Karen's Kittycat Club

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by Ann M. Martin


  I heard footsteps in the hall. Soon Hannie was sitting on the floor in my room. Then Amanda was next to her. They looked very serious.

  I guess I looked serious, too. I felt serious.

  “I — I have some things to say,” I began. I slid off the bed and sat on the floor with my friends. “I don’t think the Kittycat Club is a very good idea. It isn’t going to work.”

  “Why not?” asked Hannie.

  I told her and Amanda what Kristy had said. I told them what I had thought about — that I had never decided what the club was.

  “I have something else to say,” I added.

  “What?” asked Amanda.

  “I — I’m sorry.”

  There. I had said it. It isn’t easy to say you’re sorry.

  “Sorry about what?” asked Hannie.

  About what? Didn’t she know? “I’m sorry I got mad at you guys. And I’m sorry I made you bring your cats to the meetings. I hope Priscilla’s tail will be okay,” I added.

  “I guess it will be,” replied Amanda. “It looks a little bare. But it isn’t bleeding or anything. Boy, if it were bleeding — ”

  “But it isn’t,” I said quickly. “And now, we have one more thing to do.”

  “We do?” said Hannie.

  I nodded. “Yes. We have to end the club.”

  “Can’t we just leave your room?” asked Amanda. “And go home?”

  Honestly. Amanda has no imagination.

  “I think we should give back our titles,” I said. “We should have a ceremony. Amanda, you should become the un-president, I should become the un-vice-president, and Hannie should become the un-secretary.”

  “But how?” asked Amanda.

  “Let’s think.”

  We thought.

  “I know!” cried Hannie. She whispered in my ear.

  “Great idea,” I said.

  I looked in my dress-up box. I found a silver wand.

  “This is magic,” I told my friends, holding up the wand. “It has secret powers. Now, Amanda, you stand up. Since you’re the president, you’ll make me the un-vice-president. Then you’ll make Hannie the un-secretary. You’ll say, um, ’Secret powers, do your tricks.’ ”

  “But what about me? Who will make me the un-president?” asked Amanda.

  “Hmm.” I thought about that. Then I said, “You can do it. You’re the president. You can make yourself the un-president.”

  “Okay,” said Amanda. She touched me, then Hannie, then herself with the silver wand.

  We were un-club members.

  The Kittycat Club was over.

  Sad, Glad

  Hannie and Amanda left for the second time that day. I sat in my room. I was alone except for Moosie, Tickly, my nineteen stuffed animals, and my seven dolls.

  “Blah, blah, blah. Blechh, blechh, blechh,” I said grumpily.

  I looked at myself in the mirror. I pulled the corners of my mouth down. I tried to make tears come out of my eyes. Instead, I found that if I rubbed the top of my nose, I could make myself sneeze.

  “Achoo! Achoo!”

  “Karen? Are you getting a cold?” called Kristy.

  “No.” I stopped rubbing my nose. If I kept on sneezing, someone might make me take medicine.

  I looked in the mirror again. I tried to think of a really sad song. It was hard. Most of the sad ones I know are for big people. One is about feelings. It goes, “Feelings. Woe-woe-woe feelings.” The other one has better words. It goes, “Memories, like the corners of my eyes. Misty watercolor memories of the way we were.” (Or something like that.)

  “Oh, that is so sad,” I told Moosie. “I’m not sure what it means, but it does seem awfully sad. It’s all about losing something. Just like that other song. The one that goes, ‘Does your chewing gum lose its flavor on the bedpost overnight?’ ”

  I was nearly in tears. Imagine losing the flavor of your chewing gum.

  “Oh, Moosie, Moosie, Moosie,” I said.

  I sat on my bed and held Moosie in my arms. “Hush-a-bye, baby,” I sang to him, “on the treetop! When the wind blows the cradle will rock; When the bough breaks the cradle will fall; Down will come baby, bough, cradle, and all.” I set Moosie on the bed. “Sorry, Moosie, that was an awful song, a sad song. Think about it. The cradle falls, with the baby in it.”

  I turned Moosie upside down so that his smile was going in the wrong direction. “There,” I said, “you look awfully sad. Just like I feel.”

  Sitting next to Moosie was my doll, Amelia Jane. I turned her upside down, too. Then my stuffed giraffe, my stuffed monkey, Tessie the talking doll, and a few more.

  I was about halfway finished when I stopped to see how my bed looked.

  It looked funny. I began to laugh. Half of my dolls and animals were upside down and pouting. The other half were rightside up and smiling.

  I couldn’t stop laughing. This was one of the silliest things I’d ever done. Having fun sure was a lot better than having a club…. Wait a sec. Hadn’t Kristy said that some clubs were for fun? For playing tennis or something?

  I began to smile. I turned the upside-down animals rightside up.

  Fun …

  Did I dare to start another club? Would another club work? I didn’t know. But I decided that it was worth finding out about.

  Karen and Nancy

  I almost ran over to Hannie’s house. I was going to say, “I have a great idea for another club. Want to help me start it?”

  But I didn’t go. I was sure Hannie was tired of my clubs. Besides, there was some-one else who would want to help me start a new club. And it was time to call that person.

  I went into our kitchen. Sam was there. He was eating a sandwich. I didn’t want to make the phone call in front of Sam.

  I went into the family room. David Michael and Andrew were there. They were watching a scary movie on TV. I didn’t want to make the call in front of David Michael and Andrew, either.

  “Elizabeth!” I called.

  “I’m in the living room,” she answered.

  “Elizabeth,” I said, when I had found her, “may I please use the phone in your bedroom? I need to make a private call.”

  Elizabeth said I could use the phone.

  I ran upstairs to Daddy and Elizabeth’s room. I closed the door. Then I lay across the bed and picked up the phone. I dialed Nancy’s number.

  Nancy answered herself. This is what she said: “Hello, this is Nancy Dawes speaking. Who is this, please?” Her parents tell her to do that, but she does not always remember.

  I giggled. “This is Karen Brewer speaking. Is this really Nancy Dawes?”

  Nancy laughed. “It’s the one and only famous Nancy Dawes.”

  “Look, Nancy — ” I began.

  “Look at what? I don’t see anything.”

  “Nancy, stop. I have to say some things, and they’re really important.”

  “Okay.” Nancy stopped laughing.

  “Well, first of all, I’m — ” (here we go again) “ — I’m sorry. I’m really sorry I wouldn’t let you be in the Kittycat Club. I wasn’t trying to be mean.”

  “But why did you keep telling me I had to have a cat? I could cat-sit without a cat.”

  “I know. I just wasn’t thinking, I guess.”

  “Does this mean I can be in the club?” asked Nancy. She sounded very excited.

  “I wish it did, but the Kittycat Club is over.”

  “It’s over?”

  “Yes.” I told Nancy what had happened.

  “Boo,” she said.

  “But wait. Then I got this other idea,” I went on. “See, Kristy told me there are all kinds of clubs. And she said some clubs are just for fun. And I still want to have a club. But I want a club that anyone can join. And I want a club with no rules and no presidents.”

  “That sounds good,” said Nancy.

  “Would you help me start a club like that?” I asked. “We wouldn’t be in charge or anything. We would just start the club. And then be in i
t.”

  “Sure I’ll help!” cried Nancy.

  “What kind of club will it be?” I asked.

  “You mean our fun club?”

  “That’s it!” I exclaimed. “That’s what it will be! The Fun Club!”

  “I like that,” said Nancy.

  “And we can hold meetings at my houses. The big house or the little house. Wherever I am.”

  “And anyone can come,” added Nancy. “Whenever they want.”

  “And we’ll play and have fun. That’s all we’ll do.”

  “We’ll tell everyone at school about it!” said Nancy.

  “Right,” I replied. “Boy, how are we ever going to wait until Monday?”

  The Fun Club

  “Do you think anyone will come? Do you think anyone will come?”

  “Karen,” replied my mother. I had asked her this question a lot of times. She was getting tired of hearing it. “Yes. I think your friends will come.”

  It was Tuesday. The day before, Nancy and I had told practically everyone in school about the Fun Club. Now I was waiting to see if anyone would come. It was three-thirty. The Fun Club was supposed to start at four.

  “What’s your Fun Club going to do?” asked Andrew.

  He stood next to me at the front door of the little house. We were watching to see if anyone would come early.

  “Play,” I told him.

  “Can I play, too?” he asked.

  I almost said, “No. You’re too little.” Then I remembered the rules. Anyone can come to the Fun Club. “Sure,” I said. “If you want.”

  “Goody,” replied Andrew.

  At a quarter to four, the doorbell rang. There was Nancy. “I’m here!” she announced.

  Five minutes later, the bell rang again. There were Hannie and Amanda. “We’re here!” they said.

  The doorbell rang again and again. Four more girls from school came: Heather, Nina, Kim, and Vicky.

  I counted the people in the Fun Club.

  “Nine!” I exclaimed. “Eight girls plus Andrew.”

  “Yuck!” said Andrew. “Eight girls. Forget it. I don’t want to be in this club.” He ran to his room.

  “Well, the rest of us are going to have fun,” I said. “Right?”

  “Right!”

  “What do you want to do first?” I asked.

  “Put on a play,” said Nancy.

  So we went into the rec room, where we would have plenty of space. We performed “Cinderella.” We invited Andrew to come watch, but he stayed in his room. Mommy watched by herself.

  Then Mommy said it would be okay to make a mess in the kitchen, so we got out newspaper and flour and water, and I found some balloons. We made heads for puppets. We decided that at the next club meeting, we could paint the heads. And at the next meeting, we could make bodies. My puppet was going to be a present for Andrew.

  The girls in the Fun Club cleaned up the kitchen. Then we went back to the rec room. We lay on the floor on our stomachs.

  “Let’s tell jokes,” said Vicky.

  “I know a good one,” I said. “What did Tarzan say when he saw the elephants coming?”

  “What?” asked Heather.

  “He said, ‘Here come the elephants.’ ” (My friends groaned.) “But,” I went on, “what did he say when he saw them coming wearing sunglasses?”

  “What?” asked Heather again.

  “Nothing. He didn’t recognize them!”

  We were all giggling. We told some more jokes. When we ran out of jokes, we sang songs. And then my friends’ parents began to arrive. The first meeting of the Fun Club was over.

  “Good-bye! Good-bye!” I called as every-one left. At last, only Nancy and I were standing at the front door.

  “I think the Fun Club will work,” I said. “I really do. I’ll call Kristy and tell her.”

  Nancy smiled. “Good-bye, Kittycat Club,” she said.

  And I replied, “Hello, Fun Club!”

  About the Author

  ANN M. MARTIN is the acclaimed and bestselling author of a number of novels and series, including Belle Teal, A Corner of the Universe (a Newbery Honor book), A Dog’s Life, Here Today, P.S. Longer Letter Later (written with Paula Danziger), the Family Tree series, the Doll People series (written with Laura Godwin), the Main Street series, and the generation-defining series The Baby-sitters Club. She lives in New York.

  Copyright © 1989 by Ann M. Martin

  All rights reserved. Published by Scholastic Inc., Publishers since 1920. SCHOLASTIC, BABY-SITTERS LITTLE SISTER, and associated logos are trademarks and/or registered trademarks of Scholastic Inc.

  The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

  All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this publication may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher. For information regarding permission, write to Scholastic Inc., Attention: Permissions Department, 557 Broadway, New York, NY 10012.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  First edition, 1989

  e-ISBN 978-1-338-04448-5

 

 

 


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