Karen's Worst Day

  This book is for

  Read Marie Marcus,

  Josh’s little sister

  Contents

  Title Page

  Dedication

  1 Hello, My Name Is Karen

  2 Karen’s Bad Dream

  3 Kristy to the Rescue

  4 Those Mean, Bad Crunch-O People

  5 Good-Bye, Mr. Ed

  6 Boo-Boo’s Boo-Boo

  7 Fiddlesticks!

  8 You Are a Toad!

  9 Winner, Loser

  10 Moosie

  11 The Terrible, Horrible Day

  12 Here Comes the Mail Truck!

  13 Mr. Baldy

  14 Karen’s Punishment

  15 No More Cherry

  16 Karen’s Worst Day

  17 The Second Good Thing

  18 The Third Good Thing

  19 I’m Sorry

  20 Good-Night, Karen Good-Night, Kristy

  About the Author

  Also Available

  Copyright

  Hello, My Name Is Karen

  Hi! I am Karen Brewer. I am six. I have a cast on my arm. I broke my wrist two weeks ago. I was roller-skating. I had to go to the hospital and everything.

  Daddy and my big stepsister Kristy took me to the hospital. That was because I was at Daddy’s house for the weekend. See, my little brother Andrew and I live sometimes with Daddy, and most of the time with Mommy.

  Daddy and Mommy used to be married. Then they got divorced. Then they each got married again. Daddy married Elizabeth, and Mommy married Seth. That’s how come Andrew and I live in two different houses.

  The little house is Mommy’s. Andrew and I live there most of the time. (Andrew is four, by the way. And he is very shy.) We live there with Mommy and Seth and Rocky and Midgie. Rocky is Seth’s cat. Midgie is his dog. Seth likes animals and kids, which is lucky for Andrew and me.

  The big house is Daddy’s. Andrew and I live there every other weekend, and for two weeks in the summertime. Boy, is the big house big. And boy, is it full of people. Here’s who lives at the big house besides Andrew and me: Daddy, Elizabeth, Elizabeth’s kids, and Shannon and Boo-Boo. Shannon is a puppy. Boo-Boo is Daddy’s fat, old cat. He scratches and bites and goes wild. He is not very pleasant.

  Elizabeth has four kids. They are my stepbrothers and stepsister. Two of them are terribly old. They are Charlie and Sam and they go to high school. One of my stepbrothers is almost my age. David Michael. He’s seven. David Michael and I fight a lot. Then there is Kristy. Kristy is one of my favorite, favorite people. She’s thirteen. Sometimes she baby-sits for Andrew and David Michael and me.

  Andrew and I have two houses and two families and two of lots of other things. We each have two pairs of blue jeans and two pairs of sneakers and two bicycles — one for the big house, one for the little house. We have books at Mommy’s and books at Daddy’s. We have toys at Mommy’s and toys at Daddy’s. This is so we don’t have to take a lot of stuff back and forth when we go from one house to the other.

  I even have two stuffed cats — Moosie and Goosie. Moosie stays at the big house, Goosie stays at the little house. For a long time I had a problem, though. My special blanket is Tickly, and there was only one Tickly. Sometimes I would forget to bring Tickly with me. Once, I was climbing into bed at Daddy’s and I remembered Tickly was at Mommy’s. I cried. Having two houses and two families is fun sometimes, but not all the time. Anyway, finally I tore Tickly in half. Now I keep half at each house.

  One thing I don’t have two of is roller skates. I only have one pair. But that won’t matter for a long time. The doctor said no more roller-skating until the cast comes off my wrist. And it won’t come off for weeks.

  Darn.

  Why did I have to fall and break my wrist anyway? I think that was the beginning of my bad luck. I have had some bad luck lately. At Mommy’s house, Goosie was lost for two whole days. And I dropped my lunch tray at school and everyone laughed. And after I gave Andrew a very interesting new haircut, Mommy and Seth were mad at me.

  But those were just little bits of bad luck. I did not have a lot of bad luck until Saturday, when Andrew and I were back at the big house. That was one long bad-luck day. It was my worst day ever. In fact, it began the night before, when I was trying to fall asleep. I just could not go to sleep. Even with Moosie and Tickly next to me.

  I tried and tried and tried….

  Karen’s Bad Dream

  “Daddy!” I called. “Daddy!”

  Daddy was at my door in a flash.

  “Karen, what’s wrong?” he exclaimed. “Are you sick? Did you fall out of bed?”

  “No,” I answered. “I can’t fall asleep. I can’t sleep at all. I’ve been lying here for hours and hours.”

  “Honey, Kristy put you to bed twenty minutes ago,” Daddy told me.

  “Really?” I said. “Well, it seems like hours. Besides, I can see the witch out my window. And she’s up to something.”

  I think I forgot to tell you about my witch. She lives next door. All the grown-ups say she is just an old lady who wears funny black clothes. They call her Mrs. Porter. But I know better. I know she is not just an old lady. And I know she has a witch name. Her witch name is Morbidda Destiny. Morbidda Destiny can cast spells. She has an herb garden in her backyard. That’s where she grows things with strange names to use in her spells. Things like fennel and basil.

  Morbidda Destiny has a black cat, too. His name is Midnight. Midnight’s eyes are round and yellow. They stare at you. Our cat Boo-Boo does not like Midnight, but he especially does not like Midnight, but he especially does not like Morbidda Destiny. Every time he sees her, he does something weird, like race up a tree and stay there, as if his feet were glued to the trunk.

  Lots of times, I’ve seen a broom next to Morbidda Destiny’s front door. And she cackles like this, “Heh, heh, heh,” and talks to Midnight. And once I think I saw her fly out one of her windows on her broom. But I am not sure about that.

  “Karen,” said Daddy, “how many times do I have to tell you? Mrs. Porter is not a witch. She is just — ”

  “I know,” I interrupted him. “She is just an old lady who wears funny black clothes … and has a broom and a black cat.”

  Daddy sighed. Then he pulled down my window shades.

  “No more spying on Mrs. Porter,” he said. “If you stop thinking about her, you will fall asleep much faster.”

  “Okay.”

  “Think pleasant thoughts and you will have pleasant dreams.” Daddy kissed my nose and I gave him a butterfly kiss with my eyelashes.

  When he left my room, I thought very pleasant thoughts. And I did go to sleep. But I kept waking up. Each time I did, I looked at my clock. Eleven-thirty, 1: 28, 3: 44, 5:16, 6: 59….

  After 6:59, I was running out of pleasant thoughts. I had already thought of ice cream and cartoons and pets and new shoes and birthdays. What was left? … Oh! Roller-skating.

  I closed my eyes. I pictured myself in my fancy red skates, skating up and down our sidewalk.

  My mind began to float away, and soon I was skating in a dream.

  In the dream, I reached the end of our sidewalk and saw that I had come to a hill.

  If I could just skate up that hill, I thought, then I could go zooming down the other side. The hill was very steep, but a rabbit came along and said, “I will help you reach the top.” And he did. He pushed me right up.

  “Thank you,” I said, but the rabbit was already gone.

  I peeked over the hill to see what the road looked like on the other side. There was no road — just a cliff!

  Oh, well, I thought. Then I will turn around and coast down the way I came up. But before I could do that, I lost my balance.

  I was falling, falling, fall
ing….

  Kristy to the Rescue

  “Aughhh!” I screamed.

  I had landed on the rocky ground. No, I wasn’t outdoors. I was in my own bedroom. My skates were gone, the hill was gone, and I was sitting on my rug.

  I had fallen out of bed. My pillow was with me. So was Tickly. I checked my cast. It looked okay. Luckily, my arm did not hurt.

  “Karen!” Kristy burst into my room. She was wearing her nightgown but she looked wide awake. That was when I realized that the long night was finally over. Sunshine was peeking around my window shades. My clock said 8:15.

  Eight-fifteen! The last time I had looked at my clock it had said 6:59.

  “What happened?” Kristy cried. She ran to me and sat down on the floor. I crawled into her lap. “How did you fall out of bed?” she asked. “Is your arm okay?”

  It was scary falling out of bed with my cast on, but my dream had been even scarier. “My arm is fine,” I told Kristy. “But I didn’t just fall, I fell off a cliff.”

  “You were dreaming.”

  “I know. It seemed real, though.”

  “Tell me about your dream.”

  So I told Kristy about the roller skates and the disappearing rabbit and the hill and the cliff. “There was no other side of the hill,” I explained. “So I tried to turn around, but instead, I lost my balance and fell.”

  “Right out of bed,” Kristy added. “Poor Karen.”

  “Did I wake you up?” I asked. “I’m sorry if I did.”

  Kristy shook her head. “I was still in bed, but I was reading. Even if you had woken me up, I wouldn’t have minded. Everyone has bad dreams sometimes.”

  See why Kristy is one of my favorite people? Andrew and I are very lucky that she is our stepsister.

  I got to my feet. I pulled up one of my window shades and sunshine streamed into the room.

  “It’s a gorgeous day,” said Kristy. “It started off badly for you, but I’m sure things will get better now.”

  “Me, too,” I replied.

  “Why don’t you get dressed? I’ll help you.”

  (I can dress myself, of course, but it is not easy with the cast.)

  “Okay,” I said. “I think I will wear my red shirt and my new jeans. The ones with the zippers up the sides.”

  “The ones with the zippers up the sides?” repeated Kristy. “I don’t think I’ve seen those before.”

  “No, you haven’t,” I agreed. “They’re new. Mommy bought them yesterday.”

  “Where are they?” asked Kristy.

  “In my knapsack,” I replied.

  Kristy looked through the things in my knapsack. “I don’t see them,” she said. She handed me the knapsack and I looked through it, too. No jeans.

  “I must have left them at Mommy’s!” I wailed. “Darn!”

  “Oh, well,” said Kristy. “Listen, I have an idea. Put on your pink sweat shirt and your regular jeans and your white sneakers. Then I’ll surprise you.”

  I grinned. A surprise? I love surprises! I let Kristy help me into my clothes.

  “Now wait right here,” said Kristy.

  I waited. While I waited, I made my bed. (I had to do it one-handed.) Then I kissed Moosie good-morning.

  A few minutes later, Kristy came back. She was wearing jeans and white sneakers and a pink sweat shirt, too. “See? We’re twins!” she cried.

  “Neat!” I said.

  But I still wished for my zipper jeans … and that I had not fallen out of bed.

  Those Mean, Bad Crunch-O People

  Kristy and I went downstairs and into the kitchen.

  Daddy, Elizabeth, Andrew, and David Michael were already there. They were eating breakfast.

  “Well, well,” said Daddy. “Look at our twins!”

  I grinned. I felt very grown-up being Kristy’s twin.

  “They’re not really twins,” scoffed David Michael. “Real twins are exactly the same age.”

  “No way!” I said. “Real twins are not exactly the same age. They can’t be. One has to be born first. So one is always a few minutes older. In my class at school there are twins, Terri and Tammy. And Terri is a whole half an hour older than Tammy. So there.”

  “Sheesh,” said David Michael. “That is not what I meant. What I meant — ”

  “A-hem,” interrupted Daddy. “That’s enough. Kristy, Karen, are you hungry?”

  “I am,” said Kristy.

  “I’m starving,” I announced. “And I know what I want to eat — Crunch-O cereal.”

  “Too bad,” said Andrew. “I just finished the box — and I got the prize!”

  My mouth dropped open. I looked helplessly at Daddy and Elizabeth. “You finished the box and you got the prize?” I said to Andrew.

  He nodded.

  “What was the prize?”

  “Tattoos.”

  “Tattoos! That’s the best prize of all!”

  “We can share,” said Andrew.

  “Thanks,” I replied glumly. I sat down at the table. I put my chin in my hands. I had been all set for Crunch-O.

  “Karen,” said Elizabeth.

  “Yeah?”

  Elizabeth stood up. She went to the cupboard. “Look what I have,” she said.

  I looked. “Oh! A new box of Crunch-O! Thank you, Elizabeth! Thank you!” I jumped up. “Please can I look for the prize?” I asked her. “Please? Since Andrew got the other one.”

  “Well … I suppose so.”

  “Oh, goody! Thank you!”

  Elizabeth got out a mixing bowl. She helped me pour the Crunch-O into it. We poured and poured and poured — and at last the prize package slid out. I reached for it. I was about to open it when I realized something. Elizabeth had been awfully nice. I should help her put the cereal back in the box. So I held the box while Elizabeth carefully poured the cereal in it.

  Then I poured a bowl of Crunch-O for myself and added some milk.

  I sat down at the table with my cereal and the prize package.

  I took one bite of cereal — and couldn’t wait any longer. I opened the package.

  It was empty!

  “It’s empty!” I cried.

  “Oh, no. Someone at the cereal company must have made a mistake,” said Daddy.

  I stared at the empty package in dismay. “Those mean, bad Crunch-O people,” I said.

  “Hey, Karen, you can still share my prize,” Andrew spoke up. “I’ll give you half the tattoos, okay?”

  “Okay. Thank you.”

  Andrew was going to share his prize with me, but I did not have a prize of my own. And Kristy and I were twins, but I did not have my zipper jeans. So far, the day was not very good. In fact, it was half bad. What would it be like if it were all bad? I wondered.

  Good-Bye, Mr. Ed

  When breakfast was over, I wandered into the den. I sat in a chair and pulled my knees up. I rested my chin on them. So far, Saturday did not seem like a very good day. I looked at my watch. Nine twenty-five. It was still early! There was plenty of time for the bad day to turn into a good one.

  Maybe a funny TV show is on right now, I thought. And that was when I remembered Mr. Ed. Mr. Ed is the old black-and-white show about the talking horse. A man sings a funny song like this: “A horse is a horse, of course, of course.” And then Mr. Ed says, “I am Mr. Ed.”

  Mr. Ed makes me giggle.

  And Mr. Ed reruns come on our TV every Saturday and Sunday morning at nine-thirty.

  I was just about to get up and turn on Mr. Ed when Andrew ran into the den. He ran right over to the TV set. He turned it on. He switched it to Channel 5.

  KA-POW! BLAM-BLAM-BLAM!

  Andrew was watching cartoons.

  I hate cartoons. At least, I hate the cartoons that Andrew likes. The only ones I like are Muppet Babies. Or cartoons with animals and fairies in them.

  “Andrew,” I said, “Mr. Ed is on now.”

  Andrew had plopped himself on the floor right in front of the set. “So?” he replied.

  �
�So I was going to watch it.”

  “Well, I’m watching cartoons.”

  “But I want to watch Mr. Ed.”

  “But I want to watch cartoons.”

  “You can’t.”

  “I already am.”

  I jumped out of my chair. I ran over to the TV so I could switch the channel.

  “Noooo!” howled Andrew, leaping to his feet. “Leave it alone. I got here first.”

  “Did not.”

  “Did too.”

  “Did not. Didn’t you see me sitting right there?” I pointed to the chair.

  “Yes. But the television was off.”

  “So what? I — ”

  “Hey, hey, hey!” exclaimed Daddy. He strode into the den. He was taking very big steps, which meant he was cross. Or at least not happy. “What is going on in here?”

  “I wanted to watch Mr. Ed, ” I told Daddy, “but Andrew turned on these dumb cartoons.”

  “Andrew, how long is your cartoon show?” asked Daddy.

  Andrew shrugged. Daddy opened the TV Guide. “It’s an hour long,” he announced. “Mr. Ed is only half an hour long. Karen, you may watch Mr. Ed. After that, Andrew, you may watch the rest of your show. That way you’ll each get to see a half an hour of the show you like. Now, no more arguments.”

  Daddy left the room.

  Wow! I thought. Great! Finally some good luck! I could watch Mr. Ed after all. Even though I was glad about that, I stuck my tongue out at Andrew. I couldn’t help it. He had made me mad.

  I switched the channel. I switched it just in time to hear an announcer say, “In order that we may bring you the following special program, Mr. Ed will not be seen this morning. It will return tomorrow at the regularly scheduled time.”

  “Oh, no!” I cried. “Boo. Mr. Ed isn’t on.”

  Even the TV people were giving me bad luck.

  I looked at Andrew. Then I switched the TV back to his show. “You can watch your cartoons, I guess,” I told him.

  “Thanks,” replied Andrew. “You can still have half the tattoos.”

  “Thanks.”

  I left the den. I looked at my watch. Nine thirty-one. There was still time for the bad day to turn into a good day.