Karen's Surprise Read online

  For Susan and Ashley,

  who keep my life from being too surprising.

  Thank you.

  Contents

  Title Page

  Dedication

  1 Holidays

  2 Back and Forth

  3 A Thanksgiving Celebration

  4 Turkey Stuffing

  5 The First Thanksgiving

  6 “Who Will Be the Turkey?”

  7 The Song of the Vegetables

  8 Pecan Pie and Sweet Potatoes

  9 Disney World

  10 Karen’s Good Idea

  11 Olives and Hot Apple Cider

  12 Rehearsing

  13 Play Day

  14 Karen’s Thanksgiving Surprise

  15 The Beginning

  16 Thanksgiving at the Little House

  17 Thanksgiving at the Big House

  18 Karen’s Stomachache

  19 Never Again

  20 It Isn’t Easy Being a Two-Two

  About the Author

  Also Available

  Copyright

  Holidays

  “Hmm, hmm-hmm, hmm, hmmm-hmmm. The pumpkin ran away, before Thanksgiving Day. Said he, ‘They’ll make a pie of me if I should stay.’ Hmm, hmm-hmm.”

  “What’s that song?” asked Andrew. Andrew is my little brother. He is four, going on five; I just turned seven.

  “It’s a Thanksgiving song,” I told him. “We’re learning about Thanksgiving in school.”

  “So are we,” said Andrew. “Thanksgiving is when you eat a lot.”

  Oh, Andrew, I thought. That’s just what you learn in preschool. There is so much more to Thanksgiving than eating. We had been learning lots of things about the holidays in my school. I was glad. I just love holidays.

  My name is Karen Brewer. I have blonde hair and freckles. I wear glasses. I even have two pairs. One pair is for reading and the other pair is for the rest of the time (except when I am asleep). I am in second grade at Stoneybrook Academy. My teacher’s name is Ms. Colman. She is gigundo nice. She never yells. And she likes holidays as much as I do. First we celebrated Halloween. We made black cats and pumpkins and ghosts and put them up in our classroom. Yesterday we took them down. Now we are making Thanksgiving decorations. We are making turkeys and American Indians and Pilgrims.

  “Andrew,” I said, “let me tell you what Thanksgiving is really about.”

  “Not food?” asked Andrew. He and I were in the playroom at Mommy’s house. We were on the floor, making a town out of blocks. Andrew was in charge of driving toy cars through the town, and sometimes crashing them.

  “Yes, it’s about food,” I answered my little brother. “But it’s about other things, too. When we celebrate Thanksgiving, we are remembering the very first people who ever had Thanksgiving. They were called Pilgrims.”

  “What are Pilgerms?” interrupted Andrew.

  “Pilgrims,” I corrected him. “They were some of the first people who lived in America. I mean, except for the Indians. The Indians were already here. They had lived here forever. But then the Pilgrims came from England to find a new home. They had to sail all the way across the ocean. And when they got to America they had to build houses and grow food. But the winter was very, very cold and snowy, so the Indians helped the Pilgrims. Especially two of the Indians. They were named Samoset and Squanto. They — ”

  “Squanto!” shrieked Andrew. He began to laugh. “That’s a funny name!”

  I looked at Andrew. I made my face very serious. “Squanto is an Indian name. Indian names are different from our names. I bet Squanto would think Andrew is a very funny name. I bet Squanto would laugh.”

  “Really?” said Andrew. He stopped giggling. He crashed two more cars.

  Andrew and I played with our town. I built three new houses. “I wonder,” I said, looking at the houses, “where we will go for Thanksgiving this year. Mommy’s house or Daddy’s house.”

  “Mommy’s,” said Andrew. “We had Thanksgiving with Daddy last year.”

  “I know, but then remember Daddy was upset after Christmas? He said that you and I spent Easter and Christmas with Mommy last year. Plus we live here most of the time. He said that wasn’t fair. He said he wanted the holidays to be different this year. Especially Thanksgiving and Christmas. And Mommy said, ‘Okay, we will work something out.’ Remember?”

  Andrew nodded, but he looked worried.

  I tried to cheer him up. “Maybe,” I said, “we will have two Thanksgivings and two Christmases!”

  “Yeah!” cried Andrew.

  Back and Forth

  Here is why Andrew and I might have two Thanksgivings and two Christmases: because our mommy and daddy are divorced. That means that they do not live together anymore. They are not married. They used to be married. That was when they had Andrew and me. I liked our family then. But after awhile, Mommy and Daddy decided that they did not love each other. They still loved Andrew and me, but not each other. So they got a divorce.

  And then guess what. They each got married again! Mommy married a man named Seth. Seth is my stepfather. Daddy married a woman named Elizabeth. Elizabeth is my stepmother. Mommy and Andrew and Seth and I live in a little house. Seth has a cat named Rocky and a dog named Midgie. Andrew and I live with Mommy and Seth most of the time. But every other weekend and for two weeks during the summer, we live with daddy. It is a good thing that Mommy and Daddy both live in the same town, which is Stoneybrook, Connecticut.

  Daddy’s house is big. That is another good thing. Why is it good? Because so many people live in it. First of all, there are Daddy and Elizabeth. Then there are Elizabeth’s children. She has four. They are my stepbrothers and stepsister. Charlie and Sam are old. They go to high school. David Michael is seven, like me. And Kristy is thirteen. I love Kristy! She is one of my favorite people. She is a baby-sitter. She is even the president of a business called the Baby-sitters Club. (Kristy is a gigundo nice baby-sitter.) Also at the big house is Emily Michelle. She is my adopted sister. Daddy and Elizabeth adopted her. She came from a country called Vietnam. Then there is Nannie. She is Elizabeth’s mother and she helps take care of Emily Michelle. Let’s see, there are also Shannon and Boo-Boo (David Michael’s puppy and Daddy’s fat, mean cat). And, of course, there are Andrew and me (sometimes).

  Here is another thing. I call myself Karen Two-Two, and I call my brother Andrew Two-Two. I got the idea from the title of a book Ms. Colman read to our class. It was called Jacob Two-Two Meets the Hooded Fang. I think two-two is a good name for Andrew and me because we have two of so many things. We have two houses, the big house and the little house. We have two mommies and two daddies and two dogs and two cats. We each have two bicycles, one at Mommy’s and one at Daddy’s. (Well, Andrew has two tricycles.) We each have clothes and toys and books and games — at the little house and at the big house. I even have two best friends. Hannie Papadakis lives across the street from Daddy and one house down. Nancy Dawes lives next door to Mommy. Hannie and Nancy and I are all in Ms. Colman’s class. We call ourselves the Three Musketeers.

  Most of the time I like being a two-two. I like having two houses. I like having two stuffed cats (Moosie at the big house, Goosie at the little house). And I like having Kristy for my big sister. But … some things about being a two-two are not so good. I only had one special blanket, Tickly. And I kept leaving Tickly at Mommy’s or Daddy’s house. Finally I had to rip Tickly in half so I could have a piece at each house.

  Then there is the problem with holidays. Andrew and I usually switch off holidays. But when Andrew and I are at one house we miss the people at the other house — and they miss us. So this year there were going to be some changes. None of the grown-ups had said a word, though.

  What were we going to do about Thanksgi
ving?

  A Thanksgiving Celebration

  “Okay, boys and girls. Please put your workbooks away,” said Ms. Colman.

  I slid my workbook in my desk and sat up straight. Ms. Colman had that sound in her voice. It was the sound that meant she was going to make a Surprising Announcement. Ms. Colman is always making Surprising Announcements. That is one reason I like her so much.

  It was a Tuesday afternoon. School was almost over for the day. I sneaked a peek at the back of our classroom. I was looking at Hannie and Nancy. They sit in the very last row. I used to sit with them, but when I got my glasses, Ms. Colman moved me to the front row. I sit with Ricky Torres and Natalie Springer. They wear glasses, too. Ricky used to be a pest, but now we like each other. I am glad Ricky sits right next to me.

  Anyway, Hannie and Nancy looked excited. They knew a Surprising Announcement was coming. So did Ricky. We waited for Ms. Colman to begin speaking. When she did, she said, “Class, Thanksgiving is just a few weeks away and we are going to do a special project to celebrate the holiday.” (Goody! I thought.) “I will write three projects on the board. Then you may vote for one of them.”

  Here is what Ms. Colman wrote on the board:

  Oh, boy! I would have a hard time deciding on just one project. Eating Thanksgiving dinner in our classroom sounded like fun. I like to cook. Making a book for our library sounded like fun, too. It would be exciting to be a real author. But putting on a play sounded like lots of fun. I just love being in plays. So does Nancy. Nancy is going to be an actress one day. I knew Nancy would vote for the play. I decided to do the same thing. I was sure I would get to be a star in the play.

  “Are you ready to vote?” Ms. Colman asked our class.

  “Yes!” we cried.

  We closed our eyes. We each voted for one project.

  “Okay,” said Ms. Colman. “You may open your eyes. Here are the results. Six people wanted to fix a dinner, four people wanted to write a book, and seven people wanted to put on a play. So we will put on a play.”

  “Yea!” I cried. (I could not help it.)

  “We will put it on for our families and for the students in kindergarten, first grade, second grade, and third grade,” added Ms. Colman.

  All right! I thought. I would have a big audience when I was the star of our play.

  * * *

  When school ended that day, I ran to Hannie and Nancy. “A play! Can you believe it?” I cried.

  “This is great!” exclaimed Nancy. “I know I will get a big part in the play. You probably will, too, Karen.”

  “We better practice our acting, just in case,” I said. “We should practice looking happy and sad and excited and scared.”

  “I can cry real tears whenever I want to,” Nancy said.

  “You can?” I had not known that.

  “Yes,” said Nancy proudly.

  Hmm. I hoped I would do as well as Nancy when we tried out for the play. Ms. Colman had not said anything about tryouts, but I figured I had time to learn how to cry, too.

  Turkey Stuffing

  “Karen! Dinner!” called Mommy.

  “Coming!” I called back. I was in my room playing with my rat. Her name is Emily Junior. I named her after my adopted sister. (That is another bad thing about being a two-two. When I go to Daddy’s, I have to leave Emily Junior behind. I miss her.)

  I put Emily Junior back in her cage and I ran downstairs. When Andrew and Mommy and Seth and I were sitting in the kitchen and had been served, I said, “Guess what.”

  “What?” asked everyone.

  I could not believe that I had saved up the news about our class play, but I had. I had not told anyone about it all afternoon. Now was the time. “Our class,” I began importantly, “is going to put on a Thanksgiving play. We’re going to put it on the day before Thanksgiving.”

  “That’s wonderful!” exclaimed Seth.

  “Terrific!” added Mommy.

  “I’m sure I will have a big part in the play. Nancy, too,” I said.

  “When will you try out for it?” asked Seth.

  “I don’t know. Ms. Colman didn’t say. I guess as soon as we know what the play will be about. I have to practice my acting. I can look sad, but Nancy can cry real tears — whenever she needs to. I bet she will get a bigger part than I will.”

  “Just do your best,” said Mommy.

  “I will,” I told her. Then I asked, “Will you and Andrew and Seth and Daddy and Elizabeth and maybe Nannie and Emily Michelle come to the play? I really want you all to come and see me.”

  “We’ll try,” said Mommy. “I’m sure Seth and I can leave work for an hour or so during the day. Your father and Elizabeth probably can, too.”

  “Mommy?” spoke up Andrew. “Where are Karen and I going to have Thanksgiving?”

  I saw Mommy and Seth look at each other. That is what adults do before they have to tell you something that they don’t want to say.

  “Well,” replied Mommy, “this year everyone wants to celebrate Thanksgiving on Thursday.”

  “That’s when you’re supposed to celebrate it,” I pointed out.

  “Right,” said Mommy. “And we all want you and Andrew to celebrate with us. Seth and I want you with us on Thursday, and so do your father and Elizabeth.”

  Hmm. That was a problem. “So what are we going to do?” I asked.

  “You’re going to have two Thanksgiving feasts on the same day. First you’ll have dinner here. Then you’ll go to Daddy’s in the afternoon and eat another dinner.”

  “Two feasts!” I cried. “Two in one day! We’ll be as stuffed as turkeys! We will be turkey stuffing!”

  “I don’t want to be turkey stuffing,” said Andrew. He looked like he might cry.

  “Don’t worry. It will be fun,” I told my brother. “I bet not many kids get to have two Thanksgivings in one day. That will be gigundo special.”

  “It will?” said Andrew.

  “I’m sure it will.”

  After dinner, I was so excited about Thanksgiving that I wanted to tell my friends about it. I picked up the phone in the kitchen. I started to dial Nancy’s number. Then I stopped. I did not want to talk to Nancy, and I knew why. I was a little bit mad at her. She could make herself cry, and I could not.

  So I called Hannie instead.

  “Guess what!” I said. “Andrew and I are going to have Thanksgiving at the little house and Thanksgiving at the big house — all in the same day.”

  “Karen, you are so lucky!” Hannie replied.

  The First Thanksgiving

  In school the next day, Ms. Colman said to our class, “What shall our Thanksgiving play be about?”

  Six kids shot their hands in the air.

  Ms. Colman smiled. “I’m glad that so many of you have ideas, but let me ask you another question. Do we want to write the play ourselves? Writing a play is not easy, but it could be fun.”

  I remembered to raise my hand.

  “Yes, Karen?” said Ms. Colman.

  “If we don’t write the play, who will?” I asked.

  “Miss Kushel’s fifth-grade class is interested in writing a play. They could write a Thanksgiving play for us to perform. How many want Miss Kushel’s class to write our play?”

  Not one hand was raised.

  “Okay,” said Ms. Colman. “We’ll write it ourselves. Now, what should our play be about? Pamela?”

  Pamela Harding is a new girl in our class. She thinks she is so great because she wears very cool clothes, and her big sister lets her wear her perfume. Also, her father is a dentist and her mother writes books. Most of the girls in our class want to be Pamela’s best friend, even though she is a snob. But Hannie and Nancy and I do not like Pamela and she does not like us.

  “I think,” Pamela began, “that the play should be about all the creatures in the forest having a Thanksgiving dinner.”

  “Oh, barf,” Ricky Torres whispered to me.

  But Ms. Colman wrote Pamela’s idea on the board. Then she
wrote some more ideas on the board. When no one had any more ideas, we voted on the one we liked best. A lot of the girls voted for Pamela’s idea, but not enough.

  This is the play we voted for. I thought it was a very, very good idea. Natalie Springer thought it up. At the beginning of the play, a family with two parents, three children, and two grandparents are getting ready to celebrate Thanksgiving. On the night before the big day, the older girl in the family falls asleep and dreams that she and her family are Pilgrims. They share the very first Thanksgiving with the Indians. That is the first part of the play. (It is called Act I.) In Act II, the second part of the play, the girl wakes up on Thanksgiving Day. While she helps her family fix the big dinner, the food that they are preparing walks across the stage. That would be fun. We would need costumes that looked like peas and carrots and slices of pie and things.

  But the part that I wanted was Samantha, the girl who dreams about the first Thanks-giving. That was the biggest part in the play. Also, it reminded me of a ballet I saw once. It was called The Nutcracker. In the story, a little girl named Clara falls asleep on Christmas night and has a very wonderful dream.

  “I want to be Samantha,” I told Hannie and Nancy on the playground that day.

  “Me, too,” said Nancy. “It would be just like playing Clara.”

  “In The Nutcracker?” I asked. “That is what I was thinking!”

  “I wonder which one of you will get to be Samantha,” said Hannie.

  “Yeah,” I replied. I frowned at Nancy. She was frowning back at me. I did not want her to be Samantha, and she did not want me to be Samantha.

  Nancy and I did not talk to each other very much for the rest of recess.

  As soon as recess was over, I said to Ms. Colman, “When are we going to have the tryouts for our play?”

  “Oh,” replied Ms. Colman. “We’re not going to have tryouts. We will draw the parts from a hat.”

  I looked at Nancy with my mouth open. I could not believe what Ms. Colman had just said.