“That’s okay. Hannie and Nancy are my best friends. You know what? I think we should start over. Let’s pretend this is your first day in our class. I will stay in my old seat. And I will be your helper, but only when you really need a helper.”
So Addie and I started over. I did not do every little thing for her. Twice I asked her if she needed help. Once she did and once she did not. At lunchtime, Hannie and Nancy and I went back to our usual seats in the cafeteria. I waited to see where Addie would sit. She sat with us.
When lunch was over, I said, “Addie, do you want help going outside?”
“I just need help getting through the door,” she answered.
So Nancy held the door open, and I pushed Addie through.
“Well, the Three Musketeers are now going to the monkey bars,” I announced.
“Wait, Karen,” said Addie. “What do you and the other kids talk about over there every day?”
“Mostly about Ms. Colman’s fiancé.”
“Ms. Colman is getting married?” asked Addie.
“Yes,” replied Hannie. “To a Mystery Man.”
“We are trying to find out more about him,” explained Nancy.
“Can I come with you?” asked Addie.
“Of course,” I replied.
“Great! I just need a little help getting there.”
That day almost our whole class gathered by the monkey bars. Even the boys were curious about the Mystery Man.
“He could be a great explorer,” said Hank.
“He could be an astronaut,” said Bobby.
“Or even a mail carrier,” said Natalie.
“How will we ever find out?” wondered Leslie.
“Why don’t we ask Ms. Colman if we could invite him to our class?” suggested Addie.
My friends and I looked at each other. Why hadn’t we thought of that? It made much more sense than spying on Ms. Colman.
“That is a great idea!” cried Pamela. “Who should ask her?”
Now we all looked at Addie. “Would you do it?” I said.
“Sure,” replied Addie. “Right after recess is over.”
Friendship
As soon as we were sitting at our desks in Ms. Colman’s room, Addie raised her hand. She did not look nervous at all.
“Yes, Addie?” said our teacher.
“Ms. Colman, we were wondering,” began Addie. “I mean, all of us were wondering.” Addie looked around at my classmates and me.
“Wondering what?” asked Ms. Colman.
“Wondering about the man you are going to marry. Your fiancé.”
“Mr. Simmons,” said Ms. Colman.
“That is who you are marrying?” asked Addie. “Mr. Simmons?”
Ms. Colman nodded. “Mr. Henry Simmons.”
“Well, we decided he is probably very nice,” Addie went on. “And we would like to meet him. Do you think he could come to school one day?”
“Certainly,” said Ms. Colman. She smiled. “Would you like to make an invitation for him? An invitation from all of you?”
“Yes!” we cried.
“All right. Let’s do that now. I will help you. What shall we say?”
I raised my hand. “The invitation should start ‘Dear Mr. Simmons.’ ”
“Okay,” said Ms. Colman. She wrote that on the blackboard. “Then what?”
Ricky raised his hand. “We would like to meet you. Please come visit our class.” Then he added, “As soon as possible.”
Ms. Colman wrote those sentences on the board.
Natalie raised her hand. “Put down ‘We want to know if you are a mail carrier or an explorer or what?’ ”
I raised my hand again. “Ask him if he can come on Friday,” I said. “I do not think we can wait much longer.”
When the invitation was finished, Addie copied it onto a piece of paper. She wrote all the words on one side of the paper. On the other side of the paper we signed our names. Then Ms. Colman gave me some crayons and I colored very beautiful flowers around the borders.
“That is lovely,” said Ms. Colman when I handed the invitation to her. “I will give it to Mr. Simmons after school today.”
Then Ms. Colman collected our stories about pets. She read them to herself while we wrote another composition.
“The title of this composition is Friendship,” said Ms. Colman. “You may write anything you want about friendship — a poem, a story, a play, or an essay.”
Ms. Colman gives us lots of writing work. Luckily, I love to write. And I had plenty to say about friendship. I decided to write an essay.
I wrote: Friendship is being nice to someone because you like her. Friendship is helping someone, but not too much. Friendship is letting someone be herself. A good friend is not bossy. A good friend knows how to listen. You can always tell a secret to a good friend. By Karen Brewer.
When I finished my essay I dedicated it to Addie. I wrote “To Addie From Karen” across the top. Then I showed the paper to Ms. Colman.
“Ms. Colman?” I whispered. “When you are done with this, may I please give it to Addie? I dedicated it to her.”
“Why don’t you give it to her now?” Ms. Colman whispered back.
“Okay. Thanks.”
I walked around to Addie’s chair. I handed her the paper. “This is for you,” I said. “You can have it.”
Addie read my essay. “Thank you, Karen!” she exclaimed.
“Thank you,” I replied.
“For what?”
“For helping us find out about Mr. Henry Simmons. Soon he will not be the Mystery Man.”
Mr. Henry Simmons
On Thursday Ms. Colman said, “Boys and girls, tomorrow Mr. Simmons will visit us. He is going to come in the afternoon. He will stay for half an hour before the end of school. What would you like to do while he’s here?”
“Ask him lots of questions,” said Hannie.
“Make his visit extra special,” I said.
“How shall we make it special?” asked Ms. Colman.
“Let’s have a party!” cried Bobby.
“We will have some refreshments,” said Ms. Colman. “But I do not think we need to have a party.”
“Maybe he would like to see some of our work,” said Pamela.
“Our friendship stories!” I shouted.
“Indoor voice, Karen,” Ms. Colman reminded me. “I think that is a good idea. Who would like to put the stories on the bulletin board?”
Terri and Tammy took the job. (They got to use the stapler.)
The rest of us colored a big sign that said WELCOME, MR. SIMMONS. We each colored one letter. When we finished, we decided we were ready for Mr. Simmons’ visit. We could not wait.
By Friday afternoon the bulletin board was finished. Our welcome sign was hanging over the blackboard. On Ms. Colman’s desk were a box of cookies, a bottle of juice, a stack of napkins, and a stack of cups. Ms. Colman’s chair had been moved to the front of the room. Jannie Gilbert had decorated it with crêpe paper. We were sitting quietly at our desks. We were wearing name tags.
We were ready to meet Mr. Henry Simmons.
When someone knocked on the door to our room, I shrieked.
“He’s here!” I cried.
Ms. Colman opened the door. A man walked into our room. He was very tall. He was wearing a raincoat and a hat.
“Do you think he is an astronaut?” I whispered to Ricky.
Ricky shook his head. “I do not think so.”
“Boys and girls,” said Ms. Colman, “I would like you to meet my fiancé, Henry Simmons. Henry, this is my class.”
“Good afternoon,” said Mr. Henry Simmons. “I am very happy to meet you. I have heard a lot about you. Thank you for your invitation.”
Mr. Simmons took off his coat and hat. He sat in the special chair. Addie wheeled herself over to him. She gave him a paper flower she had made. Then Terri stood up. She gave a speech.
“Welcome,” she said. “We have been very busy writing stories
and essays. Yesterday we wrote about friendship. Now we will read to you.”
Terri, Hank, Pamela, Bobby, and Ricky read their stories. Then I read my essay, the one I had dedicated to Addie. After that, it was time for questions and answers.
Natalie raised her hand. “I do not want to be nosy,” she said to Mr. Henry Simmons, “but what do you do?”
“I am the principal at a high school,” he answered.
A few kids looked a little disappointed. I knew they wanted Mr. Simmons to be something exciting. But a school principal was okay with me.
I raised my hand. “Do you live nearby?” I asked.
“Pretty nearby,” said Mr. Simmons.
“So after you and Ms. Colman get married, you won’t move away?”
“We will not move away. I promise. Ms. Colman will still be your teacher.”
I decided I liked Mr. Henry Simmons. When the bell rang and he had to leave, I was sorry to see him go.
The Good-bye Party
On Saturday morning I woke up in my room at the big house. I was not sleeping in my bed. I was sleeping on one of the cots. Ashley and Grace and I had been trading the bed around.
It was almost time for the Millers to leave. Sunday would be their last day with us. They had to go back to their own house. Ashley and Grace and Berk and Peter needed to start school again. Their house was not as good as new, but at least they could live in it again. Ashley said the repairmen had been working on it all week. She said she was going to get new furniture for her bedroom. She also said she missed her old furniture. She looked a little sad.
“I liked my old furniture,” she told me. “I do not like the way new furniture smells. My old furniture was perfect.”
“You know what?” I said. “I think we should have a party tonight. A going-away party for you and your family.”
“Yeah!” cried Ashley.
“Let’s talk to Kristy,” I said.
Ashley and I talked to Kristy, and Kristy talked to the grown-ups. The grown-ups said we could have a party. They said they would take care of the food if we would take care of the entertainment.
Ashley and Grace and I decided to put on a play. We wrote it ourselves. We called it “Super Girls From Mars.” We made Emily Michelle play an outer-space puppy.
At six o’clock that night the doorbell rang.
“The pizza is here!” I yelled. Everybody else must have been as excited about the party as I was, because no one told me to use my indoor voice. They just raced to the door to get the pizza.
Guess what. Elizabeth and Nannie had set the table in the kitchen and the table in the dining room as if we were going to have a fancy dinner party. We ate the pizza from china plates. We drank milk and soda from goblets.
After dinner, Ashley and Grace and Emily and I put on our play.
“We are proud to present ‘Super Girls From Mars,’ ” I announced.
Grace forgot her lines and Emily’s puppy ears kept falling off, but no one minded. When the play was over, everyone clapped.
After that, all the boys sang a song. (Well, they did not really sing. They just moved their lips while some people on a CD sang.) Then the adults wanted to play charades, but the kids did not. We watched a video and ate popcorn instead.
When the video was over, so was the party. Daddy said it was bedtime.
On Sunday morning I felt sad. I watched Ashley and Grace pack their suitcases. “You know what?” I said. “I am going to miss you.”
“You will?” said Grace. “We will miss you, too.”
“Maybe we could write to each other,” I said. “I like to get mail.”
We decided to be pen pals.
When breakfast was over, the Millers loaded up their car. They climbed inside. Nobody wanted to say good-bye, but we had to anyway.
“Drive safely!” said Daddy.
“Wear your seatbelts!” called Andrew.
“Call us when you get there!” said Elizabeth.
“Good-bye! Good-bye, everyone!” I shouted. “Come again soon!”
“Good-bye, Karen!”
I watched the Millers’ car pull into the street. Then I went inside with my big-house family.
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 © 1993 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.
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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, 1993
e-ISBN 978-1-338-05646-4
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