Karen's School Bus, Page 2

  “That is where I need your help,” said Ms. Colman. “Does anyone have any ideas?”

  I am usually very good at coming up with ideas. My hand shot up.

  “We could paint pictures and sell them,” I said. “We could charge a dollar to clean classrooms. We could tell fortunes. We could …”

  “Thank you, Karen. Those are all very good suggestions. Maybe someone else has some, too. Your homework will be to think more about the festival and write down your ideas for raising money.”

  This was a very good homework assignment. I was glad I had a lot of paper at home. I just knew I would have more ideas.

  Something Squishy

  At recess, the Three Musketeers made up a cheer to keep my spirits up for the bus ride home.

  Hannie and I sang it on the way to the bus after school.

  “We are stick-together-girls,

  Any-kind-of-weather-girls.

  We are the Three Musketeers. Hooray!”

  When we got on the bus, Hannie slipped into the same seat she had in the morning. I sat down next to her. In two seconds, I popped up like a jack-in-the-box.

  “Eww!” I cried. Something felt squishy underneath me. I looked down at my seat. I could hear the kids laughing at the back of the bus.

  “Did you get our present, Barf-Face?” called Hadley.

  The bus was pretty dark. But I could see a pile of something sickening and barflike on the seat. It was all over the back of my jean skirt, too.

  “Do not worry,” said Hannie. “It is just soggy cereal.”

  She helped me wipe off the seat with our leftover lunch napkins. Hadley and her pals were laughing and calling me names the whole time.

  I knew they wanted me to cry. But I did not. Not for one whole minute. Not one tear.

  I waited until I got home. I ran up to my room and closed the door. I pulled off my jean skirt and put on clean leggings. Then I flomped down on the bed and cried and cried.

  “Oh, Moosie,” I said through my tears. “The big kids on the bus are being so mean to me. And all because I was nervous and got sick on the bus.”

  Moosie gave me a great big hug. I decided that Moosie was the only one I was going to tell. I did not want anyone feeling sorry for me. I did not want anyone to think I was a baby.

  “Thank you, Moosie,” I said. “I feel much better.”

  I washed my face. I was about to start my homework when Elizabeth called me to dinner.

  I went downstairs with my notebook and pencil.

  “Attention, everyone,” I said in between bites of spaghetti. “We are having a Fall Festival at school. We need to find ways to raise money to buy books. Does anyone have any ideas?”

  “A bake sale is always nice,” said Nannie. “I could help you make cookies and cakes.”

  “That is a good idea, Nannie. Thank you,” I said.

  I wrote down Nannie’s idea. I was starting to feel like my teacher, Ms. Colman.

  “Does anyone else have an idea?” I said. Then I added, “Please raise your hand if you do.”

  “Hey, this is not school,” said David Michael.

  “Oh, all right,” I said. “Do you have an idea?”

  “You could have a game booth and sell tickets,” said David Michael.

  “Thank you. I will write that down,” I replied.

  “ ’Tory time?” said Emily.

  I think Emily was asking to hear a story. But I made believe she was making a suggestion.

  “Very good, Emily. We can charge a nickel a story,” I replied.

  By the time I finished dinner, I had two pages of ideas. Ms. Colman was going to be very happy.

  Crybaby

  There were green, gloopy globs on my ceiling. They were dripping onto the floor of my room.

  In my head, I heard a voice say, “Glob-Face!”

  I sat up in my bed. I looked all around. No one was there. I looked at the ceiling. It was clean and white.

  “Oh, Moosie! I just had a terrible nightmare,” I said.

  I held Moosie in my arms. Soon I fell asleep again. The next thing I knew the sun was shining in my window.

  It was Wednesday morning. I got out of bed. But I did not get dressed. I went to the kitchen in my pajamas.

  “Karen, honey, are you all right?” asked Elizabeth.

  “I have a very bad stomachache,” I said. “I am too sick to go to school.”

  “Let me see if you have a fever,” said Daddy.

  He touched my cheeks and my forehead.

  “You do not feel warm,” Daddy said. “Are you sure you can’t make it to school today?”

  “I am sure. I am afraid I will be sick on the bus again,” I said.

  “Don’t you want to tell Ms. Colman all your good ideas for the Fall Festival?” said Elizabeth.

  “Yes. But maybe I could call her,” I said.

  “Do you really and truly feel sick, Karen?” asked Daddy.

  “Not really and truly. At least not now. But I am really and truly afraid I will get sick on the bus. It is very bouncy,” I said.

  “Try it again this morning,” said Elizabeth. “We think that would be best.”

  I got dressed and ate a tiny breakfast. That way I would only be a little sick.

  When the bus pulled up, Hannie and I headed for our seats. But Hannie’s seat was already taken. Meanie Hadley was sitting there.

  There were other big kids up front, too. They were sitting in every other seat. Hannie and I could not find two empty seats together.

  “Now what, Barf-Face? You can’t sit next to your buddy, can you?” said one of the boys.

  I could feel my eyes filling up with tears.

  I will not cry, I will not cry, I told myself.

  “I hope Barf-Face does not sit next to me,” said Hadley. “I left my Barf-Coat home.”

  That did it. The tears spilled over. They rolled down my cheeks. I was crying in front of everyone.

  “Crybaby, crybaby, better dry your eyes, baby!” sang the big kids.

  I was still crying a little bit when I walked into Ms. Colman’s room. I was glad Ms. Colman was not there yet. I would have been embarrassed if she saw me crying, too.

  “What happened?” asked Nancy.

  Hannie and I took turns telling Nancy what the mean kids did.

  “And they called me a crybaby,” I said.

  “That is awful,” said Nancy. “I do not have that trouble. Bully Bobby protects me from the big kids.”

  I wished someone were on my bus to protect me. I wished I could bring Sam and Charlie. They would not let those kids be mean to me. They would not let them call me Barf-Face and crybaby.

  Cake Walk

  There was no more time for crying. I had important work to do.

  Ms. Colman needed our ideas for the Fall Festival. When it was my turn, I stood up and read my list to the class. I had more ideas than anyone.

  “Thank you for your ideas,” said Ms. Colman. “I noticed that several of you suggested a bake sale. There is a special kind of bake sale you might like. It is called a Cake Walk. Does anyone know what a Cake Walk is?”

  My hand shot up. I knew everything about Cake Walks. Kristy had one at her school last year.

  “Will you explain it to us, Karen?” said Ms. Colman.

  “Sure,” I said. “You paint a big circle on the ground. You draw lines inside so it looks like a pie. You number the slices of pie. I will show you.”

  I went up to the blackboard and drew a picture. I felt gigundoly important.

  “This is how you play the game,” I said. “There is music playing. The kids walk around inside the circle. When the music stops, the kids stop walking. Someone calls out a number. Whoever is standing in the slice with that number wins. The prize is a wonderful cake. Any questions?”

  There were no questions. I was turning into a very excellent teacher.

  “Thank you, Karen. That was very helpful,” said Ms. Colman.

  The class voted. We decided that a Cake
Walk was the best idea of all. We could charge a dollar a turn to play. We would make so much money. We could buy a whole library of books!

  It was time for our math lesson. But first I had to think about the cake Nannie and I would make. What kind should it be? A wedding cake? A birthday cake? No. Those were ordinary. I wanted to make something really special.

  A circus cake! I was the ringmaster in my summer circus camp. So I knew everything about the circus.

  Hurry, hurry, hurry! Step right up for the greatest cake on earth.

  Meanies

  “See you tomorrow!” I called to Nancy.

  I was in a happy mood when I left school on Wednesday. I had a very good plan for my circus cake. And I was the winner of our class spelling bee. (I am an excellent speller. That is E-X-C-E-L-L-E-N-T.)

  Hannie and I walked to the bus stop together. I was in such a good mood, I did not think the ride home would bother me one bit.

  I was wrong. As soon as I got on the bus, Hadley tripped me.

  When I tripped, I dropped my notebook. The big kids got it and took it to the back of the bus. They played “Hot Potato” with it.

  I wished the bus driver would help me. But he was too busy watching the road.

  “Give my notebook back,” I said.

  “Make us,” said Hadley.

  I could not make them. So I started to cry again.

  “Crybaby, crybaby, better dry your eyes, baby!” sang the big kids.

  They gave back my notebook before I got off the bus. The page with my circus cake picture was torn down the middle.

  I wiped my face carefully before I walked into my house. I did not want anyone to know I was a crybaby.

  “Hi, honey,” said Nannie. “How was school today?”

  “School was fun,” I said.

  I was glad she did not ask about the bus ride home.

  On Thursday Hannie picked me up at the big house. We walked to the bus stop together.

  “They will get tired of being meanies,” said Hannie.

  “I hope so,” I said.

  But they did not get tired of being meanies on Thursday morning.

  Hadley put an ice cube down my shirt. While Hannie was helping me get it out, another kid put one down Hannie’s shirt.

  “Baby one and baby two, stick together just like glue,” sang Hadley.

  That afternoon the big kids did not do one bad thing the whole way home. I could not believe it.

  “You see. I told you they would get tired of being meanies,” said Hannie.

  I thought Hannie was right until we tried getting up. We could not. We were stuck to our seats!

  “Boo-hoo, stuck with glue!” sang the kids from the back.

  I had to pull hard to get off the seat. A little bit of my navy blue leggings was left behind.

  Hannie and I ran off the bus and down the street.

  “T.G.I.F.!” said Hannie. (That means Thank Goodness It’s Friday.)

  Only one more day until the weekend. “T.D.W.H.!” I said.

  “What is that?” asked Hannie.

  “Two Days Without Hadley!” I replied.

  We ran the whole way home. I was never so happy to see my house. I waved to Hannie and went inside.

  Hot Chili Sandwich

  “Karen, you have hardly touched your dinner,” said Nannie. “Are you okay?”

  “I am not very hungry,” I said.

  Friday night dinners are usually my favorite. Especially when everyone is home. Sometimes Kristy has to leave early for a baby-sitting job. Sometimes Sam or Charlie leave early to meet their friends. But tonight everyone was there.

  I wanted to have fun. But I could not. I was too busy thinking about Hadley and the bus.

  I did not have much fun after dinner either.

  “Do you want to play ‘Go Fish’?” asked David Michael.

  “No thanks,” I replied.

  “Do you want to watch TV with me?” asked Andrew.

  “No thanks,” I said.

  “ ’Tory time?” asked Emily.

  “Not tonight,” I said.

  “You are no fun,” said Andrew.

  “You are right,” I said.

  I went up to my room. I found a book called Bully Trouble on my shelf. It is about a mean boy who bullies two little kids. But the little kids get back at the boy. They trick him into eating a hot chili sandwich. I liked that story.

  I went to sleep thinking about Hadley Smith. I dreamed that I was going to trick her into eating a hot chili sandwich. But the dream turned into a nightmare. Hadley found out about the trick and made me eat the sandwich instead.

  I woke up very thirsty.

  On Saturday night I dreamed all the kids on the bus were Hadley Smith. Everywhere I looked there were meanie Hadleys. That was my worst nightmare ever.

  By the time I woke up on Monday morning, I had a plan.

  “I am not going to ride the bus today,” I told Hannie on the way to the bus stop. “I am going to walk to school instead.”

  “Are you sure, Karen? I don’t think it is such a good idea,” said Hannie.

  “Riding the bus is a much worse idea,” I replied.

  When we got to the bus stop, I left Hannie and turned the corner. I did not want to go the same way as the bus. I did not want anyone to see me.

  I walked and walked. I walked and walked. By the time I got to school, I was very late.

  “I am glad to see you, Karen,” said Ms. Colman. “Do you have a note from home explaining why you are late?”

  “I will bring it tomorrow,” I replied.

  After school, I walked Hannie to the bus stop again.

  “Are you going to ride home?” asked Hannie.

  “No way. I am not getting on that bus. I am going to run home. That way I will not be too late,” I said.

  I tied the laces on my sneakers. I tugged my knapsack straps tight.

  “On my mark, get set, go!” I said to myself.

  And I ran all the way home.

  I Hate This Bus

  I woke up extra early Tuesday morning. I was going to walk to school again. I did not want to be late two days in a row. Especially since I did not have a letter explaining why I was late the day before.

  Plink! Plink-plink-plink! Uh-oh. I looked out my window. It was raining hard. I did not care. I was still going to walk to school.

  After breakfast, I got dressed. Then I put on my yellow boots and raincoat. I found my cats and dogs umbrella in my closet. There were six cats and six dogs on it. I had a name for every one of them. Now I would have lots of company on my walk.

  “Ready, everyone?” I asked.

  I pretended there was lots of barking and meowing. That meant they were ready for our walk to school.

  I slipped downstairs. I was almost out the door when Nannie stopped me.

  “Aren’t you leaving very early this morning?” she said.

  “I think the bus comes early when it is raining,” I replied.

  “Well, you almost forgot your lunch,” said Nannie. She tucked it into my knapsack.

  “Thank you, Nannie,” I said.

  I walked down the block.

  “Good-bye forever, Hadley Smith!” I said when I passed the bus stop.

  I walked and walked. I walked and walked.

  Suddenly I heard a car horn honking. The horn sounded familiar.

  I turned around and saw a station wagon. It looked familiar, too.

  “Karen, what are you doing?” called Daddy. “Please get into the car this minute.”

  I forgot that Daddy drove to work this way. I could see he was worried.

  “What is wrong, Karen?” asked Daddy. “Why are you walking to school instead of taking the bus?”

  “I hate riding that bus,” I said.

  “What is the matter with it?” asked Daddy.

  I did not want to tell Daddy that the big kids were bothering me.

  “I just do not like it,” I said.

  “Well, I am sorry, Karen,” said
Daddy. “You will have to ride the bus from now on.”

  Daddy drove me to school. He stopped to talk to Ms. Colman.

  “Please be sure Karen gets on the bus this afternoon. I do not want her walking home alone. It is not safe,” said Daddy.

  After school, Ms. Colman walked me to the bus stop. She watched me get on. She stayed until the doors closed and the bus drove away.

  I was trapped.

  “Hey, look. Barf-Face is back,” called Hadley. “Where have you been? We missed you so, so much.”

  “So did our little friend,” said another big kid.

  He tossed something in my lap. It was green and wiggly, with lots of legs.

  I jumped up and screamed. The wiggly thing fell off my lap. It was a green rubber spider.

  The big kids were all laughing.

  “Along came a spider. He sat down beside her. He scared Little Barf-Face away!” called Hadley.

  I really did hate this bus.

  Baby, Baby!

  It was Wednesday morning. Daddy wanted to walk me to the bus stop.

  “I can get on the bus myself, Daddy. Really I can. And I will. I promise,” I said.

  “I am going with you, Karen,” said Daddy. “I want to have a word with the bus driver.”

  I did not know what good that would do. The bus driver never seemed to notice what was going on. Maybe that was a good thing. At least the driver would not tell Daddy how the big kids were teasing me.

  “Hello, Hannie,” said Daddy when we got to the bus stop.

  “Hi, Mr. Brewer,” said Hannie. She turned and gave me a “What-is-going-on?” look.

  The other kids were not joking around the way they usually did. That is because a Grown-up was there. My Grown-up. I was so embarrassed.

  “Here comes the bus!” said Linny. (He said that every morning.)

  I climbed onto the bus. I turned to Daddy.

  “You are not going to come on, are you? You can talk to the driver from there, right?” I said.

  “No,” said Daddy. “I am coming up.”

  Omigosh! Daddy climbed right onto the bus. There was suddenly a lot of whispering at the back of the bus. And giggling, too.

  “I would like you to keep an eye on my daughter, Karen,” said Daddy. “She has been feeling a little uncomfortable on the bus.”