Karen's School Mystery

  Contents

  Title Page

  1 January

  2 Nancy’s Wish

  3 The Red Brigade

  4 Missing

  5 The Winners

  6 Karen’s Badge

  7 On the Job

  8 Great-Grandma’s Ring

  9 The Accident

  10 Spies

  11 Nancy’s Haircut

  12 Caught

  13 The 2AT

  14 Watch Out!

  15 Nancy’s Mistake

  16 The Sneaky Plan

  17 Trouble

  18 More Trouble

  19 Heroes

  20 The Ceremony

  About the Author

  Also Available

  Copyright

  January

  “Hi, Hannie! Hi, Hannie!” I called. It was January, and I was happy to be back at school after our vacation.

  “Hi, Karen!” Hannie called back. “Hi, Nancy!” Hannie Papadakis ran to meet my friend Nancy Dawes and me.

  I am Karen Brewer. Hannie and Nancy and I are best friends. We call ourselves the Three Musketeers. We like their motto, which is One for all and all for one.

  My friends and I ran to the front door of our school. When we reached it, we had to stop running. That was because of the Red Brigade. The Red Brigade are the patrols at Stoneybrook Academy. They are students, they get to wear cool badges and belts, and they are posted everywhere inside and outside of school. The inside ones always tell kids not to run in the halls.

  I think the patrols’ badges are gigundoly cool.

  “Guess what,” said Hannie as we walked slowly by a hallway patrol. (We did not want to be reported to the principal.) “It is almost time to elect new patrols.”

  Hannie was right. The kids at our school only get to be patrols for a month. Then we choose new ones. This is because lots of kids want to be patrols. More of them get turns this way.

  “Maybe I’ll run for the Red Brigade this time,” I said. Anyone in second grade or higher can be a patrol. I had not thought much about it before. But now I decided I would like one of those badges. Also, I would like to be in charge.

  “I will nominate you, Karen,” said Nancy grandly.

  “Thank you,” I replied.

  Nancy and Hannie and I are in second grade here at Stoneybrook Academy. We are seven years old. Our teacher is Ms. Colman, and we love her. (I even got to be a co-flower girl in her wedding.)

  Hannie and Nancy and I walked into our classroom. Ms. Colman wasn’t there yet, but some other kids were. And the door was open between our room and Mr. Berger’s room next door. I knew Mr. Berger was keeping an eye on us.

  My friends and I put our things in our cubbies. Then we sat on some desks in the back of the room. Hannie and Nancy get to sit back there all the time, but not me. My desk is in the front row. That is because I wear glasses. Ms. Colman makes all the glasses-wearers sit near the blackboard. I guess Ms. Colman has a right to make up that rule. She is a glasses-wearer herself. (Plus, she is the teacher.) So I sit between Ricky Torres and Natalie Springer.

  Nancy and Hannie and I watched our classmates trickle in. We saw Pamela Harding, Jannie Gilbert, and Leslie Morris. They are another set of best friends. And sometimes they are the Three Musketeers’ best enemies. We saw Addie Sidney roll into the room in her wheelchair. We saw Ricky Torres. Ricky is my pretend husband. We got married on the playground one day. We saw the twins, Tammy and Terri Barkan. We saw Audrey Green and Chris Lamar and Vicky Anders. We saw Bobby Gianelli. Bobby lives on my street. I used to think he was a bully, but now we are sort of friends.

  Bobby hung up his coat and went to his desk. He stuck his hand inside it. He felt around. Then he leaned over and peered inside. “Hey!” he cried. “My candy bar is gone! It disappeared.”

  Now this was interesting. Everyone crowded around Bobby’s desk. We asked questions. We looked for the candy bar. We even dumped out the stuff in his desk. But the candy bar really was gone.

  When Ms. Colman arrived, she looked at the mess on the floor. And she looked at all of us. We were talking a mile a minute.

  “What a way to start the new year,” she said. But she did not sound cross with us for making a mess. Ms. Colman is the best teacher ever.

  Nancy’s Wish

  We never did find Bobby’s candy bar. (He had probably taken it home with him before vacation, and forgot.) Instead, we had a regular old January day at school. We read stories. We worked in our workbooks. We ate lunch in the cafeteria. We had to have recess in our classroom, though. Ms. Colman said the weather was too cold for playing on the playground.

  When school was over, Nancy and I rode home on the bus. (Hannie rides the bus, too, but she takes a different route.) While we were bouncing along, Nancy said to me, “You know what, Karen? I wish I could be more grown-up.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  “I mean … I mean …” Nancy paused. “I mean I wish I looked more grown-up. I wish my hair were shorter. And I wish my clothes were not so babyish. Also, I wish Mommy and Daddy would treat me like I was older. After all, I am seven going on eight.”

  “You want to get your hair cut?” I said.

  Nancy nodded. “Yup. And I want to get rid of these old baby-baby pink sneakers and this skirt with the suspenders.”

  “If you do get your hair cut,” I said, “remember not to go to Gloriana’s House of Hair.”

  “Oh, don’t worry,” replied Nancy. “I would never do that.”

  Nancy and I were thinking about the time I got a haircut at Gloriana’s. It was a disaster. I looked like a squirrel. Now my hair has grown back. It is very long again.

  Our bus bounced along. Finally it reached our stop. Nancy ran to her house, and I ran to mine. (We live next door to each other.)

  “Hi, everybody! I am home!” I yelled.

  “Indoor voice, Karen!” called Mommy.

  This is one thing you should know about me: Sometimes, my voice gets a little loud. Grown-ups are always reminding me to use my quiet indoor voice.

  Here are some other things you should know about me: I talk a lot, too. I have blonde hair, blue eyes, and some freckles. I wear glasses. (I have two pairs. The blue pair is for reading. The pink pair is for the rest of the time.) I live in Stoneybrook, Connecticut. I have two families. They are my little-house family and my big-house family. (I will tell you more about my two families later.)

  The house I was in now was the little house. That meant I was at Mommy’s. I found Mommy and my little brother Andrew reading a story in the living room. Even though Andrew is only four going on five, he can already read. (Guess who taught him. I did.) So he was reading to Mommy. He was reading to her about the pokey little puppy while Mommy cleaned up her desk.

  When I entered the living room, Andrew stopped reading. “Hi,” he said. “What did you do in school today?”

  Lately Andrew always wants to know what I did in school. That is because he wishes he could go to Stoneybrook Academy instead of preschool. I can understand that (even though he does have a gigundoly nice preschool teacher named Miss Jewel).

  “Well,” I said, “we worked on math problems — subtraction mostly — and we read stories called tall tales. We had recess inside and we played board games. And in art class we are making mobiles. Um, Bobby Gianelli lost a candy bar. Oh, and I made an important decision.”

  “About what?”

  “I will announce it at dinner,” I replied.

  The Red Brigade

  All afternoon, Andrew pestered me. He wanted to know what my big decision was. I made him wait until dinner.

  At dinner I said, “Okay, everybody, I will now announce my decision.”

  “Yes?” said Mommy and Seth. (Seth is m
y stepfather.)

  “Goody,” said Andrew.

  “I have decided,” I began, “to be a patrol. I am going to run for the Red Brigade. I will get to wear a badge.”

  “Cool,” said Andrew. (Andrew has a police officer’s badge and a sheriff’s badge. They are very special to him.)

  My little-house family seemed proud of my decision. So I thought that after supper I should call my big-house family and tell them the news, too. And now, maybe I better tell you about my two families.

  This is the first thing you should know: I did not always have two families. A long time ago, when I was just a little kid, I had only one family. Mommy, Daddy, Andrew, and me. We lived together in a big house, the house Daddy grew up in. (It is right here in Stoneybrook, not too far from the little house.) We used to be a happy family, but then Mommy and Daddy began to fight. They fought a lot. Finally they decided to get a divorce. They decided they could not live together anymore. After the divorce, Mommy moved to the little house, and Daddy stayed in the big house. And sometime after that, they got married again. But not to each other. Mommy married Seth, and Daddy married Elizabeth. And that is how Andrew and I wound up with two families. We go back and forth between them — a month at the big house, a month at the little house. And at the beginning of each year, we switch the months so that, for instance, we are not always at the big house in November for Thanksgiving, or always at the little house in December for Christmas.

  Here is who lives at the little house: Mommy, Seth, Andrew, me, Rocky, Midgie, Emily Junior, and Bob. Rocky and Midgie are Seth’s cat and dog. Emily Junior is my pet rat. Bob is Andrew’s hermit crab.

  Here is who lives at the big house: Daddy, Elizabeth, Charlie, Sam, David Michael, Kristy, Emily Michelle, Nannie, Andrew, me, Boo-Boo, Shannon, Goldfishie and Crystal Light, and Emily Junior and Bob. (Emily Junior and Bob go back and forth with Andrew and me). In case you are wondering, Charlie, Sam, David Michael, and Kristy are my stepbrothers and stepsister. (They are Elizabeth’s kids. She was married once before she married Daddy.) Emily Michelle is my special adopted sister. Daddy and Elizabeth adopted her from the faraway country of Vietnam. Nannie is Elizabeth’s mother. She helps take care of the kids and the house. Boo-Boo is Daddy’s fat old cat, Shannon is David Michael’s puppy, and Goldfishie and Crystal Light are goldfish (duh).

  Do you know what? I made up special nicknames for my brother and me. I call us Andrew Two-Two and Karen Two-Two. (I thought up those names after Ms. Colman read a book to our class. It was called Jacob Two-Two Meets the Hooded Fang.) We are two-twos because we have two of so many things. We have two houses and two families, two mommies and two daddies, two cats and two dogs. I have two bicycles, one at each house. (Andrew has two trikes.) I have two stuffed cats that look just the same. Moosie stays at the big house. Goosie stays at the little house. And Andrew and I have clothes and books and toys at each house. (This is so we will not have to pack much when we go back and forth.) Plus I have my two best friends. (Nancy lives next to the little house, and Hannie lives across from the big house.) And of course I have those two pairs of glasses. I like being a two-two (most of the time).

  As a two-two, I get to do a lot of things twice. So after dinner, I called my big-house family to tell them about the Red Brigade.

  Here is what Kristy said: “Go for it, Karen!”

  Missing

  Ms. Colman makes lots of announcements in our classroom. Sometimes she makes Surprising Announcements. Those are my favorites. The day after I called Kristy, Ms. Colman made an announcement to our class. But it was just a regular one. It was not surprising. This was because it was about the Red Brigade. My classmates and I already know everything about being elected a patrol. We have heard the announcement once a month since school started.

  “As you know,” Ms. Colman began, “the election of new patrols will be held tomorrow. So think about who you would like to nominate.”

  “Goody,” said a voice from behind me. I think it was Bobby Gianelli. This was very silly because Bobby had already been a patrol.

  Maybe I better tell you a little more about the Red Brigade. See, once a month, two students from every class are chosen to be new patrols. (Well, not in every class. The kindergarteners and the first-graders are too little. But in every class from second grade up.) The patrols are in charge of a lot of things in the morning before school starts, and in the afternoon until the buses leave. They make sure kids don’t run in the halls. They help the littlest kids to their buses. And if they see any problems — such as fighting, or big kids picking on little kids, or breaking any rules — they can report kids to Mrs. Noonan. (She is in charge of the Red Brigade.) They can even report kids to Mrs. Titus, our principal, if there is an emergency. Each patrol is assigned a post — a hallway or a doorway or a bus or something — and he or she is in charge of that post for a month. At the end of the month, new patrols are chosen. Guess what. When the Red Brigade changes, a very important badge ceremony is held. Mrs. Noonan, the new patrols, the old patrols, and the parents of the old patrols are invited to the auditorium. Then Mrs. Titus thanks the old patrols for doing such a good job and for being such good citizens. And then (and this is gigundoly special) the old patrols take off their badges and belts and put them on the new patrols. The parents are very proud.

  Ms. Colman finished reminding us about the elections. “As you know,” she was saying, “we will elect just two patrols tomorrow. You may nominate yourself, or whomever you want — but you may not nominate someone who has already been a patrol. And remember, if you are nominated tomorrow and you do not win, you will have another chance next month. Any questions?”

  No one had a question, since we have heard the speech so often. But on the playground we talked about the elections. The Three Musketeers huddled next to the school (it was still pretty cold outside) with Addie, Natalie, Bobby, and Ricky. We talked about who wanted to run for the Red Brigade, and who had already been a patrol.

  Suddenly I remembered something. “Hey, Bobby,” I said. “Did you ever find your candy bar?”

  “Nope,” he replied.

  He hadn’t found it? I was sure it was at his house.

  “You know what?” said Addie. “Liddie Yuan left a quarter in her desk and now it is missing.” (Liddie is in Mr. Berger’s class.)

  “A bunch of things have disappeared from kids’ desks since yesterday,” spoke up Hannie. “Linny said so.” (Linny is Hannie’s big brother. He is in fourth grade at Stoneybrook Academy.)

  Hmm. I did not like the sound of that.

  The Winners

  I felt a little nervous the next day. I had a hard time waiting for Ms. Colman to say, “Okay, girls and boys. Time for elections.” I knew Nancy was going to nominate me. But I still felt butterflies in my stomach. Nominating me did not mean I would win.

  At last Ms. Colman told us to put away our science books. She faced our class. It was election time.

  Ms. Colman picked up a piece of chalk. “Who would like to nominate someone to join the Red Brigade?” she asked. Nancy must have shot her hand up right away, because Ms. Colman said, “Yes, Nancy?”

  “I nominate Karen Brewer,” Nancy said importantly.

  “Karen Brewer,” Ms. Colman repeated. She wrote my name on the board. Then she looked around the room. “Anyone else?”

  Audrey Green raised her hand. “I nominate Vicky Anders,” she said.

  Ms. Colman added Vicky’s name to the list. “Anyone else?”

  Addie raised her hand. “I nominate myself.”

  Ms. Colman nodded. As she was writing Addie’s name, I heard whispering behind me. I guess Ms. Colman heard it, too. When she turned around again, she said, “Does somebody have something to share with the rest of us?”

  Leslie Morris squirmed in her seat. “Well, I was just wondering,” she began. “I mean, Addie is in a wheelchair.” She paused. “I mean …”

  I glanced at Addie. She sits in her wheelchair at the end of a row of desks. She does
not need a desk of her own because she writes on the lapboard that is attached to the side of her chair. It is like her own portable desk. And she carries everything she needs in a tote bag on the back of her chair.

  Addie has cerebral palsy. She cannot walk because her legs do not work the way mine do. But her arms do. And her head does. And her brain does. Addie can do most things I can do (and a few I can’t). And she can scoot around pretty fast in her chair.

  I glared at Leslie. I had a feeling I knew what she was thinking. So did Addie. “I can be a patrol,” said Addie quietly.

  “But you cannot walk. Or run,” said Leslie.

  “I can move,” Addie pointed out.

  Natalie raised her hand. “Ms. Colman, what if Addie saw a kid running in the hall? What would she do?”

  Addie answered for herself. “I would do what any patrol would do,” she said. “I would yell, ‘No running!’ If I had to, I would report the kid.”

  That was the end of the discussion. After that, Tammy Barkan nominated her sister Terri. And then Ms. Colman said, “Okay. Heads down, boys and girls. Time to vote.”

  Each of us raised our hand to vote for one person. When Ms. Colman said, “Heads up,” I looked at the board. This is what I saw:

  Addie and I had won! We were the new patrols!

  Karen’s Badge

  Two days later, I was standing on the stage in our school auditorium. Next to me was Addie. We were in a row of new patrols. On the other side of the stage was the row of old patrols. Among them were Chris Lamar and Jannie Gilbert, from my class. The old patrols were wearing their badges. In the center of the stage were Mrs. Titus and Mrs. Noonan. And in the audience were the parents of the old patrols. They were there to watch their kids put their badges on the new patrols, and to hear Mrs. Titus congratulate them. The parents looked very, very proud.

  Mrs. Titus began to speak. “Thank you for coming here this afternoon,” she said. “And thank you, patrols, for the wonderful job you have done. You have shown the other students how to be good citizens. You have worked hard. We congratulate you.”