threw up. Hannie said that girl Hadley was doing most of the talking.

  “That is okay,” I said to Hannie. “They will forget all about it by tomorrow.”

  I hoped I was right.

  Ms. Colman’s Class

  On Tuesday, I almost missed the bus. I had to run down the block to make it in time.

  That is because I ran back to get my Little Mermaid sunglasses. I hoped the kids on the bus would not recognize me when I had them on.

  “Watch out! Here comes Barf-Face!” called Hadley from the back of the bus.

  I guess the glasses did not work. They started teasing Hannie next. Only not as much.

  “Isn’t that Friend-of-Barf-Face sitting next to her
?” said another kid.

  “It must be. No one else would be brave enough to sit so close to a Barf-Machine,” said Hadley, giggling.

  I was glad when someone started singing “Ninety-nine Bottles of Pop.” Other kids joined in. Soon we could not hear Hadley anymore.

  As soon as the bus stopped, Hannie and I raced off and into Ms. Colman’s class.

  Nancy’s bus had come earlier. She was sitting at her desk. She and Hannie sit all the way at the back of the room. I used to sit there with them. Then I got my glasses and Ms. Colman moved me to the front of the room. She said I could see better there.

  “Hi,” said Nancy. “How was the bus this morning?”

  Before I had a chance to answer, Ms. Colman walked in.

  “Please take your seats, everyone,” she said.

  I walked to the front of the room. I sit between two other glasses-wearers. They are Natalie Springer and Ricky Torres. (Ricky is my pretend husband. We got married on the playground at recess one afternoon.)

  “Karen, would you like to take attendance this morning?” asked Ms. Colman.

  “Yes!” I replied. Taking attendance is very cool.

  I stood by Ms. Colman’s desk. I looked around the room and checked off the names of the kids I saw. Hannie and Nancy. Check, check. Natalie and Ricky. Check, check. I saw Pamela Harding, my best enemy. Check. And I saw Pamela’s best buddies, Leslie Morris and Jannie Gilbert. Check, check. Addie Sydney had just rolled into the room in her wheelchair. Check. There was Audrey Green. She tried to be my twin once, but we could not fool anyone. Check. The real twins, Terri and Tammy Barkan were there. Check, check. Hank Reubens and Chris Lamar were there. Check, check. At first I did not see Bobby Gianelli, the sometimes bully. Then he popped up from under his desk. He must have been tying his shoe. Check.

  I kept looking around and checking off names. Finally I said, “Everyone is here today.”

  “That is good because I need everyone’s help,” replied Ms. Colman. “In a couple of weeks we will take part in the school’s Fall Festival. We will work to raise money to buy new books for our school library.”

  “What will we do to raise money?” asked Addie.