Karen's Copycat Read online

  Merry smiled. “And will you both behave in class?” she asked.

  “Oh, yes,” I said. “I promise. Scout’s honor.” (I am not a scout, but if I were, I would have a lot of honor.)

  “I promise too,” said Andrew.

  “Hmmm…” Merry said.

  What more could I do? I had asked pretty please. I had pointed out all of our qualifications. I had promised scout’s honor.

  So Merry should have said yes by now. What was the problem?

  Finally Merry said, “Okay. I guess it will be okay — as long as Karen and Andrew promise to be on their best behavior.”

  Merry really stressed that last part, about the best behavior. It was almost as if she doubted whether we would behave. And we had already behaved perfectly for days.

  “I promise!” said Andrew. He was jumping up and down. “We are going to take Merry’s class, Karen!”

  I did not jump up and down.

  Merry had said, “I guess it will be okay.” She had not said, “It will be fabulous if you take my class.” Or “There is no one I would want more to take my class.”

  Instead she had hinted that we might cause trouble. That the other students would not like us. That we would hold others up.

  And I had already promised to behave. I did not like having to promise again. But if I was going to take Merry’s class, I knew I would have to.

  “I promise to be on my best behavior,” I said quietly.

  “Great,” said Mommy. “That settles it. Karen and Andrew will take the class. Thank you, Merry, for making an exception. It really gets me out of a tight spot.”

  I had gotten what I wanted. I should have been happy. But I was not. My feelings were hurt.

  Maybe Mommy had been right when she said that we would have to get used to Merry.

  The Three Musketeers

  “It will be so much fun!” I said. I was telling Hannie and Nancy about Merry’s pottery class. I had decided that what really mattered was that Merry had let Andrew and me into her class. I was sure that as soon as class started, Merry would see that she had made a good decision. In fact, she would like us even more, because we would be the best-behaved kids in the class.

  “We are going to learn to use glazes, and how pots are fired, and — ” I went on.

  “That sounds so neat,” said Hannie. “Maybe I could take the class too. I took pottery at summer camp. I am sure Mommy would let me if I asked.”

  “Me too,” said Nancy. “I will ask my mommy. It would be great if the Three Musketeers could take the class together.”

  “The class is really for older kids,” I explained. “Merry is making an exception for Andrew and me.” I said “exception” in an important-sounding voice. I did not say that Merry was letting us in because Mommy could not find us another sitter.

  “Oh,” said Hannie, looking disappointed.

  “Oh,” said Nancy. “You do not think Merry could make an exception for us too?”

  My friends seemed sad. I did not want to let them down. After all, if Merry thought I could handle the class, maybe she would think my friends could handle it also. I would ask her.

  “Maybe I can do something,” I said. “I bet it will be no problem to get you in the class.”

  “Great!” said Hannie.

  “Super!” said Nancy.

  * * *

  “Absolutely not,” said Merry.

  “But — but — but, Merry,” I stammered. “I sort of promised Hannie and Nancy that they could take your class too.”

  “I am sorry, Karen,” said Merry. “It is out of the question. The class is for eight-to eleven-year-olds. You and Andrew are a special case. I am afraid I cannot allow any more younger children to attend.”

  “But — but — ” I sputtered.

  Merry waited for me to finish. I could not think of anything else to say. I thought about trying to look very, very sad. But I had a feeling that that would not work with Merry. (Actually, it does not work with Mommy, Seth, Daddy, or Elizabeth either.)

  At last Merry said, “I wish I could help you out, Karen, but I just cannot. You will have to tell Hannie and Nancy that they cannot take the pottery class.”

  She did not seem angry with me. But she did not look like she was about to change her mind either.

  Boo and bullfrogs!

  I could not understand why Merry could not make an exception for my friends too. If Merry really liked me, she would do it.

  Maybe Merry did not like me so much after all. And she would not like me any better now.

  * * *

  I called Nancy first.

  “Nancy,” I said, “I have some good news and some bad news. Which do you want first?”

  “The bad news,” she said.

  “Okay.” I braced myself. “The bad news is that you and Hannie cannot take the pottery class.”

  “Oh, no!” Nancy cried. “Why not?”

  “Merry said you are too young.”

  “But you are taking it,” Nancy argued. “Even Andrew is taking it. He is only four.”

  “Four going on five,” I pointed out.

  “Whatever,” said Nancy. I could tell she was angry. “What is the good news?”

  “Actually, there is no good news,” I said. “I only said that to make you feel better.”

  “Well, it did not work.” Nancy hung up.

  The call to Hannie was just the same. Except I left out the part about the good news. I felt bad that my best friends felt bad.

  But I felt even worse about something else. I was still not sure whether Merry liked me. She seemed to. She was always nice to me. And I liked her a lot, even though she had not let Hannie and Nancy into her class.

  But I still did not understand why Merry had not let the two Musketeers take the pottery class. If she really liked me, she would have.

  The Perfect Potter

  Hannie and Nancy were mad at me for a couple of days, even though I apologized to them. By Thursday, the day of my first pottery lesson, we were all friends again.

  After school Merry drove Andrew and me to the community center. We arrived half an hour before the class was supposed to begin. Merry needed the time to set up the classroom.

  “May I help?” I asked her. I was still on my best behavior.

  “Thank you, Karen,” said Merry. “You may help me arrange the chairs around the tables. Each table gets four chairs.”

  I smiled at Merry and headed for the wall where the classroom chairs were lined up. Andrew followed me. I grabbed a chair and started to drag it toward a table.

  I had already vowed to be on my best behavior for Merry. But maybe that had not been enough. I decided to go one step further. I would also be the best pottery student Merry had ever had. I would be the perfect potter. Merry would have to like me then, since pottery is one of her favorite things.

  I pushed the chair under a table. I turned to get another and ran straight into Andrew, who was right behind me.

  “Oops!” I said. “Why are you following me, Andrew?”

  “I am not following you.” He pushed his chair under a table, then raced back to the wall. “I want to help too,” he said. He grabbed a chair and started dragging.

  “Fine,” I replied. “Just do not get in my way.”

  I was a little tired of Andrew. He had been following me everywhere lately. It seemed like I could not take three steps without tripping over him.

  Pretty soon the other students began to arrive. They sat at the tables.

  I scanned the classroom. Two girls were sitting at one of the tables. They were both older than me. They looked nice. I decided to sit with them.

  Andrew followed me to the table and sat next to me.

  “Welcome, students,” said Merry when everyone was seated. “My name is Merry Perkins. I am your pottery instructor.”

  Merry asked the students to stand and introduce themselves. We did. (I said my name especially loudly. I like introducing myself.)

  Then Merry wal
ked around the room and put a large cube of clay in front of each student.

  “Today I would like for us to get to know the clay,” said Merry. She picked up a cube like the ones she had given us. “Knead your clay. Work it between your fingers. Notice how soft it is, how heavy.”

  I picked up my clay and mashed it in my fingers. It was cool and heavy and wet. It was a little gritty. It felt good.

  While we got to know our clay, Merry explained how the class would work. We would practice making several things. But most of them would not be fired. (“Fired” means baked in a hot oven called a kiln.)

  Our beginner projects would not be thrown away, though. Unfired clay — even if it is all dried out — was never thrown away. We would put it into a recycling tub. That is a big container full of clay and water. As long as a project had not been fired, it could go in the recycling tub. There it would melt down into the water, become regular gooey clay again, and be reused.

  By the third or fourth class, Merry explained, we would work on projects that would get fired. After firing, the projects would be glazed and refired. A glaze is like paint that hardens in the kiln.

  Merry was an excellent explainer. Everything was very clear. I felt confident that I could keep up with the class.

  When class ended, I helped Merry clean up and put the chairs back against the wall. Andrew helped too.

  Our first pottery class had been great. I had learned a lot. It had been easy too! I was sure I could be the perfect pottery student.

  Karen’s Big Mouth

  “How was your pottery class?” asked Hannie at lunch the next day.

  Hannie, Nancy, and I were in the cafeteria at school. We were eating hamburgers and french fries.

  “It was great!” I said. I dipped a french fry into some ketchup and popped it in my mouth.

  “Merry is a wonderful teacher,” I said. I spotted Ms. Colman across the cafeteria. I waved. She waved back. “Merry is the second-best teacher I have ever had.”

  “The class was gigundoly interesting,” I continued. “We got to work with clay. Merry explained how firing works, and all about glazes. And you should have seen the recycling tub!”

  “Yes,” Nancy interrupted me. “We should have.” She gave me a pointed look.

  Uh-oh. I had a feeling that two of the Musketeers were becoming angry at the third Musketeer again.

  “I just asked about your class to be polite,” Hannie said. “I did not want to hear so much about it. You do not have to rub our noses in it.”

  I felt terrible.

  “Oh, Hannie, Nancy, I am sorry!” I said. “I did not mean to rub your noses in it. It is just that I am excited about the class. And I really wish you could take it too. Merry should have let you in. But I promise I will not mention it again. Okay?”

  Nancy and Hannie exchanged glances.

  “Okay,” they said.

  I could tell they were still upset. I had to say something to make them feel better.

  “I just want to say one more thing about pottery class.” I held up my index finger, to show I really meant one more thing.

  Hannie and Nancy glanced at each other again. Neither one said anything. I was pretty sure that meant I could go on.

  “I was great in the first class,” I said. “So far, I have been the perfect pottery student. Merry told me so.” (Merry had not actually said that. But she had probably thought it.) “If I keep doing well, I bet Merry will change her mind and let you both in.”

  “You think so?” Nancy asked.

  “Really?” Hannie asked.

  “I really think so,” I said.

  “Wow!” “That would be great!” “I cannot wait!” said Hannie and Nancy. They started planning how they would catch up to the rest of the class, once they were allowed in. They were excited about Merry’s class all over again.

  Uh-oh. What had I done? Would Merry really let them in the class? She had been pretty definite that she would not. I really had no reason to believe that she would change her mind, no matter how good a student I was.

  I had just wanted to make Nancy and Hannie feel better. I had opened my big mouth, and the wrong thing had come out.

  I shoved a handful of french fries into my mouth to keep myself from saying anything else. I did not want to cause any more trouble.

  Now I was really going to have to be the perfect pottery student. Not only did I have to make Merry love me, I had to make her love me so much that she would let my friends into her class.

  The two Musketeers were going to be more upset than ever if they found out they would not be able to take the class.

  Turtle, Horse, Eagle

  On Tuesday we had our second pottery class. Even though seats were not assigned, everyone sat in the same places they had sat in the first time. So I sat with the same two older girls, and Andrew sat next to me. He had still been copying everything I did, every day, while Merry was at our house. I was getting a little fed up with him.

  “Today, class, we are going to do some modeling with the clay,” Merry said. She was kneading a lump of clay as she spoke. “I would like each of you to create an animal out of your clay. The animal can be your pet. Or it can be a zoo animal, like an elephant or a seal. It can be a fish, or a bird, or a dinosaur. It can even be an imaginary animal, like a unicorn.”

  As she spoke, Merry formed the clay with her hands. She made a large ball and flattened it with her hand on the table. Then she attached a small round ball for the head. Smaller, thinner tubes became legs. Merry did not even seem to be watching what she was doing.

  “Let your imagination do the work,” Merry said. “Capture the life of your animal in the clay.”

  I was watching Merry’s hands closely. Like magic they flattened the four legs into flippers. She pinched the smaller ball and made it pointy, with a little snout. She bent the body at the edges to make a rounded back.

  All of a sudden I realized what Merry was making. It was a sea turtle! With a toothpick, Merry etched eyes and a mouth on the head. She drew shell lines on its back.

  Merry held up the sea turtle for us to see.

  The sea turtle looked almost alive. I could imagine its flippers waving back and forth, gracefully pulling it through the sea. It was beautiful.

  Merry plus clay equaled magic.

  Soon it was our turn to make something out of clay. I could not decide what animal I should make. I liked cats a lot. Also dogs. And rats. And goldfish. And guinea pigs. And ponies. I even liked hermit crabs. I could hardly name an animal that I did not like. (Okay, I was not crazy about slugs.)

  The two girls at my table, Isabel Linden and Kathy Mullhouse, were talking about what to make.

  “I am going to make a horse,” said Isabel.

  “Good idea,” said Kathy. “I will make an eagle.”

  Those were good ideas. I especially liked the horse. But a horse’s skinny legs might be hard to get right.

  Then I remembered that I was trying to be the perfect student. Good students look up to their teachers and try to be like them. I was sure Merry would be pleased if I made a sea turtle just like hers.

  I started shaping my clay the way Merry had. I formed the beginnings of a round body, four short flippers, a head, and a stumpy tail.

  After a few minutes, Andrew leaned over and whispered, “Psst! Karen! What are you making?”

  “A sea turtle,” I whispered back.

  “Oh,” he said.

  I looked at Andrew’s clay. It was a big lump with pointy ears and holes for eyes.

  “What are making?” I asked. “A really fat cat or dog?”

  “No,” he said, mushing his clay back into a ball. “I am making a sea turtle too.”

  He had not been making a sea turtle until I told him I was making one. He was copying again!

  Andrew started rolling a clay ball. I went back to my sea turtle. I sort of hunched over it with my elbow so Andrew could not copy what I was doing.

  Pretty soon Merry came around to our t
able to check on our work.

  I held up my sea turtle proudly and said, “See? Just like yours.” It was not quite as lifelike as Merry’s. But it was close.

  Merry smiled. “Why, that is very nice, Karen.” Then her face became thoughtful. “But you know, you did not have to make a sea turtle. Mine was just an example. It was not an assignment.”

  “Oh, I know,” I said. “But your sea turtle was so nice, I wanted to make one just like it!”

  “And Andrew,” Merry said, turning to him. “What a clever hippopotamus you made.”

  Andrew looked up at her, surprised. “Thank you,” he said.

  Hey, wait a minute! I thought. That is a sea turtle, not a hippo! It was so unfair. Andrew had copied me, which was bad enough. But Merry did not even realize it! I narrowed my eyes at Andrew.

  But before I could say anything, Merry moved on. She admired Kathy’s eagle. Then she held up Isabel’s horse.

  “This is very good work, Isabel,” Merry said. “I like the way you made the legs so thick. They give your horse real power, and also help it stand up. Well done!”

  “Thank you,” Isabel said as Merry handed the horse back to her.

  Merry had liked Isabel’s horse the best. Maybe I had made a mistake in deciding to make a sea turtle.

  Maybe I should have made a horse like Isabel’s instead.

  Andrew Two-Two-Too

  The next class was on Thursday. I was more determined than ever to show Merry that I was her best student.

  “Today, class, we are going to practice imprinting patterns into clay,” said Merry. “But first I will show you how to make a quick and easy bowl.”

  Merry held up an aluminum pie plate. She took a fist-sized ball of clay and started pressing it into the plate. Soon the inside of the pie plate was lined with clay, like a clay pie crust.

  “When the clay dries, it will be in the shape of a shallow bowl,” said Merry. “Now I will show you how to put designs into the clay.”

  On the worktable in front of her Merry had laid out lots of different things — some forks, some bolts and washers and screws, and some marbles. There were bottles, bottle caps, and pencils. There were also some funny-looking metal doodads whose names I did not know.