Karen's Secret Page 2

  “Karen? Are you listening?” said Ms. Colman. “I asked you please to put away your book and get ready for our math lesson.”

  “Sorry,” I said. I tried to think about math. But instead of looking at the blackboard, I kept looking at the door. I wanted Natalie to come back. But she did not come back to the room all morning. By lunchtime, I felt like crying.

  “Natalie!” I called, when my classmates and I reached the cafeteria. She was sitting at a table by herself. She looked even more upset than before.

  “What happened?” I asked. “What kind of test was it?”

  “I do not want to talk about it,” said Natalie.

  “Come on,” I said. “You can tell me.”

  Natalie shook her head. She would not say another word.

  I felt so bad, I could hardly eat my lunch. I managed to take one little bite. Then another. And another. Before I knew it, my sandwich was gone. And my milk too. Nancy and I ran outside.

  I did not want to tell. Really I did not. But I knew if I did not tell Natalie’s secret to someone, I would explode. All over the school yard. I decided I could tell Nancy. That was just one person. And she was a Musketeer. A Musketeer would know how to keep a secret.

  “Hey, Nancy,” I said. “I have something important to tell you. But it is a secret and you cannot tell anyone else. Okay?”

  “I can keep a secret,” said Nancy. “What is it?”

  I told Nancy about Natalie and her test. I told her how scared Natalie was.

  “Then she got called to the nurse’s office,” I said. “She must be really sick. But remember, you can’t tell anyone.”

  “I won’t,” said Nancy. “I promise.”

  “Thanks,” I said. “I knew I could count on you.”

  What Is Wrong with Natalie?

  “Attention, students. Will Natalie Springer please report to the nurse’s office?”

  Oh, no! Not again. It was Monday morning. Natalie pulled up her socks and hurried out the door.

  I waved good-bye. Then I turned to give Nancy an Important Look. She did not see me. She was whispering something to Hannie. They both looked very serious.

  “All right, class,” said Ms. Colman. “We are going to practice counting by twos up to one hundred. Karen, will you begin?”

  “Two …” I said. Then I added, “Four! That would be Natalie’s number.”

  “Thank you, Karen,” said Ms. Colman. “Ricky, please continue.”

  “Six,” said Ricky. (He is a very smart husband.)

  We went around and around the room until we reached one hundred. Natalie was gone the whole time.

  The same thing happened on Wednesday. An announcement came over the P.A. system for Natalie Springer. I turned to Nancy. She looked worried. So did Hannie. You know what? The whole back row — Nancy, Hannie, Hank Reubens, and Jannie Gilbert — looked worried.

  Natalie was called out again on Friday. When I turned around to look at Nancy, I saw that half the class looked worried. They must have noticed that Natalie was being called out a lot. Something was wrong with Natalie. What could it be?

  I decided to talk to Nancy at recess. She was standing around with Hannie.

  “Um, excuse me, Hannie,” I said. “Can I talk to Nancy for a minute?”

  “If it’s about Natalie,” said Nancy, “we can talk in front of Hannie. I told her the secret. But she is the only person I told.”

  I did not mind that Nancy told Hannie. After all, Hannie is a Musketeer. We do not want to keep secrets from each other.

  “What is wrong with Natalie?” I asked.

  “Well, she does wear glasses. Do you think she is going blind?” asked Hannie.

  “That is silly. Lots of people wear glasses. And they don’t go blind,” I said.

  “Natalie is clumsy. Maybe the nurse is trying to find out why,” said Nancy.

  “She wouldn’t be called out four times just for being clumsy,” I said.

  “I hope it’s not termittal!” cried Hannie.

  “You mean terminal,” said Nancy. “It could not be. That would be just too awful!”

  “We have to be super nice to Natalie now,” I said. “And remember. No one is supposed to know she is going for tests. We have to keep it a secret.”

  The Good Deed Doers

  “See you later, Mommy!” I called. It was a little-house Saturday. I was going over to Nancy’s. I had promised to help her do good deeds.

  “Hi, Karen!” said Nancy. “I have already cleaned my room and fluffed the pillows. I left a note for Daddy to fold the laundry. I think he is doing that now.”

  “Great,” I replied.

  Just then, Pokey raced out from under a chair. Pokey is Nancy’s kitten. He darted up to me and rubbed against my leg. “Oh, Pokey. You are so cute. And you love me so much, don’t you?”

  “Come on, Karen,” said Nancy. “We have to get to work.”

  “I’m ready,” I said. I ran my finger across the dining room table. I have seen Mommy do that at our house. “Tsk, tsk,” I said, just the way she does. “Very dusty. We better get busy.”

  We dusted the entire house. We emptied the wastebaskets.

  Mrs. Dawes came out of her study. She found us hard at work.

  “This is awfully nice of you, girls,” she said. “But wouldn’t you rather go out and ride your bicycles? The weather is beautiful.”

  “Not today, Mommy,” replied Nancy.

  Mrs. Dawes went back to work. And so did we. We tied together all the old newspapers we could find. By the time we finished, the inside of the Dawes’ house looked gigundoly clean.

  “What now?” I asked.

  “I heard Daddy say he was going to rake the leaves tomorrow morning,” said Nancy.

  “Let’s go! To the leaves!” I said.

  “To the leaves!” repeated Nancy.

  Raking leaves was a fun job. We made a big pile. Then we jumped in. Of course we had to rake them all over again. But by the end of the afternoon, the lawn was clean and green.

  “Nancy! Karen!” called Mrs. Dawes. “Would you like some cocoa and cookies?”

  “Sure!” we said.

  The cookies were peanut butter with raisins. They were Mrs. Dawes’s specialty.

  Mr. Dawes was taking a cocoa and cookie break, too.

  “Thank you for raking the leaves, girls,” he said. “You have been working very hard today. You usually do not work on Saturdays. Is there anything you want to talk to us about?”

  “No, Daddy. I cannot think of anything,” said Nancy.

  “The house looks just lovely,” said Mrs. Dawes. “But are you sure nothing is wrong? Did something happen at school?”

  “Not a thing,” I said.

  “If anything is bothering you, remember you can always come to us,” said Mr Dawes.

  “Thank you, Daddy,” said Nancy.

  “Thank you for the snack, Mrs. Dawes,” I said. “It was very delicious. But now we have to get back to work. Is there anything special you would like done?”

  Mr. and Mrs. Dawes just shook their heads.

  “Okay!” I said. “We’ll surprise you.”

  Nancy and I went down to the basement. We were sure we would find plenty of good deeds to do there.

  Speech Lessons

  On Monday morning Ms. Colman said, “We are going to begin a new science unit today. We will start by reading The Magic School Bus Lost in the Solar System.”

  “Yea!” I cried. So did the rest of the class. The Magic School Bus books are neat. They are about this really smart teacher named Ms. Frizzle. (She’s as smart as Ms. Colman.) She wears funny dresses. And she takes her class on amazing trips.

  “Will the Magic School Bus go to Mars?” I asked.

  “We’ll see,” said Ms. Colman. “As soon as everyone settles down, I will begin.”

  Ms. Colman read two sentences. Then Natalie was called to the nurse’s office.

  I could see that Natalie did not want to go. She did not stop to pull up her soc
ks. She did not hurry out of the room. She kind of shuffled through the door.

  I could not stand it anymore. I had to find out what was going on. I was going to find out as soon as I could.

  Natalie was gone a whole half hour again. When she came back, Ms. Colman told her she could borrow the Magic School Bus book overnight.

  “Thank you,” mumbled Natalie. But she did not smile.

  At lunchtime, Natalie sat by herself in a corner of the cafeteria.

  “Natalie, you have to tell me what is going on,” I said. “What kind of test was it? Is something wrong with you?”

  Natalie did not look up. She spoke so softly I could hardly hear her.

  “It’s my lisp,” she whispered. “The speech teacher wants to fix it. I have to go to speech class.”

  Speech class? A lisp? Was that all that was wrong? I was very relieved.

  “That isn’t so bad,” I said.

  “It is to me. No one else has to go to speech class,” said Natalie.

  “What do you do there?” I asked. I thought speech class sounded kind of interesting. I love to make speeches!

  “We practice saying ‘esses’ the right way,” replied Natalie. “We make up sentences that have lots of ‘S’ words. We say the ‘S’ words while we look in a mirror.”

  “So you say ‘Sally sells seashells at the seashore’? And you look in the mirror while you say it?” I asked. “That sounds like fun.”

  “It is not fun to be called out of class. It is not fun to have a lisp. And I do not want anyone else to know. So please keep it a secret. Okay?” begged Natalie.

  “Okay,” I agreed. “I will keep it a secret. I will not tell a soul.”

  “S” Words

  “I will not tell a soul. I will not tell a soul.” I repeated the promise over and over to myself until I reached the playground.

  Then I changed the promise — just a little. I will not tell a soul — except for Nancy and Hannie. I had to tell them. They were very worried about Natalie. They thought she was going to the hospital every time she left the room. They thought she was going to see a brain surgeon. They thought maybe she needed an operation.

  “Psst-psst!” I said. I wanted them to know I had an important secret to tell them. It was not going to be like saying the Telephone secret out loud. That was a mistake. No, this was different. Nancy and Hannie had to know the truth. It was the only way they would stop worrying. They were the only ones I was going to tell. No one else.

  “You guys, I have something to tell you,” I whispered. “I talked to Natalie. I found out about her tests.”

  “Tell us!” said Nancy. “Is she going to go to the hospital? Is she going to have an operation?”

  “No,” I replied. “Natalie is not going to have an operation. She has a lisp. She is going to speech class.”

  “Speech class! That is good news,” said Nancy. “Speech class is not serious at all.”

  “I never even noticed she has a lisp,” said Hannie. “But if she does, I am glad they are fixing it.”

  “Do you want to know what she does in speech class?” I said. I told Nancy and Hannie all about practicing “S” words in front of a mirror. “She says sentences like, ‘Sally sells seashells at the seashore.’ ”

  “Well, I am glad Natalie is not going to have an operation,” said Nancy. “Do you want to play hopscotch now?”

  “How about tetherball?” suggested Hannie.

  I wanted to practice “S” words. But Nancy and Hannie did not seem very interested.

  Some kids were already playing tetherball. But the hopscotch court was empty. I took out my special hopscotch stone. I always carry it with me to the playground.

  All of a sudden, Hannie said, “Excuse me. I’ll be right back!” She ran across the playground. She ran straight to Hank Reubens. I saw her whisper something in his ear.

  Hmm. She looked like she was telling him a big secret. I wondered what kind of secret it could be.

  I wondered what was going on.

  Natalie’s Operation

  “Hi, Natalie!” I said happily. It was Wednesday morning. I had been feeling happy ever since I found out that Natalie did not have to go to the hospital.

  “Hi,” mumbled Natalie. She did not sound happy. Wednesday was the day of her speech class. She would have to leave as soon as Ms. Colman had taken attendance.

  When she left, you know what happened? Jannie Gilbert burst into tears.

  “Jannie, what is wrong?” asked Ms. Colman.

  “It’s … it’s awful!” cried Jannie.

  “Tell us what is so awful. We will try to help you,” said Ms. Colman.

  “It’s … not … me. It’s … Natalie!” said Jannie.

  Poor Natalie? Poor Jannie! She was sobbing and gulping and hiccuping.

  “What about Natalie?” asked Ms. Colman. (Ms. Colman is very patient. That is one of the reasons I like her so much.)

  Jannie blew her nose. Then she said to Ms. Colman, “Someone told me Natalie is going to have an operation. Is she going to the hospital soon?” asked Jannie.

  “An operation?” said Bobby Gianelli. “I heard she was going to a special eye doctor. I heard she was going blind!”

  “She is not going blind,” said Hank. “She is going to speech class.”

  Wait a minute! How did Hank know Natalie was going to speech class? I had not told him.

  “Everyone calm down,” said Ms. Colman. “Natalie is not going to the hospital for an operation. And she is not going blind.”

  “Then why does she keep getting called out of the room?” asked Ricky. (I had not told Ricky the secret, either, even though he is my husband.)

  “Hank was right,” said Ms. Colman. “Natalie has been going to speech class. She has a slight lisp. The speech teacher is helping her correct it. That is all.”

  “Oh, boy! That’s a relief,” said Bobby. Sometimes even Bully Bobby can be nice.

  “I am glad I told you what was bothering me,” said Jannie. “I feel much better now.”

  The next thing we knew, the door opened. It was Natalie. Everyone stared at her. Her face turned as red as a cherry.

  “Hey, Natalie!” called Hank. “How was your speech class?”

  “We were all very worried about you,” said Jannie.

  “We thought you were going to the hospital,” said Ricky. “But Ms. Colman told us you go to speech class.”

  “Hey, I was the one who told everyone about the speech class,” said Hank.

  “But,” said Natalie, “how did you know about it, Hank? The only person I told was Karen Brewer. And she was not supposed to tell anyone else. She was supposed to keep the secret.”

  Uh-oh. Suddenly everyone was staring at me.

  “You Told!”

  I passed a note to Natalie. It was a one-word note. It said, “Sorry.” But Natalie would not read it.

  I faced forward all morning. But I could still feel everyone staring at me. I wanted to turn around so I could wave to Nancy and Hannie. But I did not want to get any meanie looks.

  “Sticks and stones will break my bones, but meanie looks will never hurt me.” I sang that song to myself three times.

  I tried to listen to Ms. Colman. But I could not. All I could think about was the trouble I was in. It was a long morning.

  Lunchtime was awful. When we got to the cafeteria, everyone started yelling at once.

  “You’ve done it again, Blarin’ Karen,” said Bobby. (I decided Bobby was not nice at all.)

  “We thought Natalie was really sick,” said Pamela. “It’s all your fault!”

  “Thanks to you, I spent half my allowance on a fancy get-well card,” said Jannie. “I was going to send it to Natalie in the hospital.”

  The next thing I knew, Natalie was standing right in front of me. We were glasses to glasses and toes to toes.

  “You told!” she cried.

  Even my husband, Ricky, was mad.

  “I am never going to tell you a secret of mine,�
�� he said. “Never, ever!”

  Only two people were not yelling at me. Nancy was one. Hannie was the other. The Three Musketeers were sticking together.

  But practically everyone else was fighting.

  “You told me Natalie was going into the hospital!” Jannie shouted at Pamela.

  “That is what Terri told me,” Pamela shouted back.

  “That is because Tammy said it to me!” shouted Terri.

  Then Bobby started yelling at Ricky. “You were the one who said she was going blind!” he yelled.

  I closed my eyes. I covered my ears. This was too, too awful!

  I wanted to run away and hide. I wanted to get on the Magic School Bus and go to Mars.

  “Good-bye, everyone,” I shouted.

  They were so busy yelling at each other, no one even heard me.

  Good Girl, Bad Girl

  School was over. Finally. I stood outside with Nancy. We were waiting for Mrs. Dawes to pick us up.

  “Do you want to come over to my house?” asked Nancy.

  Nancy’s house was not exactly Mars. But it was better than going home and thinking about all the trouble I was in.

  “Okay,” I replied. “Thanks.”

  “We will do some more good deeds for Mommy. That will make her happy,” said Nancy.

  As soon as we reached Nancy’s house, I called Mommy. She said I could stay there and play. Nancy and I ate a snack. Then we got to work.

  We started by polishing the silver. I wiped pink polish all over a round plate. Next, I took a rag and rubbed and rubbed and rubbed. When I finished, the plate was clean and shiny. It was like a mirror. I made funny faces. I made meanie faces. Polishing silver was fun.

  “Let’s clean the hall closet now,” suggested Nancy. “Mommy says it is a mess.”

  I love cleaning closets. You never know what you are going to find.

  We found three umbrellas, one with a yellow duck handle. Quack! Quack!

  We found lots of hats. Two rain hats. One straw hat with flowers. A brown wool hat that looked like a pancake. We tried on every one.