Karen's Kittycat Club Read online

  * * *

  On Thursday morning I found Hannie on the playground. We did not have to go into the school building yet. Hannie was sitting on a swing. I sat down next to her.

  “Hi,” said Hannie. “We didn’t get any calls. No one needs a cat-sitter.”

  “Darn and boo,” I replied. “And how did you know I was going to ask you about that?”

  “Because you have asked me about it every single morning since we started the club.”

  “Oh.”

  There was an empty swing next to me. Nancy Dawes sat on it. I was in the middle, between my two best friends.

  “How’s the Kittycat Club?” asked Nancy.

  “Great!” I answered. “We have so much fun. We’ll get a job any day now. I’m sure someone will need a cat-sitter soon.”

  * * *

  On Friday I got to school before Hannie did. I found a big red rubber ball. When Hannie’s bus arrived, Hannie ran to me. I kicked the ball to her.

  She kicked it back.

  “Good morning,” I said. “Does anyone need a cat-sitter?”

  “Nope.”

  I sighed.

  * * *

  On Saturday I could not see Hannie. There was no school and I was at the little house. So I telephoned her.

  “Hi, it’s me,” I said.

  “No one needs a cat-sitter.”

  “I’ll call Amanda. I’ll give her the bad news,” I said.

  “Thank you,” replied Hannie. “See you on Monday.”

  “See you.”

  We hung up.

  Fighting

  Ding-dong.

  “I’ll get it! I’ll get it!” I cried. I just love answering our bell.

  I ran to the front door of the little house. I peeked out the window. Nancy was standing on our stoop. I opened the door.

  “Hi, Nancy!” I said.

  “Hi,” Nancy sounded sort of sad.

  She came inside, and we went upstairs to my bedroom. I sat on the floor.

  “Karen?” began Nancy. She picked up Goosie. She played with his paws. “I have to ask you something. Please can I be in the Kittycat Club? Puh-lease?”

  I felt bad. I could see how badly Nancy wanted to be in the club. And I wanted to let her join. But I couldn’t.

  “Nancy, I’m really sorry. I want to — ”

  Nancy interrupted me. “I know, I know,” she said. “Then let’s start a club of our own. Okay, Karen? We’ll start a new Kittycat Club. You and I will be the only people in it. I’ll let you be the president. Is that a deal?”

  I sighed. I did want to be the president. But I had already started one Kittycat Club.

  “I can’t do that,” I said to Nancy. “I told you before. If you want to be in a Kittycat Club, you have to have a cat. And you don’t have one.”

  “Could I borrow Goosie?” Nancy asked.

  “You have to have a real cat. Like Boo-Boo or Pat or Priscilla. I’m sorry. That’s the club rule.”

  “Karen, that’s not fair!” cried Nancy.

  Now she sounded mad. She threw Goosie onto the bed.

  I ran to him. “Poor Goosie,” I said.

  Nancy was not listening. “Your club is stupid anyway!” she shouted. “Stupid Kittycat Club! It’s not even working. You haven’t gotten one single job.”

  “Then why do you want to be in the club?” I asked Nancy. “And anyway, we will get jobs. We just have not gotten any yet. “ I paused, thinking. “And our club is not stupid. you are stupid. You are gigundo stupid! ”

  “Am not!”

  “Are too!”

  “Am not. And good-bye. I’m leaving. We are not best friends anymore.”

  “Forever?” I asked. I could feel tears in my eyes.

  “No, just until Monday,” replied Nancy. “Good-bye.”

  “GOOD-BYE!”

  The Kittycat Club’s First Job!

  On Monday, I asked Hannie if anyone needed a cat-sitter. She said no. I asked Nancy if she wanted to split a piece of gum. She said maybe. (Later she said yes.)

  On Tuesday, I asked Hannie if anyone needed a cat-sitter. She said no. I asked Nancy if she wanted to come over after school. She said she would think about it. (After she thought about it, she said yes.)

  On Wednesday, I asked Hannie if anyone needed a cat-sitter.

  “Yup!” she replied. She was sitting at her desk, grinning.

  “What?”

  “I said ‘yup’ Last night, a lady called. Her name is Mrs. Werner. She’s going away on vacation, and she needs someone to feed Kibble. Kibble is her cat.”

  “And she called us?” For some reason, I could hardly believe it.

  “Yes. She saved our flier,” said Hannie.

  “Well,” I said. “Well … well now what?”

  “I told her someone would come over this afternoon to talk to her about the job.”

  “Which one of us?” I asked. “And where does she live?”

  “She lives on my street. I mean, our street. Sort of near the end. And you will have to go to her house. Amanda has a piano lesson today. I have a Brownie meeting.”

  I did not know what to think. “Oh, this is so exciting!” I cried. I grabbed Hannie by the arm. I jumped up and down. Then I sat at my desk.

  “What’s going on?” asked Nancy. She had just gotten to school. She was hanging her jacket in her cubby.

  “Oh, Nancy! Nancy! We got our very first cat-sitting job! The Kittycat Club is working at last!” I cried.

  “Great,” said Nancy in a small voice.

  “But Hannie, how am I going to get to Mrs. Werner’s house today?” I asked. “And how will I feed her cat when I live way over at the little house?”

  Hannie shrugged. “Why don’t you see what the job is like first?”

  “Okay,” I replied. But I was worried. I did not know if Mommy would drive me over to Mrs. Werner’s.

  * * *

  Mommy did drive me. I told her it was really, really, really, really important.

  “I can’t drive you there every time you have to feed Kibble, though,” said Mommy.

  “That’s okay,” I replied. “Maybe Hannie and Amanda will help me.”

  When we reached Mrs. Werner’s house, Mommy said, “Do you want me to go in with you? I know Mrs. Werner and she’s very nice. So you may go alone. But if you want company, then Andrew and I will come with you.”

  “I better go by myself,” I said.

  A grown-up cat-sitter should not bring her mother with her.

  I walked to Mrs. Werner’s front door. I rang her bell. Soon the door opened.

  “Hello?” said an old woman.

  “Are you Mrs. Werner?” I asked.

  “Yes, I am.”

  “Hi, I’m Karen Brewer. I’m your cat-sitter. I’ll feed Kibble for you.”

  Mrs. Werner’s eyes grew very wide. “You’re the — ” she started to say. Then she opened the door wider. “Come in, please.”

  I stepped inside. I followed Mrs. Werner into her living room.

  “Please sit down,” she said.

  I sat in a big armchair. My feet did not touch the floor.

  Mrs. Werner found our Kittycat Club flier. “I guess my eyes aren’t what they used to be,” she told me. She squinted at the flier. “Doesn’t this say Katie Bower and Hannah Papaddy and Amelia Delaine, ages sixteen, seventeen, and eighteen?”

  “Um, no,” I replied. I was getting a funny feeling in my stomach. “It — it says Karen Brewer, Hannie Papadakis, and Amanda Delaney, ages six, seven, and eight.”

  “Oh! Oh, my goodness.” Mrs. Werner put on a pair of glasses. She stared at the flier. “Why, it certainly does. I’m so sorry, Karen. Silly me.”

  I wanted to cry. “Do, um, you still want me to feed Kibble?” I asked.

  Mrs. Werner looked embarrassed. “Well, the truth is, honey, I was hoping to find someone a little older than you.”

  I nodded. “Okay. Well, if I hear about someone, I’ll tell them to call you,” I said. That was the g
rown-up thing to do.

  “Thank you, Karen,” replied Mrs. Werner.

  “You’re welcome.”

  I left Mrs. Werner’s house. I climbed into Mommy’s car.

  “What happened?” she asked me.

  When I told her, I started to cry.

  Later, Hannie called me. “What happened?” she asked.

  When I told her, I started to cry again. “We’ll talk about it at our meeting on Saturday,” I said. “We need a meeting. It will be very important.”

  Back to the Big House

  I just love Fridays! On Fridays (well, on every other Friday), Andrew and I go back to the big house. Then we get to see Daddy, Elizabeth, Charlie, Sam, Kristy, David Michael, Shannon, and Boo-Boo for two whole days.

  Late Friday afternoon, Mommy drove up to the big house. Andrew and I scrambled out of the car.

  “ ’Bye!” called Mommy. “Have fun, kids!”

  “ ’Bye!” we replied. “We will!”

  I was feeling very happy. I wasn’t worried about old Mrs. Werner anymore. It wasn’t my fault she needed new glasses. So Mrs. Werner didn’t want me to feed stupid Kibble. So what? That didn’t mean I couldn’t be a good cat-sitter. Didn’t I feed Boo-Boo and Rocky all the time?

  Andrew and I ran inside. We were carrying our knapsacks. They bumped against our knees.

  I threw open the front door.

  “Hello! Hello, we’re here!” I shouted.

  Andrew didn’t say anything. He set his knapsack carefully on the floor.

  Suddenly, people came running. Kristy and Charlie dashed in from the kitchen. Elizabeth, Daddy, and Sam hurried out of the living room. And David Michael slid down the bannister from the second floor landing.

  There were hugs all around.

  David Michael said, “I caught a huge spider. It’s in a jar in my room.”

  Andrew replied, “Is it hairy? Can I see it?” He picked up his knapsack. He followed David Michael to his room.

  “I have to inspect,” I announced.

  Each time I arrive at the big house, I have to make sure everything is there. I have to see that everything is in order.

  I already knew all the people were there, so that was a start. I went to my room. I unpacked my knapsack. There was Moosie. There was my other Tickly. There were my table and chairs. There were The Witch Next Door, my favorite book, and Charlotte’s Web, the long book Kristy and I were reading.

  I continued checking. At last I got to the kitchen. There were Daddy and Elizabeth. They were fixing dinner.

  “May I help you?” I asked politely.

  “You could mix these chopped vegetables together,” said Daddy. He handed me a big bowl, and a plate of carrots and green peppers and cucumbers and celery. “These are for our salad.”

  “Okay,” I replied. I began mixing. I tried not to spill anything. While I mixed, I thought about Mrs. Werner. I thought about the Kittycat Club. I thought about how we had gotten no jobs. Maybe … maybe no one had saved our fliers. Maybe they had thrown them away.

  “Elizabeth?” I said. “You kept the Kittycat Club flier, didn’t you?”

  Elizabeth turned away from the stove to look at me. “Of course, sweetie. It’s right there on the bulletin board. See? It’s lovely.”

  I was glad Elizabeth thought it was lovely, but that was not the point. “Would you call the Kittycat Club if you needed a cat-sitter?” I asked.

  I saw Elizabeth and Daddy look at each other. Adults always think children do not notice this. They’re wrong.

  “Well,” Elizabeth replied after a moment, “I just can’t think of how many times we would need only a cat-sitter. What about Shannon? If we went away, we would need someone to take care of Shannon, too. We’d need a pet-sitter.”

  That made sense but, well, there must be plenty of people like Mrs. Werner with just a cat or two. I would talk about it with Hannie and Amanda at our meeting the next day.

  Go Home!

  “We’re here!” announced Hannie.

  She and Amanda were standing in the doorway to my bedroom. Hannie was holding Pat, Amanda was holding Priscilla.

  Boo-Boo was on my bed. When he saw Pat and Priscilla, he began to growl.

  “Come in and close the door,” I told my friends. “Hurry.”

  The girls rushed inside. They let their cats loose. The first thing Hannie said was, “I want to be the president.”

  Amanda didn’t even look at her. “You can’t be,” she replied. “I’m the president.”

  “Let’s talk about this later,” I said. “We have two problems. One is that some people think we’re too young to be cat-sitters. The other is that some people don’t have only cats. They have dogs, too. They need pet-sitters, not just cat-sitters.”

  “I want to be the president,” said Hannie again.

  “Did you hear what I was telling you?” I asked.

  Hannie sighed. Amanda sighed. I sighed. One of the cats sighed.

  “I want to go home,” said Amanda. “Nothing ever happens here.”

  “Let’s just wait till the end of the meeting,” I told her. “Maybe the phone will ring. Maybe we’ll get a cat-sitting job.”

  “Ha,” said Amanda. But we waited any-way.

  The phone did ring once. It was a woman who wanted to sell light bulbs and fertilizer to Daddy.

  “Darn,” I said.

  The meeting of the Kittycat Club was almost over when two things happened. First, Hannie said for the third time, “I want to be the president.”

  Amanda replied, “Shut up.” (Andrew and I are not supposed to say that.)

  Second, Boo-Boo saw Priscilla roll over on the floor, and he decided to play. He jumped off the bed. He pounced on Priscilla. He swiped a hunk of fur out of her gorgeous fluffy tail.

  “Aughh!” cried Amanda. “Oh, no! Karen, you get that dirty old cat of yours away from my beautiful one. Now!”

  I narrowed my eyes. “I have a better idea,” I said. “You take Priscilla out of here. Go home! You go, too, Hannie. I’m tired of hearing you say you want to be the president. Who cares about that? The phone isn’t ringing anyway. So good-bye!”

  My friends stuck their tongues out at me. Then they picked up their cats and went home.

  I looked at Boo-Boo. “You go away, too,” I said.

  Boo-Boo tore out of the room.

  Help!

  I stood up. I sat down again. I was very angry.

  I picked up Moosie. I put him down again. Then I picked up one of my sneakers. But I didn’t put it down. I threw it across the room instead.

  “Karen?” called Kristy. She was down the hall in her bedroom. “What’s going on in there?”

  “Nothing,” I replied.

  But a few moments later, Kristy was standing in my doorway. I was glad to see her. (I think maybe I threw the shoe on purpose. I needed Kristy.)

  “May I come in?” she wanted to know. I nodded.

  My sister sat beside me on the bed. “Problems?” she asked. “I saw Hannie and Amanda leave. They looked sort of mad.”

  “They were mad,” I agreed. “And I am mad. Very mad. Our club is not working. It just isn’t. No one is calling to offer us cat-sitting jobs. Except Mrs. Werner, and she thought I was sixteen. She also thought my name was Katie Bower.”

  Kristy smiled.

  “And Hannie and Amanda are fighting over who gets to be the president,” I added. “Amanda is the president, but Hannie says she wants a turn. I would like a turn, too, but I don’t want any more arguments.

  “Plus the cats always fight,” I went on. “Boo-Boo swiped some fur out of Priscilla’s tail today…. Oh, Kristy, you have to help me. What did I do wrong?”

  Kristy looked at me thoughtfully. “Karen,” she said at last, “there are several kinds of clubs. One kind is just for having fun, like playing tennis or checkers. Another kind does nice things for other people, like going to nursing homes and singing songs for the patients. And some clubs are really businesses. The Baby-sitters Club i
s like that. If you run a business, you have to know what you’re doing. It isn’t easy.”

  I looked down at Moosie. I sat him in my lap.

  “I guess I made some mistakes with the Kittycat Club,” I said.

  “A few, maybe,” agreed Kristy. “But everyone makes mistakes.”

  I sighed. “What were mine?”

  “Do you really want to know?”

  “I really do.”

  “Okay. Well, first of all, to run a good business, you have to provide a service — you know, say you’ll do something that people need. Like baby-sit.”

  “Or cat-sit?”

  “We-ell,” said Kristy slowly. “You need to do something a lot of people need. Not too many people need just cat-sitters.”

  I nodded. I remembered what Elizabeth had said. “But a lot of people need baby-sitters?” I asked Kristy.

  “Plenty,” she replied. “The other thing is that people should really want to hire the workers who are in the business. You and Hannie and Amanda are terrific. But Mrs. Werner thought you were too young. I think other people might feel that way, too.”

  “Kristy, did you know these things all along?” I asked.

  Kristy looked embarrassed. “Yes,” she replied.

  “Well, why didn’t you tell me before we started the club?”

  “Because I wanted to let you find out for yourself. I thought it would mean more to you. Anyway, what would you have done if I’d said, ‘Karen, you’re too young to start the Kittycat Club’?”

  “I would have started it anyway.”

  “I know,” said Kristy.

  I grinned at her. “I better go,” I said. “I have to make some phone calls.”

  No More Kittycat Club

  I called Hannie and Amanda. I asked them to come back to my house. I asked them to leave Pat and Priscilla at home.

  That was another thing, I thought, as I waited for my friends. Amanda asked why we brought our cats to the meetings. Why did we? We ran a cat-sitting service. Who cared if our cats came to the meetings? And why did I say Nancy could not be in the club? Why did she have to have a cat to be in it? Was this a cat club or a sitting business? I guess I had not decided.