Karen's Cartwheel

by Ann M. Martin

  For Grace Polywoda

  Contents

  Title Page

  Dedication

  1 The Best

  2 The Best Two-Two

  3 Karen Onstage

  4 Carolina, Eugenia, and Petrolia

  5 Pennies and Nickels

  6 Waiting

  7 Odd Jobs

  8 Dandelions

  9 Karen’s Red Face

  10 Over and Over

  11 Cornelia, Cordelia, and Cecelia

  12 Working for the Witch

  13 Broomsticks

  14 Pretty Please

  15 Weeding, Walking, Sweeping

  16 “I Am Hanging Up on You”

  17 The Witch’s Secret

  18 No More Fighting

  19 Terry, Kerry, and Merry

  20 The Giggles

  About the Author

  Also Available

  Copyright

  The Best

  “And … over you go!” said Miss Donovan.

  “Oof,” I huffed.

  Miss Donovan is my gymnastics teacher. She was helping me turn a cartwheel. I am pretty good at gymnastics. I am the only one in my class who can almost do a back flip on the mat. But I cannot turn a cartwheel. Everyone else can. Even Natalie Springer, who is mostly a klutz.

  When Miss Donovan helped me go over, I bent my waist. My legs flopped. And I had tried really hard. I had done my best. But my best was terrible when I was turning cartwheels. (To make myself feel better, I tried a back flip.)

  I am Karen Brewer. I am seven years old. I adore gymnastics. I adore Miss Donovan, too. And I like the kids in my class. They are Sophie, Gemma, Gregg, Polly, Jannie, and Natalie. Guess what. Jannie and Natalie are also in my class at regular school. We go to Stoneybrook Academy. We are in second grade. Our teacher is Ms. Colman, and she is soooo nice.

  “Boys and girls!” called Miss Donovan. (Really, only one boy is in my gymnastics class. Gregg. But I guess Miss Donovan would have felt funny saying “Boy and girls” or “Girls and boy.”) “We have ten minutes left before class ends. Please use the time to practice. Remember that the invitational team will be chosen soon.”

  I remembered. How could I forget? More than anything else in the world I wanted to be on the invitational gymnastics team. The team is special. It is for really good gymnasts. And only a few kids from each class would be chosen for the team. It was called an invitational team because the teachers invited you to be on it — if you were good enough. You could not try out for the team. You just had to be asked.

  For several weeks the teachers at gymnastics school had been watching the kids in every class. They were observing, Miss Donovan said. Soon they would announce the names of the kids they would invite to join the team. I just had to be one of those kids! The special team got to do cool things. They got to go to meets in other towns, and they rode to the meets on a bus. Sometimes they put on gymnastics shows. I just love being in shows. I thought I would probably be invited to join the special team. I am usually the best at anything I try. I knew I was not Miss Donovan’s best gymnast, though. Plus, I have that cartwheel problem.

  Well, the way to get better is to practice. So I did.

  Gemma and I practiced hard during those last ten minutes. We were still practicing when I looked up and saw …

  “Seth!” I cried.

  “Hi, honey.” Seth waved to me. “I’ll wait here until you are ready.” He sat on a bench in the hall with some parents and baby-sitters.

  “Okay!” I said.

  Gemma and I were using the balance beam. Gemma was walking across it backward. I was spotting her. (That means I was staying with her in case she fell or needed help.)

  When Gemma reached the end, I took my last turn on the beam. Then I ran to Seth. Seth is my stepfather. He had come to drive me home. I mean, to one of my homes. I have two houses. And I call myself Karen Two-Two. This is why.

  The Best Two-Two

  Once, a long time ago, when I was in preschool, I was still a one-one, like most of my friends. I had one family — Mommy, Daddy, me, and my little brother, Andrew — and we lived in one house. Then something happened. Mommy and Daddy got a divorce. They decided they did not want to live together because they did not love each other anymore. So Mommy moved out of the big house where we had been living. (It is the house Daddy grew up in.) She moved to a little house not far away. It is even in the same town, which is Stoneybrook, in the state of Connecticut. Then she got married again. She married Seth. That is how he became my stepfather. Daddy got married again, too. He married Elizabeth, my stepmother.

  Remember I said that Mommy and Daddy did not love each other anymore? That was why they got divorced. But Mommy and Daddy still loved Andrew and me very much. And that is how we got to be two-twos. Mommy and Daddy both wanted us to live with them. So now Andrew and I live with Mommy at the little house most of the time. And we live with Daddy at the big house every other weekend and on some vacations and holidays.

  I am very good at being a two-two.

  Here is who is in my little-house family: Mommy, Seth, Andrew, me, Rocky and Midgie (Seth’s cat and dog), and Emily Junior. Emily is my very own rat.

  Here is who is in my big-house family: Daddy, Elizabeth, Kristy, Charlie, Sam, David Michael, Emily Michelle, Nannie, Shannon, Boo-Boo, Goldfishie, and Crystal Light the Second. Whew! Kristy, Charlie, Sam, and David Michael are Elizabeth’s four kids, so they are my stepsister and stepbrothers. Charlie and Sam go to high school. David Michael is seven, like me (but he is a few months older). And Kristy is thirteen and one of my favorite, favorite people. She baby-sits. She is lots of fun. Emily Michelle is my adopted sister. (I named my rat after her.) Daddy and Elizabeth adopted her from a faraway country called Vietnam. Emily is two and a half. She is very cute, but she does not talk much. Nannie is Elizabeth’s mother. (That makes her my stepgrandmother.) She helps take care of Emily Michelle. Let me see. Oh, yes. The pets. Shannon is David Michael’s puppy. Boo-Boo is Daddy’s cross old cat. And Goldfishie and Crystal Light the Second are the fish that belong to Andrew and me.

  As a two-two I have two families, two houses, two mommies, two daddies, two cats, and two dogs. I also have two best friends. Hannie Papadakis lives near Daddy. Nancy Dawes lives next door to Mommy. (My best friends are also in Ms. Colman’s second-grade class with me.) Plus, I have two bicycles, one at each house. And I have clothes and toys and books at each house. I hardly have to pack anything when I go from one house to the other.

  Of course, I do not have two of everything. I only have one pair of roller skates. And I only have one rat. When I am at Daddy’s, I miss Emily Junior and my little-house family. When I am at Mommy’s, I miss my big-house family. Here is one thing I do not miss. I do not miss Morbidda Destiny. She is the witch who lives next door to Daddy. She is very scary. Luckily, I do not have to see her too often.

  Karen Onstage

  “We’re off to see the mall! The best mall of all!” I sang.

  It was a Saturday, a big-house Saturday. Daddy and Elizabeth had planned a special treat. A new toy store had opened in Washington Mall. They were taking Emily Michelle, David Michael, Andrew, Nancy, Hannie, and me to see it.

  Washington Mall is far away. We had to drive for one half of an hour to get there. But I entertained everybody. I made up new songs like the one about going to see the mall. Also, I told a couple of jokes.

  Finally Daddy turned off the highway. He drove into the parking lot at the mall. Soon we were going inside. Hannie and Nancy and I ran ahead. We call ourselves the Three Musketeers. That is because we are best friends and we are usually together.

  “I love the mall!” exclaimed Hannie.

  “Breathe deeply,” I said. “I can smell popcorn and new shoes and piz
za and ice cream and perfume and the haircutting place.”

  Hannie and Nancy breathed in. “Scrumptious,” said Nancy.

  “Girls, stay with us!” called Daddy.

  My friends and I waited until the others had caught up.

  “Are we going right to the toy store?” I asked. “Or could we get something to eat first? I am an intsy bit hungry.”

  “Me, too,” said Andrew, David Michael, Emily, Hannie, and Nancy.

  “You may each have one snack while we are at the mall,” said Elizabeth.

  Guess what. Each of us wanted a different snack. David Michael wanted a slice of pizza, Andrew wanted an ice-cream cone, Nancy wanted an Orange Julius, Hannie wanted popcorn, Emily wanted M&M’s, and I was hoping to find a place that sold cotton candy.

  “This would be easier,” said Daddy, “if you all wanted to eat the same thing.”

  But we didn’t. Luckily we found a stand that sold everything we wanted. Except cotton candy. I settled for an Orange Julius, like Nancy.

  Here is a great thing about malls. You can walk around and eat your food at the same time. You do not have to sit in a chair until you are finished.

  First we walked to the pet store. We stood outside and watched the puppies in the window. They frisked around and touched their wet noses to everything. One of them fell asleep on his back.

  “Daddy? Can we get a puppy?” I asked.

  “Absolutely not,” he said.

  And Elizabeth added, “What would Shannon think?”

  Next we went to the magic shop. In the window stood a toy magician. Over and over, he pulled a stuffed rabbit out of a top hat.

  “Daddy?” I said.

  “No, we cannot buy any magic tricks.”

  Darn. How did he know I was going to ask for one?

  We were on our way to the toy store when I saw a crowd of people.

  “Hey! What’s going on?” I cried. We hurried over to the people. “I see gymnastics stuff!” I said. “I see a balance beam and a horse and a lot of mats. Oh, and some parallel bars.”

  Eight kids were putting on a gymnastics show. They were just a little older than me. They must be on a special team, I thought. I bet they are on an invitational team. This must be one of the things they get to do.

  I imagined myself on the balance beam, performing in front of the people at the mall. That would be so, so cool. (I simply adore having an audience.) Maybe, I thought, when I am on the invitational team, I will get to perform at malls.

  But first, I remembered, I would have to learn to turn a cartwheel.

  Carolina, Eugenia, and Petrolia

  We watched the gymnastics team until we had finished our snacks. The kids were extra good. They could do roundoffs. They could flip off the beam and land on their feet (not on their bottoms). And they could sail over the horse, and twirl around those bars.

  When our snacks had disappeared, Daddy said, “Time to find the toy store.”

  The new store was called Toy Palace, and it was easy to find. Bunches of balloons were tied in front of it. A clown was walking around. He was juggling apples. A gigundo lion (not a real one) was walking around, too. He smiled at Andrew. He patted Emily on the head. (Emily cried.)

  “I have an idea,” I said to Nancy and Hannie. “When we get inside, let’s walk down every aisle, in order, so we do not miss one single toy.”

  “Okay,” agreed my friends.

  We started at one side of the store. Against the wall were bicycles and tricycles and riding toys. We walked slowly to the end of the aisle. Then we turned down the next one. It was the game aisle. We looked and looked and looked. And we took our time. Daddy and Elizabeth had said we could walk around by ourselves if we promised not to leave the store.

  Nancy and Hannie and I looked at the Lego aisle. We looked at the arts and crafts aisle. We looked at the truck and car aisle and the baby toy aisle and the video game aisle. At last we came to …

  “Dolls!” cried Nancy.

  We were surrounded by dolls. They were stacked up from the beginning of the aisle to the end. Dolls, dolls, dolls.

  “This one walks her very own puppy!” exclaimed Hannie.

  “This one can crawl,” said Nancy.

  “This one comes with dress-ups,” I said.

  We saw bride dolls and princess dolls and doctor dolls and baby dolls. We even saw an astronaut doll. Then I saw a very wonderful doll. She was not a princess or anything. She was just a girl wearing blue jeans. She looked a lot like me.

  “You guys!” I said to Hannie and Nancy.

  “Wow!” said Nancy softly. “Cool.” And Hannie added, “She looks like you. And this one with the brown hair looks kind of like Nancy and me. And here’s one with red hair, and here’s one with black hair.”

  I checked the doll’s price tag. “She does not cost too much,” I said. “Not even fourteen dollars. She is just thirteen ninety-five.”

  “If this one were mine,” said Nancy, “I would name her Carolina.”

  “I would name her Eugenia,” said Hannie.

  “I would name her Petrolia.”

  “You know,” said Nancy, “if each of us bought one of those dolls, we could have triplets. We could call them the Doll Sisters.”

  My eyes grew wide. What a gigundoly terrific idea! “I am going to ask Daddy for money right now!” I cried.

  Guess what. Daddy would not buy those dolls for my friends and me. He said they cost a little too much. But he said that if we earned enough money to buy the Doll Sisters, he would drive Hannie and Nancy and me back to the mall so we could pick them out.

  Hmm.

  “I think we can do that,” said Hannie. We were on our way home. Each of us was holding a free balloon from the clown. Our car looked like a birthday party.

  “Yeah,” agreed Nancy. “We could do that.”

  “And then we could have sleepovers with the Doll Sisters,” I said.

  “We could make clothes for them. Matching clothes,” said Hannie.

  “We could take them on bike rides,” I added. “Awesome. And all we have to do is earn a little over forty dollars.”

  Pennies and Nickels

  As soon as Elizabeth pulled into the driveway at the big house, Nancy and Hannie and I flew out of the car.

  “I have an idea!” I whispered loudly.

  “What is it?” asked Hannie.

  “Shh! I will tell you in a minute. Come to my room.”

  When we were safely in my room, I closed the door.

  “I know where we can get some money,” I said.

  “Where?” asked Nancy and Hannie.

  “We can look for it in our houses. We can look under the couch cushions and under chairs and in cars,” I said. “Any money like that is yours. Finders keepers. Because you don’t know who it really belongs to.”

  “We can go on a treasure hunt!” exclaimed Nancy.

  So we did. We started at Daddy’s house. We started in the den. “People sit in here more than anywhere else in the house,” I told my friends.

  First we crawled around on the floor. We looked under the furniture. And do you know what? Right away I found a nickel! Then we felt around the cushions in the couch and the chairs.

  “Gross,” said Nancy. “All I feel are crumbs. And here’s something sticky.” She pulled it out. “Oh, yuck. I think it’s a piece of gum.”

  “Chewed?” asked Hannie.

  “Nope. Dust covered.”

  But then Hannie found a penny and Nancy found a quarter.

  “Cool!” I cried. “Thirty-one cents!”

  By the time we had looked all over the house, we had found fifty-four cents. (And a pen Kristy had lost, and two of Boo-Boo’s toys.)

  “Let’s go to my house now,” said Hannie.

  “Okay. But first we will empty my piggy bank,” I said.

  Inside it, we found eighty-five cents. Now we had one dollar and thirty-nine cents. We put our money in one of my socks and carried the sock to Hannie’s. Then we searched
all over Hannie’s house. When we had finished we had found eight pennies, three dimes, a nickel, and another quarter.

  “And a nail,” said Hannie.

  “And a dried-up macaroni,” said Nancy.

  “Okay, let’s open my bank!” exclaimed Hannie.

  Hannie’s bank is gigundoly cool. It looks like a big red mouth. When you drop some money through the lips, the bank says, “Mmm. That was yummy!” and, “Please feed me again!” When we emptied it, the bank said, “Don’t forget to feed me soon!”

  Hannie had put forty-eight cents in her lip bank. We added up our money. A dollar thirty-nine plus sixty-eight cents (finders keepers), plus forty-eight cents (lip bank) equals two dollars and fifty-five cents.

  “Not bad,” I said. “Nancy, when you go home, look around your house and in your bank, okay?”

  “Okay,” she replied.

  Nancy telephoned me after dinner. “I found one dollar and twenty cents,” she said proudly. “And I added everything up. We have three seventy-five.”

  “Wow! Now we just have to earn … Let me see.” I figured it out on paper. “Well, we still have to earn thirty-eight dollars and ten cents.”

  “Thirty-eight dollars!” cried Nancy.

  “And ten cents,” I added.

  “Boo.”

  So then we asked for advances on our allowances, but our parents said no.

  Double boo.

  Waiting

  “Guess what, girls and … um, girls and Gregg,” said Miss Donovan.

  “What?” we replied. I stopped halfway across the balance beam. My gymnastics teacher stood in the middle of our room.

  “You can relax a little,” she said with a smile. (I hopped off the beam.) “The judges have finished watching our classes. Now they are deciding who to ask to join the invitational team. When you come to our next class, I will announce the names. I want you to know that I think you all worked hard.”

  I did not know whether to feel happy or sad. I felt partly happy because I could not wait to hear Miss Donovan call my name to tell me I had been asked to join the special team. Soon I would be performing in malls. But I felt partly sad because I was still working on my cartwheels. I had wanted the judges to see my best cartwheels, and I knew they had not. Oh, well. Too late now.