Karen's New Friend

  This book is for Leigh and Allison — Welcome!

  Contents

  Title Page

  Dedication

  1 The New Kid

  2 Hawaii

  3 The Fire

  4 Adelaide

  5 Recess

  6 Addie’s Best Friend

  7 Ms. Colman’s Wedding

  8 Karen the Helper

  9 Going to the Mall

  10 The Relatives Take Over

  11 “We Have to Be Nice”

  12 Escape!

  13 The Big Fight

  14 The Mystery Man

  15 “Leave Me Alone!”

  16 Ashley and Grace

  17 Karen and Addie

  18 Friendship

  19 Mr. Henry Simmons

  20 The Good-bye Party

  About the Author

  Also Available

  Copyright

  The New Kid

  One Friday morning, my teacher wrote two words on the blackboard. She wrote them in capital letters, like this:

  Then she left them on the board. She opened her attendance book.

  “I wonder what she is doing?” I said to Hannie and Nancy.

  Hannie Papadakis and Nancy Dawes are my two best friends. I am Karen Brewer. Hannie and Nancy and I call ourselves the Three Musketeers. We are so lucky that we get to be in Ms. Colman’s second-grade class together. Not all best friends can be in the same classroom. And not every teacher is as wonderful as Ms. Colman. Ms. Colman is patient. Ms. Colman is funny. Ms. Colman is full of surprises. Ms. Colman hardly ever yells. When we yell, she just reminds us to use our indoor voices. (Ms. Colman is going to get married soon.)

  Before my friends and I could figure out why Ms. Colman had written those words on the board, the bell rang. We scrambled for our seats. Nancy and Hannie sit next to each other in the back row. I have to sit in the front row. That is because I wear glasses. (I even have two pairs. The blue pair is for reading. The pink pair is for the rest of the time. Except for when I am asleep, of course.) Ms. Colman likes for the glasses-wearers to sit up front, near the blackboard. I sit between Natalie Springer and Ricky Torres. Ricky is my pretend husband. We got married on the playground one afternoon.

  Ms. Colman took attendance. We listened to the morning announcements. Then our teacher pointed to the board. “Who can read these words?” she asked us. “Can you sound them out?” We sounded them out. “Who knows what they mean?” she asked.

  “When you can’t walk?” suggested Natalie.

  “That is one kind of handicap,” said Ms. Colman. Then she added, “A person who is blind or deaf is handicapped or disabled, too.”

  We talked about people who cannot do some things as well as most other people can. Then Ms. Colman said, “Boys and girls, on Monday a new student will join our class. Her name is Addie. She has cerebral palsy and she cannot use her legs. She uses a wheelchair instead.”

  “The new kid is a girl?” said Bobby Gianelli. He made a face. “Our last new kid was a girl. This room has too many girls. The boys are outnumbered!”

  I raised my hand. “Where is Addie moving from?” I asked.

  “Oh, she lives here in Stoneybrook,” Ms. Colman replied. “She is just switching schools. She did not move.”

  Then Nancy raised her hand. “What is cerebral palsy?” she wanted to know.

  “When a person has cerebral palsy,” said Ms. Colman, “her brain has trouble sending messages to some parts of her body. That is why Addie cannot use her legs to walk or run, like you can. But the rest of Addie is fine. She can use her hands. She can read and write. She can laugh and sing and tell jokes. I hope you will make Addie feel welcome on Monday. It is not easy being the new kid in school.”

  I remembered our last new student, Pamela Harding. Pamela is a snob. She turned out to be my best enemy. Addie just had to be nicer than Pamela. I wondered what Addie looked like. I wondered what she liked to do. I wondered so much that I had a little trouble paying attention to Ms. Colman. I had even more trouble after lunch. That is because I was thinking about the weekend. It was a big-house weekend, and I was excited.

  Hawaii

  A big-house weekend is a weekend at Daddy’s. See, I live in two houses, Mommy’s little house and Daddy’s big house. That is because my parents are divorced. They do not live together anymore. A long time ago, they used to be married. Then we all lived in the big house — Daddy, Mommy, me, and Andrew. (Andrew is my little brother. He is four going on five.) But after awhile Mommy and Daddy decided they did not love each other anymore. They loved Andrew and me very much, but not each other. So they divorced. Daddy stayed in the big house. (He grew up there.) Mommy moved to the little house. She brought Andrew and me with her. The little house is not far from the big house. Both of them are in Stoneybrook, Connecticut.

  After awhile an interesting thing happened. Mommy and Daddy got married again, but not to each other. Mommy married Seth. Now he is my stepfather. Daddy married Elizabeth. Now she is my stepmother.

  Here are the people in my little-house family: Mommy, Seth, me, Andrew. Plus some pets. We have three. Rocky and Midgie are Seth’s cat and dog. Emily Junior is my rat.

  Here are the people in my big-house family: Daddy, Elizabeth, Nannie, Andrew, me, Kristy, Sam, Charlie, David Michael, and Emily Michelle. Our pets are Shannon, Boo-Boo, Crystal Light the Second, and Goldfishie. Nannie is Elizabeth’s mother, so she is my stepgrandmother. Kristy, Sam, Charlie, and David Michael are Elizabeth’s kids, so they are my stepsister and stepbrothers. (Elizabeth was married once before she married Daddy.) Sam and Charlie are big. They go to high school. David Michael is seven like me. Well, actually, he is a few months older, which is important to him, but not to me. Kristy is thirteen, and she is a baby-sitter. I just love Kristy. She is the best big sister I could ever have. She plays with me and takes care of me. And when I am at the little house, she calls me on the phone. Emily Michelle is my adopted sister. She is two and a half. Daddy and Elizabeth adopted her from the country of Vietnam, which is very far away. Mostly Emily is okay, but sometimes she is a pain. (I named my rat after her.) Shannon is David Michael’s puppy, and Boo-Boo is Daddy’s fat old tomcat. Crystal Light the Second and Goldfishie are goldfish. (What a surprise.) They belong to Andrew and me.

  Usually, Andrew and I live at Mommy’s house. But every other weekend and on some vacations and holidays we live at Daddy’s. We also live at Daddy’s whenever Mommy and Seth take a vacation. And very soon they were going to Hawaii for two weeks. They had been waiting and waiting for that trip. So had Andrew and I. We just love being at the big house. We could not wait to live there for two weeks. We feel very special at Daddy’s.

  Do you know what I call my brother and me? I call us Andrew Two-Two and Karen Two-Two. (I got the idea for those names after Ms. Colman read our class a book called Jacob Two-Two Meets the Hooded Fang.) We are two-twos because we have two houses and two families, two mommies and two daddies, two dogs and two cats. Plus, I have two stuffed cats — Goosie at the little house, Moosie at the big house. I have toys and books and clothes at each house. I have my two best friends — Nancy at the little house, Hannie at the big house. And of course I have those two pairs of glasses.

  My big-house weekend was going to be gigundoly fun. I would not even mind leaving on Sunday. That was because Andrew and I would go right back on Friday for two whole weeks.

  The Fire

  The big-house weekend was fun. It was perfect. On Saturday afternoon, Kristy took me to the movies. Just us sisters. On Saturday evening, everyone was at home for dinner. Afterward, Daddy and Elizabeth let us make our own ice-cream sundaes. Then on Sunday (the day, not the dessert), I went to Hannie’s house. We played with our Barbies.

  After a
while, Hannie said, “This year I decided to make my valentines.”

  “Me, too,” I said. “And it is a good thing Valentine’s Day will not be here for awhile. Think of all the cards I have to make. Eleven, just for the people in my two families. Then there are all the kids in our class.”

  “Plus Ms. Colman,” added Hannie. “Don’t forget Ms. Colman.”

  “Oh, I wouldn’t,” I replied. “Not ever. I have to make Ms. Colman an extra special Valentine’s Day card.”

  “So do I,” said Hannie.

  But we were not sure what to make.

  I was still thinking about Ms. Colman’s card when I went back to the big house for lunch. Maybe I would make a card out of felt. Or maybe I would make a gigundo card, as tall as Ms. Colman. I liked the idea of a tall card a lot. When lunch was over I decided I better phone Hannie to tell her about it.

  I reached for the phone and — Ring, ring!

  I picked it up right away. So did someone else.

  “Hello?” I said.

  “Hello?” said Elizabeth. She must have answered the phone upstairs.

  “Elizabeth?” said the voice.

  “Colleen?” cried Elizabeth. “Hi, honey!”

  Colleen is Elizabeth’s sister. I have met her a couple of times. Like at the wedding when Daddy and Elizabeth got married. Colleen lives in Massachusetts (I think). She is married to a man named Wallace. Colleen and Wallace are Kristy’s aunt and uncle. (And Sam’s and Charlie’s and David Michael’s.) They have four children named Ashley, Berk, Grace, and Peter. I have met the kids, too. At the wedding and one other time. But I do not remember them very well.

  “Elizabeth,” Colleen began. She sounded kind of chokey.

  “What’s wrong?” asked Elizabeth. “Something is wrong. I can tell.”

  “There was a fire in our house last night.”

  “Oh, no! Was anyone at home?”

  “No,” said Colleen. “Thank goodness.”

  “Wait a sec,” said Elizabeth. “I’m going to put Watson on the cordless phone. I want him to hear this, too.” (Watson is Daddy.)

  No one told me to get off the phone in the kitchen, so I did not. (Actually, I do not think anyone knew I was on.)

  “Watson?” said Elizabeth. “Colleen is on the phone. They had a fire in their house last night.”

  “I’m so sorry,” said Daddy. “What happened?”

  “We are not sure how the fire started,” Colleen replied. “But it caused a lot of damage. The house can be repaired. It will take awhile, though. And we cannot live in it now. We spent last night with our neighbors. The kids are just starting a two-week school vacation — ”

  Daddy interrupted Colleen then. “Come stay with us,” he said. “Spend the vacation here. There is room for everyone. Karen and Andrew will be here next week, too. But that is okay.”

  “Oh, thank you!” said Colleen. “We will come tomorrow.”

  Goodness, I thought. You just never know what to expect.

  Adelaide

  On Monday morning, Seth drove Nancy and me to school.

  “Today we meet Addie,” I reminded Nancy. “The new girl.”

  We wondered what Addie looked like. We wondered what her wheelchair looked like. We wondered many things. We did not have to wait long to find out about them.

  When Nancy and I reached our classroom, Hannie was already there. So were some other kids. So was Ms. Colman. So were Addie and her mother and another teacher. I did not know the other teacher’s name, but I had seen her around school.

  Sure enough, Addie was sitting in a wheelchair. It was not a big wheelchair for grown-ups. It was just Addie’s size. A tray rested across the front of the wheelchair, over Addie’s knees. I guessed that was her desk. Addie’s wheelchair would not fit under any of the desks in the room. Slung over the side of the wheelchair was a big tote bag. Addie could carry things with her wherever she went.

  Do you know what? Addie’s chair and the tray and even the tote bag were covered with stickers. Stickers, stickers everywhere. Fuzzy stickers, glittery stickers, puffy stickers. Stickers that were words and pictures and designs. I had never seen so many stickers in one place.

  Addie was sitting up tall in her chair. She was talking to Ms. Colman. She looked like any other girl in our class. She was wearing sneakers and jeans and a baggy shirt. Her dark hair was tied with a red ribbon.

  I watched as Ms. Colman showed Addie where she would sit. Then Addie wheeled herself to the aisle between Ricky’s desk and the windows. She set the brake on her chair. She found two pencils in her tote bag and put them on her tray. She was ready for school.

  Addie’s mother kissed her good-bye. She left the room. Ms. Colman went to the blackboard. The other teacher moved to the back of the room. My friends and I settled down. We kept glancing at Addie.

  After the morning announcements, Ms. Colman said, “Boys and girls, our new student has joined us today. Addie, would you like to tell us a little about yourself?”

  “Okay,” said Addie. She did not sound shy. In fact, she moved her chair to the front of the room so she was facing everyone. “My name is Adelaide Sidney,” she began. “Everyone calls me Addie. I used to go to Stoneybrook Elementary. I like to write poems and draw and read, and I collect stickers. I have one brother and one sister. My brother is nine and he is a big pain. My sister is four and she says I am a big pain.” (We laughed.) “I have cerebral palsy. That is why I cannot walk. I use my chair instead. But I can use my arms and hands.” Addie paused and pointed to the teacher in the back of the room. “That’s Miss Penn,” she went on. “She is going to be my helper. She will look in on me every day to see if I need any special help. I guess that is all I can think of,” said Addie. And she wheeled herself back to her place next to Ricky.

  Ms. Colman smiled at her. “Thank you very much, Addie. All right, class. Please take out your reading books.”

  It was time for our work to begin. We worked hard all morning. But I kept peeking over at Addie. I think everyone else was peeking at her, too. I know Ricky and Natalie were. But nobody said anything to Addie. Not even when Ms. Colman gave us a break and told us to let our energy out. I guess we were not sure just what to say.

  Recess

  All morning Addie sat in her wheelchair and worked at her tray. Everything she needed was in her tote bag — her pencils, her erasers, her paper, even a book to read. Her tote bag was like the inside of my desk.

  Addie raised her hand a lot. I think she liked her new school.

  At lunchtime, our class lined up to walk to the cafeteria. Addie lined up with us. She was right in front of me. When Ms. Colman led us into the hall, Addie pushed herself along in her chair. Miss Penn asked her if she needed help getting through the doorway, but Addie said, “No, thank you,” and she did it herself.

  The Three Musketeers sat together at one of the long tables in the cafeteria. We try to sit together whenever we can. That is what best friends do.

  “Where will Addie sit?” I whispered to Hannie. “I do not think she can sit on these benches.”

  Hannie and Nancy and I watched Addie. Miss Penn was showing Addie that she could sit at the end of our table where there was no bench. Addie did not even need the table anyway. She ate on her tray.

  Ricky Torres was sitting next to me. He leaned over and whispered in my ear, “I wonder what Addie eats for lunch.”

  “She eats what anyone eats, stupid,” I told him.

  But I watched Addie to make sure I was right. We were all watching Addie. We watched her open her lunch bag. We watched her take out an apple, a sandwich, and a juice box. We watched her bite into the sandwich.

  After awhile I whispered to Nancy, “Do you think Addie can go outside for recess? What can she do on the playground?”

  Nancy did not know. But I got an answer to my question anyway. When my friends and I were finishing our lunches and getting ready for the playground, Ms. Colman came to our table. She whispered something to Addie. Addie nodded. Then sh
e cleaned off her tray. She followed Ms. Colman out of the cafeteria. I think they were going back to our classroom.

  “Poor Addie,” I said. “She cannot play on the playground.”

  At recess, the Three Musketeers stood together by the monkey bars. After awhile, Natalie Springer joined us. Then Ricky and Bobby and Hank Reubens came over. So did Pamela Harding and her friends Jannie and Leslie. So did Terri and Tammy, the twins.

  “I did not know Addie would be able to push herself in her wheelchair,” said Leslie. “I thought Miss Penn would push her.”

  “Addie’s arms must get tired,” I said.

  “She is very good at spelling,” said Ricky. “I looked at her worksheet.”

  “If I were Addie, I would not like to sit down all the time,” said Terri.

  “How do you think she goes to the bathroom?” asked Jannie.

  “Maybe that’s what Miss Penn helps her with,” said Tammy.

  “Who here thinks Addie is nice?” asked Pamela. “Raise your hand.”

  A couple of kids started to raise their hands. Then they put them down.

  “Who here thinks she is weird?” asked Pamela.

  Not one hand was raised. Except for Pamela’s.

  “I think she is weird,” she said.

  “She is not!” I cried. “Addie is not weird! She just cannot walk. Anyway, Pamela, don’t you feel sorry for Addie? I do. Terri is right. Addie has to sit down all the time. That is no fun. She cannot even come outside for recess. We should all be nice to Addie. I am going to be extra nice to her from now on.”

  Pamela stuck her tongue out at me. “You do not know everything, Karen Brewer,” she said. “Even though you think you do.”

  I stuck my tongue out at Pamela. I crossed my eyes at her, too. Then I said to Nancy and Hannie, “Come on. Let’s play by ourselves.”

  We left Meanie Pamela behind.

  I promised myself I would be a good friend to Addie.

  Addie’s Best Friend

  While I was on the playground with my friends, I had an idea. It was an idea about Addie, and it was a good one.