Karen's School Trip by Ann M. Martin
For Sherry
Contents
Title Page
Dedication
1 Lions and Tigers and Bears
2 My Little House
3 A Trip to the Zoo
4 Capybaras
5 Mrs. Hoffman
6 The Bad Dream
7 Fever
8 The Stay-at-Home Day
9 The Horrible, Rotten Weekend
10 The Mean, Green Bug
11 I’m Back!
12 The Great Animal Fact Hunt
13 Off to the Zoo
14 The Wheels on the Bus
15 The Kinkajou
16 Karen’s Alligator
17 The Sea Lion
18 Ms. Colman Is Missing
19 “We’re Famous!”
20 The Best Trip Ever
About the Author
Also Available
Copyright
Lions and Tigers and Bears
“Who can tell me the names of some wild animals?” asked Ms. Colman. (Ms. Colman is my second-grade teacher here at Stoneybrook Academy. She is so, so nice.)
Pamela Harding raised her hand. “Elephants,” she said.
Bobby Gianelli raised his hand. “Kangaroos,” he said.
I raised my hand. “Lions and tigers and bears,” I said. “Like in The Wizard of Oz.”
I am Karen Brewer. I am seven years old. I am the youngest kid in Ms. Colman’s room. But I do not care. I have lots of friends in my class. My two best friends are even in my class. (I am gigundoly lucky.) My best friends are Hannie Papadakis and Nancy Dawes. Pamela Harding and Bobby Gianelli are not my best friends. In fact, Pamela is my best enemy. Bobby is okay, I guess. His best friend is Ricky Torres, and Ricky is my pretend husband. We got married on the playground one time.
“Very good,” said Ms. Colman. “Who knows what a wild animal is?”
“A jungle animal?” suggested Hannie.
I turned around and smiled at her. (Hannie and Nancy get to sit next to each other in the back row. I have to sit in the front row because I wear glasses.)
“A jungle animal is wild,” agreed Ms. Colman. “But what makes him wild? Why is he wild?”
I heard Bobby whisper, “Because he is a party animal, get it?” But I did not laugh, since I love my teacher.
Nobody could answer Ms. Colman’s question, so she said, “Is a farm animal wild?”
“No!” cried my friends and I.
“Why not?”
I remembered to raise my hand again. “Because someone feeds it?” I said.
“Terrific!” exclaimed Ms. Colman. “People take care of farm animals. An animal that is cared for by people is called a domestic animal. A wild animal lives on its own.”
In science class, we had been learning about animals. Now we were going to learn about wild animals. That sounded like fun. Ms. Colman began to pass around some worksheets. Before Ricky Torres had even gotten one, he raised his hand.
“Yes, Ricky?” said Ms. Colman.
“I don’t feel well,” he replied.
I glanced at Ricky. He sits next to me. This is because he wears glasses, too. (All glasses-wearers have to sit in the first row. I think that is a rule.) Ricky had been very quiet that day. Usually, I have to poke him and tell him to stop talking. But not on that day. Ricky just sat at his desk, resting his chin on his hand.
I jumped away from him in case he was going to throw up.
“Does your tummy hurt?” asked Ms. Colman. (She must have been afraid of throw up, too.)
Ricky shook his head. “No. I feel hot.”
Ms. Colman rested her hand on his forehead. “I think you have a fever,” she said.
A fever. Well, that was interesting.
“Karen, would you please walk Ricky to the nurse’s office?” asked Ms. Colman.
“Sure!” I cried. “Come on, Ricky.” I led him down the hall and into the nurse’s office. (The nurse’s office always smells funny. So does the nurse, but she is nice.)
Our nurse is named Mrs. Pazden. She let me sit with Ricky while she took his temperature. “One hundred and one!” exclaimed Mrs. Pazden. “I will call your parents. You ought to be home in bed, Ricky. Come lie down on the cot.”
“ ’Bye, Ricky,” I said. “I better go now. I hope you get well soon.”
“ ’Bye, Karen,” replied Ricky. “Thanks.”
We are supposed to walk through the hallways at school. But I did not remember that. I ran all the way back to Ms. Colman’s room. I burst through the door. “Ricky has one hundred and one!” I announced. “Mrs. Pazden wants him to go home.”
“Wow!” cried my classmates. They were as impressed as I was.
My Little House
At home that afternoon, I spread around my news about Ricky. When Nancy Dawes’s mother dropped me at my house I ran right inside. “Mommy! Andrew!” I yelled.
“Indoor voice, honey,” Mommy reminded me. “And we are in the kitchen.”
I lowered my voice. “Guess what,” I said.
“What?” asked Andrew. (He is my little brother. He is not even five yet.)
“Ricky got sick in school today. He had to go home.”
“Did he throw up?” asked Andrew.
“No. He got a fever. Mommy, can I call Kristy and tell her?”
“I suppose so,” said Mommy.
Kristy is thirteen years old. She is my step-sister. She lives in a different house. My family is sort of hard to explain. See, really I have two families. This is because my parents are divorced. A long time ago, Mommy and Daddy were married. That was when they had Andrew and me. Then they decided to get a divorce. They did not love each other anymore. Mommy and Daddy loved Andrew and me a lot, but they did not want to live together. So Mommy moved out of our big house. She took Andrew and me with her. We moved into a little house. (Daddy stayed in the big house. He had grown up there. Both of the houses are here in Stoneybrook, Connecticut.)
After awhile, Mommy and Daddy each got married again. Mommy married Seth. He is my stepfather. He lives with us at my little house. He brought along his cat, Rocky, and his dog, Midgie. I have a pet at the little house, too. She is a rat named Emily Junior.
Daddy married Elizabeth. She is my stepmother. She moved into the big house with Daddy. And she brought along her children — all four of them! Three are boys. My stepbrothers. Sam and Charlie are in high school. David Michael is seven, like me. And Kristy is my stepsister. She babysits. She is a very fun sitter. I just love Kristy.
It is a good thing the big house is so big, because more people live in it. Daddy and Elizabeth adopted a little girl. She is two and a half. Her name is Emily Michelle. She came from a country called Vietnam. After Emily arrived, Nannie moved in. She is Kristy’s grandmother, which means she is my stepgrandmother. She helps take care of Emily, especially when Daddy and Elizabeth are at work. There are some pets at the big house, too. A cat and a dog and two goldfish. Plus, Andrew and I live there every other weekend. (The rest of the time we live at the little house.)
Sometimes I wish Mommy and Daddy were still married. But mostly I think having two families is okay. You know what? Andrew and I have two of so many things that I call us Andrew Two-Two and Karen Two-Two. (I made up those names after Ms. Colman read a book to my class. The book was called Jacob Two-Two Meets the Hooded Fang.) We have two houses, two mommies, two daddies, two cats, and two dogs. And I have my two best friends. Hannie lives near Daddy’s house. Nancy lives next door to Mommy’s house. I also have two stuffed cats. They look just the same. Moosie stays at the big house. Goosie stays at the little house. I even have two pieces of Tickly, my special blanket. Before, I had only one Tickly, but I kept leaving him at one house or the other. I do not like to fall asleep without Tickly. S
Of course, I do not have two of everything. Even so, I just love having two houses. I like to be at the little house because it is peaceful and quiet. I like to be at the big house because it is noisy and exciting and full of people. Big-house weekends are always wonderful. I get to see Kristy and Emily and Nannie. Sometimes when I am at my little house, I miss my big-house family. Mommy says that is okay. She says it shows I love my big-house family.
That is true.
A Trip to the Zoo
The next day was Tuesday. Seth drove Nancy and me to school.
“I wonder if Ricky will be back today,” I said to Nancy. “If he is not, I should probably make him a get well card. After all, he is my husband.”
“One hundred and one is a very big temperature,” said Nancy. “I bet Ricky will be absent today.”
Nancy was right. Ricky was absent. So was Natalie Springer. (Natalie is another glasses-wearer who sits in the front row.)
“Lucky ducks, lucky ducks,” I sang when I saw the empty desks. I just adore school. But every now and then I like to stay at home and lie in bed and read books. When I am sick Mommy brings me tea and toast and extra pillows. I feel gigundoly cozy. (If I am not too sick.)
“Class, may I have your attention, please?” said Ms. Colman. She was sitting at her desk. I noticed a piece of Kleenex stuffed up her sleeve. Ms. Colman pulled it out and dabbed at her nose. “I have an announcement to make,” she went on. Oh, goody! Ms. Colman’s Surprising Announcements are usually very wonderful. “We have been learning about animals for several weeks now. So I thought we would take a field trip,” she said.
I leaped out of my seat. “Yea!” I cried.
“Karen,” Ms. Colman said patiently, “indoor voice. And please take your seat.” Sniff, sniff. (Ms. Colman blew her nose.)
“Sorry,” I replied. I sat down again.
“One week from Friday, we will go to the zoo. We will visit the Bedford Zoo. It is an hour away from Stoneybrook. We will travel on a bus.”
“Cool! A bus!” exclaimed Bobby.
“A field trip!” cried Leslie Morris.
My classmates were talking away. Nobody raised their hand. Ms. Colman did not get angry. She just blew her nose and waited for us to calm down.
“Gosh,” I said to Bobby. “I hope Ricky and Natalie get well. I do not want them to miss the trip. That would be awful.”
“My mom says the flu is going around,” said Bobby. “I bet Ricky caught it. I bet he gave it to Natalie. She sits right next to him.”
“Well, they have a week and a half to get better,” I said. “That is a long time.”
After lunch, Ms. Colman said, “Class, today we will begin a new project. It will be part of our animal studies.” Sniff, sniff. (A box of Kleenex had appeared on Ms. Colman’s desk. She reached into it a lot.)
I raised my hand. “Ms. Colman, do you have the sniffles?”
“I think so,” she said.
“You should drink lots of orange juice,” I told her. “It is full of vitamin C.”
“Thank you, Karen.”
“You’re welcome. What is our new project?”
“In a few minutes,” Ms. Colman said, “I will give each of you a piece of paper. The paper will be folded up. Inside you will find a secret word. That word will be the name of a wild animal. But it will probably be a type of animal you have never heard of. During the next few days, we will go to the library. I want you to find information about your animal. I want you to find pictures, too. Then you will make a clay model of your animal. You will become sculptors. You may paint your models, too.”
Oh, boy! Way cool!
Ms. Colman handed around the papers. My secret word was capybara. Ms. Colman was right. I had never heard of capybaras. But I wanted to learn about them. I couldn’t wait to be a sculptor.
Capybaras
“Achoo! Achoo!”
“Bless you,” I said.
“Thank you,” replied Ms. Colman.
“Do you have a cold now?” I asked her.
“I guess so. But I do not feel too bad.”
It was Wednesday. Ricky and Natalie were still absent. They were not the only ones. Ms. Colman took attendance. Two more kids did not raise their hands and say, “Here!” when she called their names. They were Pamela Harding and Bobby Gianelli.
Wow. Four people with the flu, I thought. I wondered how long the flu lasts. What if a lot more kids got sick, and on the day of our school trip hardly anybody was in school? Would we still get to go to the zoo?
I decided I better ask Ms. Colman.
I raised my hand.
“Yes?” said my teacher.
“What if a whole lot of kids have the flu next Friday? What if most of the class is absent on the day of our trip?”
“Most of the class?” repeated Ms. Colman. “I suppose we would cancel the trip. We would go some other time.”
“Oh.”
I guess I looked very sad because Ms. Colman said, “We really would go later. I promise. We would probably go in the spring.”
Ms. Colman did not understand. I wanted to go to the zoo on Friday. I could not wait until the spring. I am not very good at waiting.
“Achoo!” Ms. Colman sneezed again. But she didn’t sneeze into a Kleenex like she did yesterday. She sneezed into a very beautiful pink handkerchief. (I can only sneeze into Kleenexes. Mommy and Seth do not like to wash dirty handkerchiefs. Even Seth does not have a handkerchief.)
“Bless you,” I said again.
“Thank you,” Ms. Colman said again.
After lunch, Ms. Colman took my classmates and me to the school library. I simply adore the library. It is full of books and tapes and pictures and neat displays. Our librarian’s name is Mr. Counts. He is funny.
As soon as we reached the library, I ran to Mr. Counts. He was busy putting some books back on a shelf. I tapped his elbow. “Hi, Mr. Counts,” I said.
He turned around. “Hello, Miss Brewer,” he replied.
I laughed. “Guess what. I need to learn about capybaras,” I told him. “They are animals. Wild animals. That is all I know about them.”
Mr. Counts showed me the section of animal books. Some of the books were about farm animals, some were about fish, some were about birds, and some were about cats or dogs or chimps or owls. I looked until I found three books about wild animals. Then I checked for the word capybara in the index. One book did not have any information about my animal, so I put it back. But the next one had a page about capybaras, plus a picture, and the third had a whole chapter on capybaras.
“Guess what,” I said to Ms. Colman. “Now I know what a capybara is. It is the largest rodent in the world. See? Here’s a picture of one. It lives in Central America and South America. I cannot wait to make my statue, even if the capybara is not very cute.”
I checked the two wild animal books out of the library.
Mrs. Hoffman
Here is who was absent from Ms. Colman’s room on Thursday: Ricky, Natalie, Pamela, Bobby, and Leslie Morris. Guess who else was absent from Ms. Colman’s room. Ms. Colman.
When Nancy and I stepped into the classroom that morning, someone was sitting at our teacher’s desk.
She was … a substitute.
I do not like substitutes very much. Mostly, I just like Ms. Colman. But this substitute smiled when Nancy and I came through the doorway. “Hello, Karen. Hello, Nancy,” she said.
“Mrs. Hoffman!” I cried.
Once, Ms. Colman got sick and she had to be absent for more than a month. Mrs. Hoffman took her place. At first I did not like her at all. I called her Mrs. Hoffburger and Hatey Hoffman. But then she showed us what a nice teacher she could be. I had been sorry to say good-bye to her. Now I was happy to see her again.
“How long are you — achoo — going to be here?” I asked.
“I’m — bless you — going to be here for just a day or two,” replied Mrs. Hoffman. She hand
We had a very fun day with Mrs. Hoffman. First, we had reading.
“Ms. Colman said no reading books and no workbooks today,” Mrs. Hoffman told us. (Bullfrogs. I like doing workbook pages.) “She said I should read to you instead. She said you are in the middle of The Twenty-One Balloons.”
Hurray! I took back my “bullfrogs.” Sgorfllub. (To take something back, you have to say it backward.)
“Oh, Mrs. Hoffman!” I called. I waved my hand around. “You will love The Twenty-One — achoo — Balloons. It is the best book!”
“Bless you, Karen,” said Mrs. Hoffman again.
Then she read “Chapter Seven, The Moroccan House of Marvels.” I laughed a lot. And sneezed two more times.
“Bless you, bless you,” said Mrs. Hoffman. She gave me another Kleenex.
Guess what. At recess, Mrs. Hoffman came outside with our class. And she played with us. Even though she is old, she played Mother, May I? and SPUD. She even threw a basketball through the hoop.
In the afternoon, Mrs. Hoffman said, “Now it is science time, class. Ms. Colman said you are studying wild animals.”
“Yes!” I said. “And my secret animal — achoo — is the capybara.”
“Bless you,” said Mrs. Hoffman. “And please remember to raise your hand.”
We worked on our own. First we read about our animals in the books we had checked out of the library. Then we practiced drawing pictures of our animals. After that, Mrs. Hoffman gave us clay. She let us begin our models. I was a sculptor at last.
I had a gigundoly fun time. But I felt bad for Ricky and Natalie and the other kids who were absent. I hoped they got well soon. I especially hoped they got well by next Friday.
“Okay, please clean up, class!” Mrs. Hoffman said later.
We cleaned up our messes. Then we had a surprise. Mrs. Hoffman had brought her guitar to school. We sang “The Big Rock Candy Mountain.” It is our special Mrs. Hoffman song.
The bell rang. “Achoo! Good-bye, Mrs. Hoffman!” I called. “I’m glad you were our substitute today.”