Karen's Good-Bye Read online

  “Girls, the movers are working down here now,” said Mrs. Delaney. “Why don’t you go upstairs and play?”

  We started to go upstairs. On the way, we passed the library. I peeked in. There used to be so many books. Now they were all gone. Suddenly I thought of something funny.

  “Remember when we took the books off the shelves and tried to put them back in alphabetical order?” I said.

  “Mommy and Daddy got so mad!” said Amanda. “They said the books were in a very special order and it would take them days to put them back.”

  “We were only trying to help,” I said, giggling.

  “And remember what we did to the basement when Mommy asked me to put soap in the washing machine?” said Amanda.

  “I remember,” I said. “You put some soap in. But I didn’t know you put it in, so I put in some more!”

  “And then when we were upstairs, Mommy called, ‘A-man-da!’ And we ran downstairs and — ”

  “There were soapsuds everywhere!” I said.

  On the second floor, things looked even weirder. The house was so empty that when I talked, I could hear an echo. I headed for the playroom.

  “Don’t bother,” said Amanda.

  I saw why. There was nothing to play with. The room was bare. It was not the playroom anymore. It was the nothing room.

  “Let’s just go to my room,” said Amanda.

  It was filled with boxes. There were no more pretty pillows. There were no pictures on the walls.

  “Where’s Priscilla?” I asked.

  “She’s under the bed. She will not come out,” said Amanda.

  I got down on the floor. “Here, kitty, kitty!” I said. I really wanted Priscilla to come out. We needed her company. But she would not budge.

  “I don’t blame you,” I whispered.

  Knock-knock. It was Mrs. Delaney. She had a tray of cookies and milk for us. Amanda and I did not talk much while we ate.

  “I still have paper and Magic Markers,” said Amanda when we finished eating. “We could draw pictures.”

  We tried to draw what Amanda’s house looked like last Tuesday afternoon. It was hard to remember.

  Then Mommy came to pick me up. I cried the whole way home. I could not believe that tomorrow, Amanda Delaney was moving.

  Moving Day

  This is it, I thought, as Mommy pulled up to the Delaneys’ house. It was Wednesday. Moving day.

  Lots of kids from the neighborhood were standing outside the house. They were watching the movers put things into trucks. (There were not a thousand trucks, like I had said there would be. There were just three.)

  At first, I did not see Amanda. Then she ran out of the house.

  “Karen! They are moving my bedroom furniture right this minute,” she moaned.

  The movers came out behind her. They were carrying cartons filled with Amanda’s things. Her Peter Rabbit lamp was sticking out of one of them.

  “I don’t want them to hurt Peter,” said Amanda.

  “Don’t worry. They won’t. And look, he is next to your teddy bear. They can talk all the way to the new house.”

  I was trying to cheer up Amanda. But it was not working. She looked very worried. Then she started crying.

  So I held hands with her. We stayed like that, without saying a word, until the movers finished putting her things in the truck. Then we heard a voice from the backyard.

  “Here, kitty, kitty! Here, kitty, kitty!” It was Mrs. Delaney. Amanda dried her eyes and we went around back to see what was going on.

  Priscilla was racing around the yard. Amanda’s mommy was running after her. She was trying to catch Priscilla to put her in her carrying case.

  Amanda’s mother went this way. “Here, kitty!” she called. Priscilla went that way.

  Amanda’s mother went that way. “Here, kitty!” she called. Priscilla went the other way.

  We were all laughing and trying to help Mrs. Delaney catch Priscilla when Mr. Delaney came clomping out the back door.

  “Me-ow!” Priscilla jumped into Amanda’s arms. I think Mr. Delaney scared her. You should have seen him!

  He usually wears a suit and tie, and carries a briefcase. (That is because he’s a lawyer.) Now he was wearing regular pants and a T-shirt. He was also wearing flippers, a diving mask, and an inflatable duck tube.

  “It seems they forgot to pack our pool things, dear,” said Mr. Delaney to Mrs. Delaney. “Anyone for a swim?” he added with a wink.

  One of the movers came around back.

  “We’re just about finished loading the trucks, Mr. and Mrs. Delaney,” he said. “Would you like to check the house before we pull out?”

  We carried Priscilla inside and put her in her carrying case. The movers were lugging out one last bookcase.

  It was too sad inside. The house was completely empty.

  Amanda carried Priscilla to the car. It was time for her to go.

  Good-bye, Amanda!

  The trucks started creeping down the driveway. Mr. and Mrs. Delaney were waiting in their car.

  “Please say good-bye to your friends now,” Mrs. Delaney called.

  “I’ll be there in a minute, Mommy,” said Amanda. Lots of kids from the neighborhood had come to say good-bye to Amanda and her little brother, Max.

  “Do you have your good-luck-moving charm?” I asked.

  Amanda pulled the four-leaf-clover key ring out of her pocket.

  “And I put the album you gave me in the car. I am going to look at the pictures while we drive to the new house,” said Amanda.

  “We’ll write to each other, right?” I asked.

  “I’ll write to you!” said Amanda.

  “And I will write to you, too,” I said.

  Then guess who came running over. It was Hannie! She looked like she wanted to make up.

  “Hi, everybody,” she said.

  “Hi,” I said.

  “Hi,” said Amanda.

  “I just wanted to say, Amanda, that I am sorry I didn’t come to your party. And I wanted to say good-bye and good luck and everything.”

  “Thanks,” said Amanda. “I wanted to say good-bye to you, too.”

  “Amanda! Max! In the car, please,” called Mr. Delaney.

  I could not think of anything else to say. Neither could Amanda. But I could see she did not want to go yet. And I did not want her to.

  So we just stood around. Then Mr. Delaney honked his car horn twice. Max was already in the backseat.

  “Well, I guess I better go now,” said Amanda.

  “I guess,” I said. Amanda and I gave each other a hug. (Hannie took a few little steps back. Saying good-bye to Amanda was one thing. Hugging her was another.)

  Amanda started walking backwards to the car.

  “So we’re really going to write, aren’t we? And will you call me sometimes, too?” said Amanda.

  “Yup. And you call me,” I said.

  She was still walking backwards.

  “Give Priscilla a pat for me,” I said.

  “I will,” said Amanda. “Good-bye!”

  “Good-bye, Amanda!” I called.

  I did not get to say “See you later, alligator.” Amanda turned, ran to the car, and climbed in before I had the chance.

  We waved to each other while the car pulled out of the driveway.

  We kept waving while it rolled down the street.

  I was still waving when the car turned the corner.

  Vampires?

  “The Delaney house looks really lonely now,” I said.

  Nancy and I were in the school yard waiting for Hannie to arrive. It was a Wednesday morning. Amanda had moved away a whole week earlier.

  “Of course it looks lonely,” said Nancy. “A house needs people in it.”

  “Well, I found out that a family is going to move in soon. But I don’t know when. And I do not know what kind of family it’s going to be yet,” I told Nancy.

  We saw Hannie getting out of her mommy’s car. She ran over to us.
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  “Hi!” she said. “What are you talking about?”

  (The Three Musketeers were together again. I was so, so happy.)

  “We are talking about the Delaney house,” I said. “Who do you think is going to move in?”

  “Very, very rich people,” said Hannie. “Maybe they will be famous, too.”

  “Maybe they will be TV stars. Or movie stars!” I said.

  “I hope not,” said Hannie. “Then they might be snobby, just like Aman — ”

  I gave Hannie my you-better-not-or-I’ll-be-really-mad look. I did not want to start fighting all over again.

  “I think Hannie was going to say, ‘They might be snobby like a man she once knew.’ Right, Hannie?” said Nancy.

  “Um, right,” said Hannie. “You know what I think? I think a family of vampires is packing their bags right now.”

  “They will have to bring their pet bats along with them,” I said. I started flapping my arms like they were bat wings.

  “Most of the time, they will act like a regular family,” said Nancy.

  “Except on Halloween,” said Hannie. “They will not even have to wear costumes!”

  “And when Mr. Tastee’s ice-cream truck comes, you know what flavor the vampire children will ask for?” I said.

  “What?” said Nancy and Hannie.

  “They will ask for vein-illa!” I said, laughing. (I read a joke like that in a book once.)

  Suddenly I stopped laughing. In a low and eerie voice, I said, “What if it’s witches? What if Morbidda Destiny’s relatives move in?” (Morbidda Destiny is the witch who lives next door to Daddy’s house. Daddy thinks she is just a nice lady. But I know better.)

  “Ooh, scary,” said Nancy.

  “Ooh, really scary!” said Hannie.

  “Ooh, really, really scary!” I said. And, you know what? I meant it.

  I was glad when the school bell rang.

  New Neighbors

  “Have you heard from Amanda?” asked Kristy.

  “Not yet,” I replied. “But I know I will soon.”

  It was Friday night at the big house. We were in the kitchen eating my favorite dinner: hamburgers, mashed potatoes, and peas and carrots. (I like to mush the peas and carrots into the mashed potatoes. It makes the potatoes look pretty.)

  Ring! Ring! Kristy jumped up to answer the phone.

  “It’s for you, Karen,” she called. “It’s Hannie.”

  I love when it’s for me! I picked up the phone. Hannie had big news. The new family was moving in the next day.

  “Whoever sees the moving truck first has to call the other,” I said. “We will visit the neighbors together.”

  Hannie said okay. Then we hung up. I was gigundo excited. (I was a little scared, too. What if Morbidda Destiny’s relatives really did move in? That was one reason I wanted to visit the new neighbors with Hannie.)

  When I got back to the table, I told everyone the news.

  “Did Hannie say what kind of family it’s going to be?” asked Charlie.

  “I hope it’s a family of cute girls!” said Sam.

  That made me feel really good. Sam wanted more girls like me! I sat up tall in my chair.

  Sam noticed. “I did not mean little girls,” he said. “I meant grown-up high-school girls.”

  Boo. I should have known.

  “Maybe there will be some guys our age,” said Charlie. “I would like that, too.”

  “I hope there will be a boy who is almost eight, like me. And I hope he is good at softball,” said David Michael.

  “Speaking on behalf of The Baby-sitters Club,” said Kristy, “I hope the family will have lots of babies and little children. That way we will have a new baby-sitting job.”

  “A girl! A girl! A girl! I want there to be a girl!” I sang.

  After dinner, I helped Nannie put Emily to bed. (On New Year’s I made a special promise to do one nice thing a day. Most of the time I forget. But sometimes, like tonight, I remember.)

  “Who do you hope the new neighbors will be?” I asked Nannie.

  “Oh, I don’t know,” said Nannie. “I will be happy if they are young or old or boys or girls.”

  Or space creatures! I thought. But I did not say it.

  That night when I went to sleep, I dreamed a cat family moved into the Delaney house. The cats were the size of people. One was a seven-year-old girl. Her name was Muffy.

  “Come on. I’ll show you around Stoneybrook Academy,” I said to Muffy in my dream. “That will be your new school.”

  We started walking into school, but we were blinded by a really bright light. We had to shut our eyes tight.

  I made myself open my eyes. I sat up. Bright sun was shining in my window. It was morning!

  “Wake up, Moosie and Tickly,” I said. “Today is the day I meet our new neighbors!”

  Waiting and Waiting

  Waiting, waiting, waiting. It was the longest Saturday morning in history.

  First of all, I felt like I was still dreaming. Everywhere I looked I saw cats. There was one on Emily Michelle’s bib. There were cats on the cartoons David Michael was watching on TV. And of course, there was our real cat, Boo-Boo. He was curled up next to Shannon.

  What if a family of cats really did move in? And what if they were mean, like Boo-Boo? No, that is not possible, I thought.

  But it was possible that a horrible family of real people could move in. And it was definitely possible for Morbidda Destiny’s relatives to come. Witches like to stick together.

  I was glad when Elizabeth called, “Come have some breakfast, Karen.”

  I could hardly eat anything, though. I was too excited.

  I tried watching cartoons with David Michael. But I do not like cartoons very much. (I like to watch Mister Ed, the show about the talking horse. But it was not on.)

  I looked out the window. No moving trucks yet.

  “Want to play a game?” asked Andrew. “We could play checkers.”

  “All right,” I said. Maybe that would help me get my mind off the new neighbors.

  We played for an hour. Every time it was Andrew’s turn, I jumped up and went to the window. That meant I jumped up about thirteen times. There were still no trucks.

  I played with Emily for another whole hour. I made sure we were sitting near a window, so I would not have to keep jumping up.

  We made believe we were having a little tea party.

  “Here’s a cup and here’s a cup

  And here’s a pot of tea.

  Pour a cup and pour a cup

  And have some tea with me.”

  We started to play Pat-a-Cake next. That’s when I saw it! A moving truck was pulling into the driveway.

  I ran as fast as I could to call Hannie. She promised to come over right away.

  The Spies

  Hannie was on our front doorstep in a flash.

  “I’m going outside to play, Daddy!” I called. (I did not tell Daddy what we were going to do. He would not be too happy if he knew.)

  “We have to see everything!” I said to Hannie. “We have to see all the people and their furniture. As much as we can.”

  We hid behind a bush in the front yard. If Daddy found out what I was doing, he would be cross. There is a rule at the big house: No spying on neighbors. But we had to see what was going on. We just had to. Besides, the neighbors were not here yet. Only the movers. And Daddy never said anything about spying on movers.

  “Look, Karen! They’re opening one of the trucks,” whispered Hannie.

  Guess what they took out first. A crib. Boo. That meant there was a baby. Maybe it was a family of babies. Triplets. Or quintuplets. At least Kristy would be happy.

  They took out a couch. Bookcases. Chairs. No clues there.

  “Oh, no! Do yoooou see what I see?” I asked Hannie.

  Hannie only nodded. She was too scared to talk. That is because the movers were taking out a big, long broom. It looked like Morbidda Destiny’s relatives were moving in after a
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  When one truck was empty, the movers opened the next. Television. Lamps. Lawn mower. Bicycle. Yikes! It was a boy’s bicycle.

  Babies. Witches. Boys.

  “Hannie, we’re in trouble,” I said.

  Then I saw a car turning into the driveway.

  “They’re he-ere!” I whispered loudly.

  The car pulled up, then stopped. First a man and a woman got out. The woman opened the back door. She leaned in the car and started fumbling around. When she came out, she was holding a baby.

  Next a boy climbed out. He looked like he was about ten.

  Then I saw a foot. It was in sneakers. Then a leg. It was wearing jeans. Boy or girl?

  “A girl! There’s a girl!” cried Hannie.

  She looked like she was seven, just like us.

  We waited a little longer to make sure no one else came out of the car. What a relief. No witches, or vampires, or cats, or lion tamers. Just a regular family, and they even had a girl.

  “Maybe we should go over and say hi,” I suggested.

  “Maybe,” said Hannie.

  But neither of us got up. We watched a little longer. Then I realized we were spying on neighbors, not movers. And I do not like to disobey rules too much.

  “Let’s go,” I said.

  I climbed out from behind the bush. I brushed off a few leaves.

  “How do I look?” (I wanted to make a good first impression.)

  “You look good,” said Hannie. “How do I look?”

  “Good,” I said.

  We crossed the street. I walked straight up to the new girl.

  “Hi, I’m Karen,” I said.

  Melody

  “My name is Melody,” said the new girl.

  “That’s a pretty name,” I told her.

  “Thanks. Karen and Hannie are nice names, too,” said Melody.

  I liked Melody already. And I could tell Hannie did, too. What a relief! I was afraid that I would like Melody, and Hannie would not. Or that Hannie would like her and I would not. Or that neither of us would like her. But the three of us were going to get along just fine. I could tell.