Karen's Big Job Page 3

Audrey’s father came in wearing a big white chef’s hat and an apron. He handed out some menus from his restaurant. I could not read most of the menu. Then I figured out why. A lot of it was written in French. The special was something called canard à l’orange. Mr. Green told us that was duck with orange sauce.

  “People really eat ducks?” asked Ian.

  Mr. Green nodded. “Yes, and snails, rabbits, calves’ legs, frogs’ legs, and sheep’s intestines.”

  I gulped. Natalie Springer turned pale. Ricky looked like he might be sick. Luckily Mr. Green did not bring in samples of those foods. Instead he gave us some tiny cakes that tasted like raspberry and chocolate. He said they were called petit fours. He also said they were his specialty. My class loved them. “It is the dessert I am well known for,” he explained.

  “Do all chefs have a specialty?” asked Addie.

  “Yes,” answered Mr. Green. “A lot of chefs invent special dishes and name them after themselves.”

  “Cool,” said Bobby. “I want to invent my own ice-cream sundae and call it the Gianelli Special.”

  Mr. Green laughed.

  * * *

  “Weren’t those presentations fun?” asked Hannie. Hannie, Nancy, and I were walking to the lunchroom. (None of us was too hungry, though. Not after all those petit fours.)

  “Gigundoly fun,” I replied.

  “Too bad your parents cannot come in this week,” said Hannie.

  “Um, yeah,” I answered. (I felt bad not telling Hannie and Nancy the truth. But I felt so embarrassed about lying to Ms. Colman that I did not want my best friends to know what I had done.)

  Trouble

  It was the last day of Career Week. Addie’s mother was telling us about being an animal doctor. “In one day, you might check a dog for mites, X-ray a cat, and perform surgery on a rabbit,” she said.

  “What are mites?” I asked.

  “Like fleas, only smaller,” answered Dr. Sidney.

  Yuck. I do not like fleas. But I did think it would be cool to meet all kinds of rabbits, cats, and dogs and help them feel better. Maybe I could be an animal doctor. (After my career onstage, that is.)

  “How do you know an animal is sick when it can’t talk to you?” asked Hannie.

  “Good question,” answered Dr. Sidney. “You have to pay attention to what its owner tells you. And you have to examine your patient carefully — look into its eyes, take its temperature, listen to its heart and lungs.”

  I wanted to ask Dr. Sidney a million more questions. For instance, is it bad for Boo-Boo to be so fat? But Ms. Colman said Hannie’s question had to be the last one. School was over for the day. That meant Career Week was over too. (Whew.)

  * * *

  “Karen,” said Elizabeth at dinner that night. “I ran into Natalie Springer’s father at lunchtime. He asked me if I was going to talk to your class for Career Week.”

  I gulped. Then I took a long drink of water. (My stomach was feeling a little funny.)

  “When is Career Week?” asked Elizabeth.

  “Um, um … I think it is, uh, next week sometime.”

  Just then the phone rang. (Whew.) Daddy got up to answer it. I tried to finish eating. We were having fried chicken and mashed potatoes. That is one of my favorite meals.

  When Daddy came back to the table, he looked angry. Very angry. “Karen, that was Ms. Colman,” he said. “She was calling to ask Nannie to help out with a bake sale. She was surprised to find me at home. She thought Elizabeth and I were out of town.”

  “Oh,” I said, sighing. I stared at my plate. My food did not look so good anymore. Everyone else in my big-house family had stopped eating and talking. They were all looking at me. The room was very still.

  “Karen,” Daddy continued. (He says my name a lot when he is mad.) “Career Week was this past week. Ms. Colman told me everything.”

  Uh-oh. I knew I was in big trouble.

  A Long Talk

  After dinner, Daddy and Elizabeth took me to my room. They wanted to talk.

  “Karen,” Daddy began after we had sat down on my bed. “Why did you lie to Ms. Colman — and to us — about Career Week?”

  “Um, um,” I said. I picked up Moosie and looked at him. He stared back at me with his glass eyes. He did not know what to say either.

  “Karen, I am waiting for an answer,” said Daddy. He was still very mad.

  “Um, well, you see,” I finally said, “I, uh, did not want Elizabeth and you to come talk to my class because …” I sighed, and leaned back against my lacy white pillows. I felt like crying.

  “Because why?” asked Elizabeth softly. She did not look as mad as Daddy.

  “Because, um, you both have sort of unexciting jobs. I mean, unexciting compared to the other parents in my class. You see, Addie’s mother is an animal doctor, and Audrey’s father is a chef. He brought in all this great food for us to eat.”

  Daddy and Elizabeth did not look impressed. Instead they seemed hurt.

  “Karen, let me understand this. You did not want your father or me to come to your class because you thought we would be too boring,” said Elizabeth.

  “Um, yeah.”

  Elizabeth sighed. Daddy shook his head.

  “Even if that were true, it would not be a good reason to lie to Ms. Colman and to us,” said Daddy. “You had a responsibility to your class and teacher. And you let them down.”

  I nodded. Then I started crying. I could not help it. “I did feel bad about lying,” I said.

  “Besides,” Daddy continued, “how do you think Elizabeth and I feel? How would you feel if we decided your school was boring? So boring we would not even listen when you told us about it?”

  I gulped. I had not thought about it that way. “I am sorry I hurt your feelings,” I said. I felt terrible. “And I’m sorry I lied.”

  Daddy and Elizabeth looked at each other. “I accept your apology, Karen,” said Elizabeth.

  Daddy nodded. “But what you did was very serious, Karen. We have to punish you.” (I had known that was coming.)

  “How?” I asked.

  “Next week you will come straight home after school every day and do your chores and homework,” answered Daddy. “You will not be allowed to play with your friends, and they cannot come visit you. Is that understood?”

  I nodded. (My punishment was bad, but not as bad as I had thought it would be.)

  “And,” Daddy continued, “you will apologize to Ms. Colman in person on Monday morning.”

  I promised Daddy that I would.

  Heads or Tails

  On Monday I went to school early. I was hoping Ms. Colman would be there early, too. But she was not. Instead I sat in the back of the room and talked to Hannie and Nancy. I told them all about lying to Ms. Colman and about my punishment.

  “Wow,” said Hannie. “I did not know your parents were in town. Why didn’t you tell us?” (We had been playing at Hannie’s house all week. Hannie and Nancy never knew if Daddy or Elizabeth was home or not.)

  I looked down at the floor. “I guess I was embarrassed about lying to Ms. Colman,” I said. “I did not want to lie to you, too.” I pushed my glasses up on my nose.

  Hannie and Nancy looked at me. They seemed to understand. Best friends usually understand each other. Sometimes I feel that they can read my mind, and I can read theirs.

  “Ooh, there is Ms. Colman,” said Nancy.

  I knew what she was thinking. I waved good-bye to my friends and hurried to my teacher’s desk. “Ms. Colman,” I blurted out before she had time to sit down. “I have something to tell you.”

  Ms. Colman looked up. “Yes, Karen?”

  “I am sorry I lied about my parents being out of town for Career Week.”

  “I am sorry you did, too, Karen. That was not like you.”

  “I am being punished for it.” I told Ms. Colman about my punishment.

  “Karen, I accept your apology,” said Ms. Colman. “But you must now choose one of your parents to come talk to our cl
ass about his or her career.”

  “I do?” I said. (This was news.)

  “Yes,” Ms. Colman said firmly. “All the other students did. I expect your decision by tomorrow.”

  Darn.

  That afternoon I hurried home. I started studying for my spelling test. But mostly I thought and thought about Daddy and Elizabeth. And about their jobs. If Elizabeth came to my class, she could tell about talking on the phone and going to long, boring meetings. If Daddy came to my class, he could talk about sending faxes. I groaned. I still did not want either one. And now I was worrying about something else. Would Daddy feel bad if I chose Elizabeth instead of him? Or the other way around?

  “What should I do?” I asked Shannon. He scampered into my room, wagging his tail. “Should I pick Daddy or Elizabeth?”

  Shannon kept wagging his tail. I finally decided (without Shannon’s help) that I would rather have Elizabeth. Her job was a little more exciting than Daddy’s. And she could bring in pictures of some cool ads. But I did not want to hurt Daddy’s feelings. So I thought of a great way to ask them.

  After dinner I asked Daddy and Elizabeth to flip a coin. “Whoever gets heads first comes to my class,” I said.

  Daddy flipped the coin first. “Tails,” he announced.

  Elizabeth flicked the coin high in the air with her thumb. “Heads,” she yelled when it came down.

  Whew, I said to myself.

  Marvin and Sassy Sally

  “Who wants to be in my play?” asked David Michael.

  “I do, I do,” I said. “What parts are there?”

  “Well, Marvin the sunflower,” said David Michael. “And the gardener who takes care of Marvin. And a hen and a rabbit.”

  “I want to be Marvin,” I said.

  “You cannot play Marvin. That is my part,” said David Michael. “I have already learned most of my lines.”

  Boo and bullfrogs. I wanted to be the star of the show. “Well,” I said, “I will need to read your play before I can decide what part I want.”

  “Okay.” David Michael handed me a loose-leaf notebook. His handwriting was very hard to read.

  We were all sitting in Kristy’s room again. And guess what we were talking about? Elizabeth’s party. Kristy reminded me that we needed to go shopping.

  Yikes. The party was only one week away, and I still had not thought of a good present for Elizabeth. Everyone else’s presents were ready. David Michael had finished writing his play. Andrew was putting the final touches on his picture of the garden. He was drawing red roses, blue lilacs, and some yellow things he said were daffodils. (They did not look like roses, lilacs, and daffodils to me. But I was sure Elizabeth would like his picture anyway.)

  “Sam said he would help me frame it,” said Andrew proudly as he made more yellow smudges on the paper.

  Sam and Charlie had just about finished their footstool. Sam said it looked beautiful. “All we have to do is stain it,” said Charlie.

  Kristy showed everyone her cat pillow. She had sewn on buttons for the nose and eyes. She had made a tail. And she had put a lot of stuffing in the pillow so it looked very comfortable.

  “That is a fat cat like Boo-Boo,” said Andrew. We all laughed.

  “Where is your present, Karen?” asked Kristy.

  “Um, I do not have one yet,” I said. (I was feeling more and more nervous. I hoped I would think of something soon.)

  While the others worked on Elizabeth’s giant card, I tried to read David Michael’s play. Marvin the sunflower was the tallest flower in the garden. He was the only flower who could see over the garden wall. One night he overheard the gardener talking to himself. The gardener said, “I would like to wring my hen’s neck.”

  “Ugh!” I tapped David Michael on the shoulder. “Does the gardener really wring the hen’s neck? That is so gross. And mean.”

  “Keep reading, Karen.”

  Marvin liked the hen. Her name was Sassy Sally.

  “Sassy Sally!” I cried. “That is so funny.”

  My brothers looked up. “Karen,” said Charlie. “Try to control yourself.” But he was laughing, too.

  “What does sassy mean?” Andrew wanted to know.

  “It means the hen talks back to people,” explained Sam. “She does not care what other people think of her.”

  I kept reading. My brothers and Kristy worked on the card. The room grew very quiet.

  “So what happens at the end of the play?” asked Sam after I had been reading quietly for awhile.

  “Marvin tells his friend the rabbit to warn Sassy Sally,” I said, giggling. “The rabbit does. And that night the hen struts away from the garden. The rabbit hops after her, and they take Marvin with them.”

  “And everywhere they go, everyone is really impressed with Marvin because he can talk,” said David Michael.

  (I decided this would not be a good time to tell David Michael that sunflowers die if they are cut. Also, flowers cannot talk.)

  “That is a good story,” said Andrew. “Can I be the rabbit?”

  “Sure,” said David Michael.

  “Please, please let me play Sassy Sally,” I pleaded.

  “All right, Karen,” said David Michael. “That is a good part for you.”

  Sam said he would be the gardener. We started rehearsing that night. But I could not concentrate. I was too worried about Elizabeth’s present. I was the only one without a gift. And I was worried about Elizabeth boring my class the next day. (Sigh.) I had a lot of problems.

  Wacky Cracky Bubble Gum

  I woke up feeling a little sick to my stomach. Then I remembered why. Elizabeth was going to talk to my class. In a few hours my whole class would know that all Elizabeth does at work is talk on the phone and go to boring meetings. She could say that in ten seconds. And she would not have a fun demonstration or anything. Not like the other parents.

  I pulled the covers over my face.

  “Karen!” Nannie called. “You will be late for school.”

  I dragged myself out of bed and dressed slowly. I was so late that Nannie gave me a muffin to eat on the way to school.

  As I was walking to my bus, Elizabeth stopped me. “Oh, Karen,” she said, “I will be coming to your class for the entire afternoon.”

  “Really?” I did not have time to ask Elizabeth why she was going to stay for so long. My bus was pulling up to the curb. I ran to catch it.

  I worried all morning about Elizabeth’s demonstration. What could she have to say that would take an entire afternoon?

  I came in from recess and found Elizabeth in our classroom, talking to Ms. Colman.

  “Class,” Ms. Colman began after we had sat down, “please welcome Elizabeth Thomas Brewer. She is going to speak to us about her career in advertising.”

  The kids in my class clapped. I forced myself to join in.

  “Good afternoon. I am very glad to be here,” said Elizabeth. Then she explained that her job is to figure out how to advertise new products. I sat up in my chair. Elizabeth made her job sound very interesting. My stomach started feeling normal again. “My company’s newest client is Wacky Cracky Bubble Gum — bubble gum that crackles.”

  “Cool!” shouted Bobby.

  I felt my eyes grow rounder. Elizabeth talked about the gum and how it is wrapped in bright colors — lime green and hot pink — to appeal to kids. (I had the feeling I should have paid more attention in Elizabeth’s meeting. Those little packages I thought were soap may have been bubble gum.)

  “My job is to produce a television commercial for this gum,” said Elizabeth. “And” — Elizabeth paused and looked at us — “all of you, including Ms. Colman, are going to be in the commercial, this very afternoon.”

  “We are?” asked Pamela. She looked thrilled. So did the other kids.

  Just then the door to our classroom opened. In walked four people. One pushed a big camera, which sat on a wide platform with wheels. Another carried cables and a huge microphone. Two others pushed some lights. �
�This is the film crew,” announced Elizabeth. My mouth dropped open.

  “To make a commercial, you need a camera to film the scene, lights to spotlight the actors, and a microphone to pick up the sound,” explained Elizabeth. “The scene we will shoot will be of all of you — and Ms. Colman — enjoying Wacky Cracky Bubble Gum. The director will explain everything you need to do. So please listen to her.” Elizabeth nodded in the direction of a woman who was helping to set up the lights. Then Elizabeth passed around samples of the gum.

  I could not believe this. Me — and my class — on TV. This was way too cool.

  Lights, Camera, Action!

  The camera crew was very busy. Two people set up the lights. Another man attached the microphone to the end of a long metal pole. “That microphone is called a boom,” explained Elizabeth. “It will pick up the crackling noises the gum makes. Now, do not forget to blow bubbles during the filming.”

  “No problem,” said Bobby. He was having a contest with Pamela to see who could blow the biggest bubbles. Then Omar and Jannie tried to make the loudest crackling sounds.

  I watched the film crew and chewed the gum. It tasted like bananas and strawberries. Ricky said it reminded him of a banana smoothie. The kind you can get at King Kone’s he added. (King Kone’s is a big ice-cream store in Stoneybrook.) That is a real compliment, because Ricky loves everything at King Kone’s.

  Soon the woman called the director started rearranging our desks and chairs. She put them in neat rows. She also made Ian, Natalie, and Ricky comb their hair. And she asked Natalie to straighten her sweater and pull up her knee socks. “Don’t you want to look neat for the camera?” she teased (Natalie hardly ever looks neat.) The director made me button the collar of my shirt. And she asked some other kids to tuck in their shirts and blouses. “You have to look your best,” she told us.

  Then the director peered through the camera. Some of the kids in my class froze. But not me. I love being on film. I smiled and fluttered my eyelashes. I wished I had my sunglasses. Then I would really have looked like a star.