by Judy Blume
“What did you think about the ending?”
“It was all right.”
“Were you surprised by it?”
“A little,” I said. I could tell that Mrs. Singer knew I hadn’t read the book. Just as the bell rang she handed me my book report. I got a D—my first bad mark in school.
I could feel my face turn red as I walked to the back of the room to get my coat. Debbie waited for me at her desk. I picked up my books and marched out into the hall. Debbie called, “Good-by, Mrs. Singer,” as she followed me.
Mrs. Singer called back, “Good-by, girls.”
I didn’t answer her.
When we were out of the building Debbie asked, “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing!”
“What’d Mrs. Singer want to see you for?”
“Don’t mention that witch’s name! I hate her!”
“What’d she do?”
“Gave me a D on my book report!”
“She did?”
“Yes. There’s something about me that Mrs. Singer can’t stand. This proves it!”
“She hardly ever gives out D’s for book reports,” Debbie said, “unless she thinks you didn’t read the book.”
I glared at Debbie, then I pulled my scarf up around my face. The wind was howling and it was really cold. We hurried along not saying anything for a while.
We only had one more block to go when Debbie said, “I heard about your parents … and I’m sorry.”
“Heard what?” I asked, biting my lip.
“You know.”
“Know what?”
“Oh, come on, Karen. That your parents are getting a divorce.”
Well, there it was. Out in the open. But not the way I’d planned it. I was the one who was going to tell Debbie. And she was the one who was going to make me feel better. “Who told you?” I asked.
“Your aunt met my mother in Food Town and she told her.”
“Oh,” I said. I always knew Aunt Ruth had a big mouth. It must have to do with her rabbit teeth. She’s just like Amy.
“How come you didn’t tell me?” Debbie asked when we got to the church.
“It wasn’t definite.” We went inside and jumped around a little to get warm. Then we hung up our coats.
“What’s it like?” Debbie asked.
“What do you mean?”
“What’s it feel like?”
How could she ask such a dumb question! “How do you think it feels?” I said, running for the bathroom.
“Hey, Karen … wait up!” Debbie caught me before I got inside. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know it would be so bad.”
“Well, it is.”
“Are they going to have a fight over you and Jeff and Amy?”
“What kind of fight?”
“You know … about who gets the kids.”
“No. We stay with our mother.”
“Doesn’t your father want you?”
“I don’t know. He said we’ll live with our mother.” Now I was getting all mixed up. Why did she ask if Daddy wanted us? Did Aunt Ruth know something else? Did she tell Mrs. Bartell something that Debbie knows? Oh … I hate everybody! I must have been crazy to think Debbie could cheer me up.
Nine
I have only one grandparent and that’s Daddy’s father. We call him Garfa because Jeff couldn’t say “Grandpa” when he was a baby. When you are twelve you feel pretty stupid calling somebody Garfa, especially in public. So whenever I talk about him in school or to my friends I say “my grandfather.” Only Debbie knows he is Garfa.
Garfa started Newman’s furniture store when he was young, in the olden days. Daddy took it over thirteen years ago when Grandma died and Garfa retired. I never knew my grandmother but everybody says I look like her. I’ve seen some pictures though and I don’t think there is any resemblance between us at all. But you can’t argue about something like that with your family. Once they make up their minds that you look like somebody special, that’s it.
Garfa lives in Las Vegas. The dry climate is supposed to be good for his health. But I have heard that he likes gambling. This is not something that the family talks about much. Last year Garfa got married again. His new wife’s name is Mattie and she is sixty-five years old. Imagine getting married when you are sixty-five!
Garfa and Mattie visited us over the summer. The only thing wrong with Mattie is she doesn’t like cats. She more than doesn’t like them—she is terrified of them. So Debbie kept Mew at her house for two whole weeks.
I just found out that Garfa is going to pay us a visit this weekend, but Mattie is staying home in Las Vegas. Daddy called to tell him about the divorce, which is why he is coming.
On Saturday, Garfa came into our house alone. Daddy just dropped him off. The first thing Garfa said after he kissed us and gave us the once-over was, “Well, Ellie, there hasn’t ever been a divorce in our family. Not even way back. When the Newmans get married they get married for keeps. Or until one of them dies.”
My mother didn’t say anything. She just shook her head. I didn’t think Garfa should discuss the divorce in front of Amy. But of course he didn’t know she was so afraid at night.
“Listen, Ellie … everybody has problems,” Garfa said. “Even me and Mattie have problems. But we’re willing to work them out. That’s what you have to do. Work out your problems with Bill.”
“We can’t,” my mother said.
“Dammit, Ellie! Don’t give me that! Of course you can. That’s why I came. I want you and Bill to get away for a little while. All you need is a vacation. And it’s on me.”
“Oh, Garfa …” Mom said. “Thank you for trying but it’s just no use. A vacation isn’t going to solve anything. Don’t you see …” Mom ran upstairs.
Later, after Daddy picked up Garfa, my mother drove downtown to get a box of Kentucky Fried Chicken for supper. Daddy can’t stand that stuff. Well, now he’ll never have to eat it.
I set the table while Mom cut up the salad. I didn’t put out our regular paper napkins. I went into the den and came back with some of the cocktail napkins that say Ellie and Bill. I folded them up and put one at each place.
My mother called Jeff and Amy for supper. She didn’t see the napkins until we were all seated. Then she looked at me and said, “I don’t think this is very funny, Karen.”
“I wasn’t trying to be funny,” I said.
“Then why did you use these?”
“Because there isn’t going to be any more Ellie and Bill and I thought we might as well use them up now.”
Mom collected the napkins and mashed them into a ball. She got up from the table and threw them away. “Where’s the rest of the box?” she asked me.
“In the den, by the bar.”
“Okay … after dinner get it and put it in the garbage.”
“Boy, are you stupid!” Jeff whispered to me.
My mother didn’t eat any chicken. I don’t think she’s been eating anything lately. She is getting very skinny. If she is so miserable without Daddy and he is so miserable away from us then why are they getting divorced? I don’t understand.
On Sunday night Daddy took us out to dinner. We went to The Towers Steak House, which is my all-time favorite restaurant. I have never eaten out as much as in the week my parents have been separated.
During dinner Garfa tried to persuade Daddy to take a vacation with Mom. But it didn’t work. Daddy said that was out of the question.
I could see how disappointed Garfa was at not being able to get my parents back together, so when we were alone for a minute I said, “Don’t worry, Garfa.” I thought of telling him about that TV show where the little boy got kidnapped. But I didn’t. Because those things never happen in real life, do they?
“I can’t help it, Karen,” Garfa said. “I was so sure I’d be able to straighten everything out.”
“Do you think I should try too?” I asked.
Garfa smiled at me. “It can’t hurt.”
Before he flew home
to Las Vegas, Garfa told me to keep him posted on whatever was going on. “You’re the most dependable person in this family, Karen. You’re just like your Grandmother Newman. And you know something? You look more like her every time I see you.”
“Oh, Garfa!” was all I could think to say.
Ten
Petey Mansfield seems to have moved into our house. He is Jeff’s new best friend. They’re always locked up inside Jeff’s hideaway.
I don’t know if Petey Mansfield is normal or not. He doesn’t talk at all. Sometimes if you ask him a question he’ll grunt at you, but otherwise, forget it. How does he manage in school? I wonder. His brother Brian is in my class. He never shuts up. Mrs. Singer is always yelling at him. Maybe that’s why Petey doesn’t talk. Maybe he doesn’t ever get a chance.
Eileen Fenster, who is a girl in my class, says Brian Mansfield likes me. She knows because she spends every afternoon calling up boys. She asks them questions such as “Who do you like in our class?” or “What do you think of Debbie?” or something like that.
Debbie and I went over to Eileen’s a few times. She knows all the boys’ phone numbers by heart. The last time I was there she called up Gary Owens and I listened on the upstairs phone. She said, “Hi Gary. This is Eileen. Listen, Gary … what do you think of Karen?”
And Gary said, “Karen who?”
Imagine him saying that! How many Karens does he know anyway?
So Eileen said, “Karen Newman.”
And Gary said, “Oh, her.”
“Well?” Eileen said.
And then Gary hung up! Why did he go and do that? I’m never going to Eileen’s house again.
Aunt Ruth came over tonight. She was full of advice for my mother because tomorrow is Mom’s first meeting with Mr. Hague, her lawyer.
We were sitting around the kitchen table. Aunt Ruth and Mom were drinking coffee and I was eating a banana. I only like bananas when they are pure yellow, without a spot of brown. That’s why I hardly ever eat them.
Aunt Ruth said, “What are you going to wear tomorrow?”
And Mom said, “I don’t know. What difference does it make?”
Aunt Ruth said, “You want to make a good impression, don’t you? And remember, Ellie, you’ve got to tell him everything, no matter how hard it is for you.”
“I know,” my mother said. “Dan told me the same thing.”
“I wish you’d try to eat a little more, Ellie. You don’t look well.”
“Oh, Ruth …” Mom said.
“I don’t want to interfere, Ellie … I just wish you’d take better care of yourself.”
Aunt Ruth is right. Suppose my mother gets sick? Then who’ll take care of us?
Nobody said anything for a minute. Then Aunt Ruth asked Mom, “Do you remember Henry Farnum?”
“I think so,” Mom said. “Is he the accountant?”
“That’s the one,” Aunt Ruth said. “From West Orange. Dan and I ran into him the other day. You know his wife died last year …”
“No, I didn’t know that,” Mom said.
“Yes … he’s been very lonely. He’s got a beautiful house and nobody in it. His children are both away at college.”
“He ought to move to an apartment,” Mom said.
I got up and threw my banana skin away.
“I’d like you to meet him, Ellie.”
“Oh, please, Ruth … don’t start in on that.”
I sat back down at the table. Start in on what?
“Look, Ellie … that’s the wrong attitude to take. Here I know a really nice man. He’s lonely. So what’s wrong with going out to dinner with him? I’m not saying you’ve got to marry him.”
“Ruth, please! I’m not even divorced yet. I don’t want to think about getting married again.”
“Okay. Fine. But a year from now when Henry Farnum is married to somebody else, don’t come crying to me. And don’t tell me you think Bill is sitting home alone every night!”
“Ruth … not in front of Karen … please.”
Aunt Ruth looked at me. Does she know something? Why doesn’t she just stay home and mind her own business! I hope my mother never goes out with Mr. Henry Farnum or any other man!
On Friday there was no school because of some special teachers’ meeting. Debbie and I decided to go ice-skating. There is a pond in the middle of town, next to the library. When the blue circle is up it means the pond is frozen and safe to skate on.
Debbie’s mother called for me and drove us downtown. I felt funny because Mrs. Bartell knows about my parents. I was scared that she would ask me something and I wouldn’t know what to tell her. But she didn’t mention one word about the divorce. She talked about keeping warm instead. And how she wanted Debbie to wear a few pairs of underpants instead of just one. “That’s the best way to get a kidney infection,” Mrs. Bartell said, “sitting on that cold ice and getting a chill.”
“I promise I won’t sit on the ice,” Debbie said.
I think Mrs. Bartell spends a lot of time worrying about diseases. She dropped us off right in front of the library and we walked down the path to the pond. There was already a bunch of kids there. I saw Eileen Fenster right away. She waved.
I love to ice-skate. I learned by myself when I was nine. That year I got my first shoe skates for Christmas. Debbie is always joking about her ice-skating lessons. She says it took her one whole year just to learn to stand up on the ice.
We were already wearing our skates, so all we had to do was to take the covers off the blades and skate away. I don’t think Debbie was on the pond for two minutes before she fell down. I pulled her up. She started to laugh. “Three years of lessons and I still stink!” she said. Then I started to laugh too. Eileen Fenster skated over to see what was so funny and pretty soon we were all standing there laughing. I had forgotten how good it feels to laugh. From now on I am going to concentrate on laughing at least once a day—even more if I can arrange it.
After an hour I could see why Mrs. Bartell wanted Debbie to wear lots of underpants. She wound up sitting on the ice more than she was standing on it! I skated out to the middle of the pond to practice my figure eights. When I turned around to look for Debbie I saw her standing on the grass talking to Eileen. I waved and called, “Hey, Debbie …” but she didn’t notice. What were they talking about that was so important? Were they telling secrets? Was Eileen saying something bad about me? I skated across to them and said, “What’s up?”
As soon as they saw me they stopped talking. Eileen said, “Oh, nothing. Me and Debbie were just saying it’s fun to have a day off from school.”
I knew that wasn’t the truth. I could tell from their faces.
After Eileen went home I asked Debbie, “What were you talking about before?”
“Nothing,” Debbie said. “Just forget it.”
“I’ll bet it was about me.”
“Okay … so it was.”
“About me and Gary Owens … right?”
“No. About your parents, if you want to hear the truth.”
“My parents?”
“Yes. Eileen just found out they’re getting divorced.”
“Oh.” I took my Chapstick out of my pocket and rubbed some along my bottom lip.
“You can’t keep it a secret,” Debbie said. “Sooner or later everyone is going to know.”
“I never said it was a secret.”
“Well, anyway … that’s what we were talking about.”
“What did Eileen say?”
“Oh, she was just asking me if your mother has a lot of money, that’s all.”
“Money? What’s money got to do with it?”
“I don’t know exactly. But Eileen heard her mother say that she hopes your mother has a good lawyer and plenty of money.”
“I think Mrs. Fenster should mind her own business,” I said.
“Well, so do I! Come on, now … just forget about it.” Debbie made her chimpanzee face. I tried to laugh.
But I spent th
e rest of the day thinking about what Eileen had said. My mother has no money that I know of, unless Aunt Ruth and Uncle Dan are going to give her some. It’s scary to think about my mother with no money to feed us or buy our clothes or anything. Maybe we will eat at Aunt Ruth’s every night. And instead of giving all our outgrown clothes to some poor family someone will give their old clothes to us. I’ve got to talk to somebody about this. Maybe Jeff can explain things to me.
Eleven
Trying to get to talk to Jeff is like banging your head against the wall. You just don’t get anywhere. I’ve been tagging along after him for three days now but he says he’s very busy and I should get lost. I think Petey Mansfield is a bad influence on him. I would tell that to my mother but suppose she says, “Why are you so anxious to have a private talk with Jeff?”
What can I possibly answer without giving everything away?
I have come up with some information, though. From now on my father will be taking us out to dinner every Wednesday night and we will spend Sunday afternoons with him. This is part of something called a separation agreement. Daddy’s lawyer’s name is Mr. Levinson and he specializes in divorces just like Mr. Hague. Their offices are even in the same building in Newark. I wonder if maybe my mother and father will run into each other there.
Divorce is a very complicated thing. I always thought if you wanted one you just got it. But now I know that sometimes you need special reasons and each state has different rules. Uncle Dan explained this to me the other night. When I got into bed I thought of a million questions I should have asked him, like suppose I am sick on a Wednesday and can’t go out to eat. Does that mean I don’t get to see Daddy at all? I have got to talk to Jeff. If it takes me a week I am going to corner him. I will station myself outside the bathroom door when he is inside and I will not move until he comes out. There will be no way he can ignore me.
It didn’t take me a week. On the second night, I sat down cross-legged right in front of the locked bathroom door. I listened as Jeff brushed his teeth and took a shower. When he opened the door he was really surprised to find me there waiting. He had a towel wrapped around himself and his hair was all wet.
