Larger Font   Reset Font Size   Smaller Font  

Karen's Sleigh Ride, Page 3

Ann M. Martin


  “It is gigundoly perfect,” I said.

  “Good,” said Daddy. “Now, let’s take it home.”

  * * *

  That night I wanted to skip dinner and start putting up Christmas decorations. But Nannie, Elizabeth, and Daddy all said I had to sit down and eat something. So I quickly wolfed down some chicken casserole. Then I sat, bouncing a little in my chair, until everyone else had finished.

  “All right, Karen,” said Daddy, wiping his mouth with his napkin. “I think we are ready.”

  “Great!” I cried. I leaped from my chair and ran to the living room. Daddy had put the tree in its stand, in front of the big living-room window. At night, when it was lit, people would be able to see our tree as they drove by.

  Nannie had organized all our decorations. Kristy and Sam put evergreen garlands on the staircase railings. Charlie and Daddy stood on ladders to put ornaments on the top of the tree. Andrew, Nannie, David Michael, and I put ornaments on the bottom of the tree. Elizabeth made hot chocolate. Then she put special Christmas candles on the mantels.

  Emily Michelle was not helpful at all. She kept grabbing tree ornaments (breakable ones). I tried to help her put the Christmas elves on the very bottom branches of the tree, but she did not want to do that. She got in Daddy’s way on the ladder, and pulled down one of Kristy’s red ribbons.

  “Emily,” cried Kristy. “Please do not do that.”

  “Pwesants!” said Emily Michelle. “Santa!”

  “Come here, sweetie,” said Nannie. “I will give you some ornaments to put on the tree by yourself.” She handed Emily some soft fabric ornaments. Emily grabbed a branch roughly, then cried out when the needles pricked her. The branch swung back, and a glass ornament fell off and broke on the floor.

  “Emily Michelle!” I cried. “You are being a pain!”

  My little sister burst into tears.

  “Karen, you do not have to snap at her,” said Daddy.

  “I am sorry,” I said. Now Daddy and Elizabeth were upset with me. Emily was upset with me too. At the moment, I did not feel very Christmassy.

  Dashing Through the Snow

  Later I apologized to Emily. She forgave me. I was feeling lots of Christmas spirit — and I just had to remind myself to feel some for Emily too.

  The winter festival was going to take place four days before Christmas. Only one weekend was left before the festival, and there was still a lot to do.

  Plus, I had not come up with a good idea for gifts for my two best friends. But I had not had much time to think about that. Now Christmas was just around the corner. I had to come up with something soon.

  On Saturday morning, Hannie, Nancy, and I met Kristy and the other members of the Baby-sitters Club at the Stones’ farm.

  “Okay, everyone, listen up,” Kristy said. “The sleigh rides will be on a circular route along these old cart tracks and through those woods.” She pointed to the woods that bordered the Stones’ property. “We need to make sure there is a clear path. We will mark that path with red ribbons and small lights. Okay?”

  “Okay,” we replied.

  Marking the trail was hard work, but fun. We had bundled up extra warmly. Kristy and her friends stomped through the snow, looking for openings wide enough for the sleigh. They held branch cutters and hedge clippers. Sometimes they would trim a small branch that was in the way.

  The Three Musketeers followed the older kids. We carried armfuls of red ribbons. We tied them to small trees on each side of the trail so that Charlie would be able to see which way to go. Later, Sam and Charlie would nail up strings of small lights along the trail.

  “It will look like a magical forest,” said Hannie as she tied a red ribbon.

  “I cannot wait to take a sleigh ride,” said Nancy. “Will there be warm blankets in the sleigh?”

  “Yes.” I nodded. “Plenty of warm blankets in the sleigh. And plenty of hot chocolate and spicy cider for afterward.”

  “I am so glad you thought of this, Karen,” said Hannie.

  “Thank you,” I said. “I just hope that we will earn enough money for the Stones to rebuild their barn.”

  * * *

  The next day we all trooped to the Stones’ farm again. We set up areas for the snowman-building contest and the ice-sculpting contest. We marked the edges of the Stones’ frozen pond so people could ice-skate. My stepfather, Seth, and some of his carpenter friends were making booths. People in the booths would sell refreshments and tickets and homemade crafts. There would also be games, such as beanbag throwing and a ring toss.

  Mrs. Stone came outside and offered us cookies and something warm to drink. “My goodness,” she said, “I have never seen people work so hard. I cannot tell you how much we appreciate this.”

  “We are happy to do it,” said Kristy.

  “We are having fun,” said Jessi Ramsey.

  “It is all in the Christmas spirit,” I said grandly.

  As my friends and I ate our cookies, I thought again about presents for Hannie and Nancy. I did not have much money to spend. Could I learn to knit before Christmas? Maybe I could knit them scarves. Then I shook my head. There was no way I would have enough time to knit two scarves before Christmas. Even I knew that. What could I do, what could I do …

  “Karen, what are you thinking about?” asked Hannie. “You are frowning so hard, your glasses are fogging up.”

  I giggled. My glasses were not really fogging up.

  “Oh, I am just thinking about the festival,” I said.

  “It is going to be so much fun,” said Nancy.

  “I cannot wait,” said Hannie.

  I nodded. I was really looking forward to having fun at the festival, but I was also not looking forward to it. Because by the winter festival, Christmas would be only four days away. If I did not have great gifts for Hannie and Nancy by then, things would not be so merry after all.

  Not Good Enough?

  Later that week Daddy hosted a winter-festival meeting at the big house. Practically a million people came. Because it had all been my idea, I sat next to Daddy at the dining-room table. One by one people reported on what they had been doing. We already knew about some things. Other things were news to us. But it was the first time everyone had met together to talk about the festival.

  “My friends and I have been selling tickets,” Kristy told us. “We have sold almost two hundred tickets for ten dollars each. One ticket allows a person to enter all the contests and take one sleigh ride. Plus we will be selling tickets at the door.”

  Daddy wrote down the numbers in a notebook.

  Mrs. Epstein from the library board stood up next. “Members of the library board will be donating the refreshments,” she said. “We will have not chocolate, hot apple cider, sodas, coffee, and tea. We will also have sandwiches, doughnuts, caramel popcorn, cookies, cakes, pies, and hot soup. And we will be selling whole cakes, pies, and breads at our library booth.”

  “That is great,” said Daddy. He wrote down all that information. “Let me see, if everyone buys at least one food item, and over two hundred people come …” He took out his calculator and added some figures. “Good. The refreshments will be a terrific source of income. Thank you.”

  Mrs. Epstein sat down.

  Mr. Cookson, who works with Elizabeth at her ad agency, stood up. “We have been collecting cash donations at our office,” he said. “We have collected over four hundred dollars so far.”

  “Wonderful,” said Daddy. He wrote it down.

  “My school has collected money too,” said David Michael. “We have one hundred and twenty-seven dollars here.”

  “That’s great,” said Daddy.

  Hundreds and hundreds of dollars! I could not believe how much money people had donated. I bet the Stones would have enough money to build a humongous, fancy barn, and have some money left over. Maybe they would buy more animals to fill up the new barn.

  Daddy was using his calculator again. He cleared his throat. “I estimate that our
final figure will be about five thousand dollars, give or take a couple hundred,” he said. “That will be a wonderful gift to the Stones. Thank you all for being so generous and for working so hard.”

  Everyone cheered and clapped their hands.

  Daddy held up his hand. “However, I am sad to report that to rebuild their barn, the Stones will probably need almost twice that much.”

  Boo and bullfrogs. I could not believe that even with all that money, the Stones might need even more.

  “Do you mean they will not be able to rebuild their barn?” I cried.

  “Well,” said Daddy. “They will need to find more funds somewhere. Or maybe more people will show up at the winter festival than we expect. I do not know.”

  I slumped down in my chair. This was terrible.

  “Do not worry, Karen,” said Kristy. “We do not know what will happen. Maybe everyone will buy tons of refreshments. Maybe people from other towns will show up. It could still turn out all right. Try not to get upset.”

  “I will try,” I said. “But if the Stones cannot rebuild their barn, and Mary Anne’s daddy cannot keep the animals in his barn, then the Stones might lose Ollie forever.”

  Let the Festival Begin!

  “I thought today would never come!” I told Moosie the following Sunday morning. (Moosie is my stuffed cat.)

  Today was the day of the winter festival. It would not start until three o’clock in the afternoon, but I had something else very important to do today. I cannot tell you what it was (yet), but I will give you two hints: It was an art project, and it was for Hannie and Nancy.

  * * *

  My whole big-house family arrived early at the Stones’ farm. Mr. and Mrs. Stone were waiting for us.

  “We are so excited,” said Mrs. Stone. “This is going to be so much fun.”

  “Maybe we should do this every year,” said Mr. Stone. “Whether our barn burns down or not.” He laughed.

  There were all sorts of last-minute details that I had to take care of. Because I had thought up the winter festival, it was up to me to make sure everything was perfect. This is what I had to do:

  1) Check all the booths to make sure they were ready. (They were.)

  2) See if the pond was ready for ice-skating. (It was.)

  3) Check to make sure Kristy was selling tickets at the gate. (She was.)

  Finally I looked over the snowman-building area. It was marked with a big poster. Good. So was the ice-sculpting place. And a bunch of gigundo blocks of ice were standing around. People would use hammers and chisels to make sculptures out of the ice. They would be beautiful when they were done.

  “Karen!” Elizabeth called. “People are starting to arrive.”

  I ran to the entrance gate. One of my jobs was to greet people as they arrived. (I had given myself this job. I knew I would be good at it.)

  “Hello, hello!” I called. Guess what. The very first people to arrive were my teacher, Ms. Colman, her husband, Mr. Simmons, and their baby daughter, Jane. “Welcome to the winter festival!” I said.

  “Thank you,” said Ms. Colman and Mr. Simmons. (Jane did not say thank you. She is just a baby. She does not talk yet.)

  “Make yourself at home,” I said, waving my hand toward the Stones’ farm. “There is plenty of fun to be had.” I had read that phrase in a book. I thought it sounded good.

  “All right, we will,” said Mr. Simmons.

  “Be sure to have some refreshments,” I reminded them. I put my hand to one side of my mouth. “They cost extra,” I whispered.

  “I understand,” said Mr. Simmons.

  They smiled at me and headed toward the booths. I wanted to see what they would do first, but I could not, because more people were arriving.

  “Hello, hello!” I cried. “Welcome to the winter festival! Please come in. There is plenty of fun to be had!”

  * * *

  I greeted people until I felt I was about to drop. My voice was hoarse from talking so much. I felt hungry and thirsty. Mrs. Stone said she would be happy to greet people for awhile.

  I bought a cup of hot apple cider with my own money. It was another way to help the Stones, and the cider felt so good going down! After a cup of delicious soup, I ate two doughnuts for dessert. Then I felt much better. I was ready to put my plan into action.

  First I found Kristy. She was taking a break from selling tickets. “Hundreds of people have come, Karen,” she said happily.

  “The more, the merrier,” I said. “Kristy, I need your help for a moment.”

  I told Kristy what I needed her to do.

  “That is a great idea, Karen,” said Kristy. “I know Hannie and Nancy will really like that gift.”

  “Thank you,” I said. “Then I will see you later, okay? I will give you a signal.”

  “Okay,” said Kristy.

  I looked around the Stones’ farm. It was starting to get dark. There were people everywhere. The good news was that it looked like our winter festival would be a huge success. The bad news was that even if it were a huge success, it still might not be good enough.

  Snowmen

  At twilight Charlie organized the first sleigh ride. (Twilight is when it is not exactly day, and not exactly night. Twilight does not last very long.) The sleigh could hold four people besides the driver. A family with two children was first in line. Charlie seated them in the sleigh and covered their laps with blankets. Then he climbed into the driver’s seat and picked up the reins.

  “Hi, General Sherman!” he said. “Giddyup!” General Sherman started off, pulling the sleigh easily over the hard-packed snow.

  Hannie and Nancy were standing next to me.

  “I cannot wait until it is my turn,” said Nancy.

  “Me neither,” I said.

  “But first there is the snowman-building contest,” said Hannie. “And I have signed us up for it.”

  * * *

  The contest was taking place in a small open field behind the burned-down barn. Since it was now dark, Mr. Stone turned on the floodlights that had been set up all over the farm.

  Besides us, Bobby Gianelli and Chris Lamar from Ms. Colman’s class had signed up for the contest. And so had Claudia, Kristy’s friend. Several grown-ups had signed up also.

  “Places, everyone,” called Mr. Stone. He and Mrs. Stone were going to be the judges.

  We ran to a nice open spot where the snow was very deep. The three of us had decided to build a large snowbunny. First we rolled a gigundo ball of snow for the bottom. Then a medium-size ball for the middle. Hannie and I lifted it into place. Then we made a smaller ball for the bunny’s head. Now the snowbunny was almost as tall as we were.

  The ears were difficult. It was hard to pack snow into a long, pointy shape. We did the best we could, but they did not really look much like a bunny’s ears. (I should know. I used to have a bunny. Her name was Princess Cleopatra.)

  We made whiskers out of small twigs. Nancy found two rocks for the eyes and one for the nose. There! Our bunny was complete.

  “This is a great snowbunny,” Nancy said.

  “It is a terrific snowbunny,” I said. “And it is the only one.”

  We had to wait for everyone to finish before the judges gave out ribbons.

  One man had made a snow house. Bobby and Chris had made the biggest snowman they could. He looked just like Frosty the Snowman. Claudia had made a very fancy snowwoman. She was wearing snow pearls around her neck. Someone else had made a snowfrog. Another team had made a beautiful snow angel. (I liked that one the best. After our bunny, I mean.)

  Mr. and Mrs. Stone looked at each snow sculpture. Hannie and Nancy and I held hands. I felt nervous but excited. I love contests! Other people came to watch the judging. I saw Kristy standing with her camera. I winked at her, and she winked back.

  Well, the first-prize blue ribbon went to the beautiful snow angel. The second-prize red ribbon went to … the Three Musketeers! And Claudia won third prize with her snowwoman.

  �
�Yes!” Hannie cried.

  Nancy and I jumped up and down and hugged each other.

  The three of us held on to the ribbon and stood in front of our snowbunny while Kristy took our picture.

  Kristy said, “Say macaroni and —”

  “Cheese!” we shouted. Click.

  We decided to have hot cider to celebrate. Then Daddy announced that it was time for the ice-sculpting contest.

  “Let’s hurry!” I said.

  Jack Frost

  The ice-sculpting contest was held in the small barn. Inside several very large blocks of ice were set on stands. Hannie and Nancy and I found good places to sit (on a hay bale) and we settled in to watch.

  Only grown-ups had signed up for this. It is harder than making a snowman. Each person had a small hammer and some chisels. Carefully they set the chisels against their huge blocks of ice and chipped away. It took a long time.

  Outside, in the dark, tiny white lights lit Charlie’s way through the woods. I kept hearing the jingling jingle bells on the sleigh. They sounded loud when Charlie pulled up to get more people, and then they faded as he drove away. Everywhere people were laughing and eating and playing in the snow. I was having a good time too, but I could not help worrying about whether the Stones would be able to rebuild their barn.

  “There you are,” said Kristy. She sat down next to us. “Wow, look at that one.” She pointed to one ice sculpture.

  I nodded. “I think he will win,” I said.

  The man in front of us was carving a statue of Jack Frost. It looked like a small elf with a pointed hat and a little beard. His shoes were curled up at the toes. It was amazing.

  Several people had already dropped out of the contest because they had broken their ice into little bits by mistake. Only a few people were left.

  “Kristy,” I whispered in her ear.

  She leaned down.

  “What if the Stones cannot rebuild their barn?” I said softly. “They will have to sell their animals. Maybe they will move away forever. They will be sad. And we will never have farm camp again.”