“That was very nice, Karen,” said Elizabeth. “And I appreciate it. Thank you. But Emily is allowed to play in the sink.”
Emily Michelle peeked out from Elizabeth’s shoulder and said, “Meanie-mo!” Then she burst into tears again.
“Okay,” said Elizabeth soothingly. “Karen did not intend to be mean.” She carried Emily into the bathroom and set her back on the stool.
“Pay watah!” said Emily Michelle happily.
I wondered if Santa thought I had been mean too. I hoped not. But maybe he had. I sighed. I took away a couple of the day’s points.
Then, later that afternoon, I was setting the table, as I did every day. David Michael stormed into the dining room and said, “Drop that spoon, Karen!”
I did. It clattered to the floor. “Why?” I asked.
“I am supposed to set the table,” said David Michael. “So far I have not been able to do it even once this week. If you do not stop stealing my chores, I am not going to get my allowance.”
Ohhhh. I had forgotten that David Michael would not get his allowance unless he did all his chores himself.
I handed him the silverware (he picked up the spoon himself) and said, “Here. You may do it. I was not trying to steal your chore.”
“Thanks,” David Michael muttered as he laid down a fork.
Gosh. Two of my good deeds had backfired. That night, I looked at my Karen Chart. I had not meant to be naughty — it had just turned out that way. I was still doing really well, according to the chart.
But I had had some close calls.
Minus, Minus, Minus
“Would you like me to do that for you?” I asked Sam.
Sam looked up. He was polishing the blade of his ice-hockey skate. “No thank you, Karen. It was nice of you to ask, though.”
I know it was, I said to myself. Santa, are you watching?
I went into the kitchen, where Daddy was slicing some radishes for a salad.
“Can I help you with that?” I asked.
“I had better do it,” said Daddy. “This knife is pretty sharp. Thanks for asking.”
“Elizabeth? Do you need me to do anything?” She was bustling around, getting out bowls and spices.
“No thanks, Karen,” said Elizabeth. “It will be easier for me to make this meant loaf myself.”
Hmph. There had to be somebody who needed my help. How was I going to show Santa how good I was if no one ever let me do a good deed?
Just then Elizabeth turned to reach for the salt and practically crashed right into me.
“Karen, your father and I are working in the kitchen,” said Elizabeth. “If you do not have a reason to be in here … ”
“Okay, okay,” I said. “I will get out of your way.” I slumped out of the kitchen and into the living room.
“Nannie?” I asked. “Anything I can do to help?”
Nannie put down the magazine she had been reading. “Trying to make yourself useful, are you, Karen?” she asked.
I nodded.
“Okay, tell you what. We need to clean the house. This weekend we will put up our Christmas decorations, and I want the house looking its best. I will vacuum the dining room while you dust the living room. How does that sound?”
“Great,” I said, giving Nannie a big smile. I was glad that someone was willing to let me do something nice!
I got a feather duster, a dust rag, and a can of furniture polish out of the utility closet. I helped Nannie lug the vacuum into the dining room.
Nannie clicked on the vacuum, which started to roar. I walked back into the living room and began dusting.
I kind of like dusting. It is not as much fun as raking leaves or shoveling snow, but it is definitely better than cleaning the bathtub. I like the lemony, woody smell of furniture polish.
I wiped the two end tables and the coffee table with the dust rag. I polished the bases of all the lamps in the room. I feather-dusted the lamp shades. I straightened the throw pillows and cushions on the sofa and easy chairs.
I found three nickels, two pennies, and a dime underneath the cushions. I decided to give them to charity, even before I remembered about Santa Claus watching me. Score another point for Karen!
I gazed around the living room. It looked spotless. No dust on any surfaces.
Then I realized there was a surface I could not see — the top of the mantel over the fireplace. (The big house has several gigundo old marble mantelpieces.) This mantel was where we hung our stockings with care. When Santa was filling stockings, he would be sure to notice if the mantel was dirty. I did not want him to think the Brewer-Thomases were slobs.
I reached up on tiptoe and started to sweep back and forth across the top of the mantel with the feather duster. I could not really see what I was doing, but I hoped I was getting most of the dust.
Suddenly I heard — crash!
Uh-oh. Glass and water had showered down on the hearth, and several roses were scattered on the floor.
I had broken a glass vase.
And then I had a terrible thought. I remembered Nannie talking about an antique crystal vase that she had inherited from her grandmother. I knew it was special and could not be replaced.
I almost burst into tears. I had smashed Nannie’s antique crystal vase! I did not know what to do. The vacuum was still roaring in the dining room. I did not think anyone had heard the crash when the vase fell.
What to do, what to do? I was not thinking straight. I needed time to figure out how to tell Nannie that I had destroyed her grandmother’s vase.
I dashed to the garage, where the newspapers were waiting to be recycled. I grabbed a couple of sections. I raced back to the living room and carefully (very carefully, so I did not cut myself on broken glass) scooped the glass and roses onto a section of newspaper. I blotted up the water with my dust cloth.
Then I carefully carried the whole mess upstairs to my room. When I got there, I did not know what to do with it. So I shoved it under my bed.
I would deal with it later.
A Reindeer!
Later that night I took out my Karen Chart. I thought of all the good things I had done that day:
I had helped Nannie clean the house.
I had said “please,” “thank you,” and “you’re welcome” every time I should have.
I had picked up Emily Michelle and comforted her when she had fallen down.
I had helped Andrew clean the playroom even though I had not made the mess in there.
Then I listed the bad things I had done:
I had broken Nannie’s vase and hidden the evidence.
On the bright side, my good things out-numbered my bad things. But all my good things were little, and my one bad thing was a whopper.
My chart now looked like this:
How could I make up for what I had done? I could not fix the vase — it was in a million pieces. And I could not buy Nannie a vase to replace it.
Maybe I could buy her a vase that would be almost as nice. But that would cost more money than I had, I was sure. Vases were expensive, weren’t they? And if I spent all my money on a new vase, how would I buy Christmas gifts for everyone else? I was stuck.
I looked at my chart one last time, then put it back in my desk drawer. I climbed into bed and turned out the light. But I could not stop thinking about my chart. There were a lot of naughty points on it now. So where did I stand with Santa?
I lay awake in bed, tossing and turning.
What if no one found out about the broken vase until after Christmas? What if Santa did not find out either? Well, I knew that was impossible. Nannie would notice that her vase was missing. And Santa always knows when you have been good or bad. He knows when you are sleeping. He even knows when you are awake way past your bedtime, like I was at that moment.
I started to wonder whether I was going to get any Christmas presents at all. Santa knew I had been a lot more naughty than nice. I thought so much that I gave myself a stomachache. I sat up and pushed
aside the curtain to my window. I loved seeing the moonlight on the snow outside.
There was a line of trees at the back of the big-house yard. They looked beautiful in the moonlight with the snow on their branches. Then I frowned and squinted. I saw a big, dark shape moving through the trees. Was it a person? Somebody’s dog?
No … it was much too big to be a dog. It was even too big to be a person. My breath froze in my throat. Was it a bear?
Then the whatever-it-was stepped out from under the trees and into the moonlight. I could see it clearly. It was tall and a little shaggy, and it had antlers.
I could not believe my eyes. It was a reindeer. A real, live reindeer.
“Oh, my goodness!” I whispered to myself. A reindeer in my own backyard! Reindeer do not live in Connecticut. Reindeer live way up north, like at the … North Pole!
I gasped. My brain started whirring. Then I realized that this must be one of Santa’s reindeer.
I sat perfectly still, staring at it. I felt that if I blinked, the reindeer would disappear. Finally I let out a breath — and just like that, the reindeer spun around and bolted into the woods.
A huge smile came over my face, and I was filled with a warm, happy feeling. I had seen one of Santa’s reindeer! It was a Christmas miracle.
Then I thought of something: What was one of Santa’s reindeer doing in Stoneybrook?
Rudolph
“We could have a Kwanzaa celebration,” said Sara Ford.
It was Monday, and the kids in Ms. Colman’s class were talking about our holiday pageant. Today was the day we would vote for the best idea.
“We could teach the Seven Principles of Kwanzaa,” Sara continued. “There are lots of great crafts and activities we could do.”
“That sounds like fun,” said Ian Johnson.
“Well, I was thinking I could dress up like High-style Brittany,” said Pamela. “She is my new fashion doll. The other girls could dress up like Sandy, Brittany’s personal assistant.”
I rolled my eyes but did not say anything. I was still trying to be good.
“Yeah? And what would the boys do?” Hank Reubens asked Pamela. “Sit around and watch?”
“Exactly,” said Pamela. “You could watch, as long as you did not get in the way.”
“My idea is to do a Toy Wars skit,” said Bobby. “We will dress up like Power Morphers and pretend the evil Dr. Maligno has taken over the North Pole, trapped all the elves, and turned Santa’s workshop into an Ice Fortress. We could have a huge battle, with snow cannons and exploding ice and —”
Bobby went on and on about his Toy Wars skit. Then Ricky Torres talked about his idea for a mini Winter Olympics, with a bobsled run down the center aisle of the school auditorium. Natalie Springer’s idea was to act out the manger scene in which the Three Wise Men come to see the baby Jesus.
I was not paying much attention to what everyone was saying. I was too busy thinking about the vase I had broken the day before — and about the reindeer I had seen.
I heard Nancy say, “My idea is to do something in honor of Hanukkah. I was thinking that nine of us could dress up like the candles on a menorah.”
I thought that was a great idea. But then my mind wandered some more.
Would Nannie forgive me? Would Santa forgive me? Could I manage to be good for the rest of December? And why was one of Santa’s reindeer in my backyard?
I had a terrible thought then. But suddenly everything made sense. Santa couldn’t possibly watch me all the time, checking whether I was naughty or nice. He had too many other kids to keep track of. But what if some of his reindeer helped him watch? What if this reindeer was … a spy? If that was true, it knew all about the terrible thing I had done. It had probably heard the vase crash, even over the roar of the vacuum cleaner in the next room. (Animals have very good hearing, you know.)
And if the reindeer knew about it, chances were it would tell Santa. Unless I fixed things, I would get straw and coal for Christmas.
I wondered which reindeer I had seen. Dasher? Donner? Blitzen? Or could it have been … oh, my goodness!
“Rudolph!” I blurted out. I practically shouted it, forgetting to use my indoor voice.
Everyone turned toward me. Nancy, who had been describing how the menorah candles would dance in a chorus line, fell silent.
“Rudolph?” repeated Ricky Torres. “Hey, that is a great idea, Karen. We could sing ‘Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer’ and act it out.”
“Yes, that would be so much fun!” said Addie Sidney.
“What a brilliant idea!” “Cool!” “I want to be Comet!”
Everyone started talking about what a great idea I had come up with. Everyone, that is, except Nancy. Nancy looked hurt.
“It was an accident,” I said quickly to Nancy. “I was thinking out loud. I did not mean to suggest ‘Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer.’ I would rather be a Hanukkah candle! Honestly!”
Nancy said, “That is okay, Karen.” But her voice told me it was not okay.
I had done one more bad thing without meaning to. And a reindeer spy had probably delivered its report on me by now. Santa would not be happy. I probably would not get another Christmas gift until I was ten years old!
The Christmas Spirit
Although on Monday I felt very unhappy, my spirits had lifted a bit by Tuesday. As I said, I am a naturally cheerful person. I am also very determined. On Monday evening I gave myself a little pep talk. I pointed out how good I had been for almost two whole weeks. I pointed out that I still had almost two weeks in which to be extra good. And I figured that Santa could not rely too much on his reindeer’s report. After all, he was the one with the list that he checked twice. He would be watching me again before Christmas. I was sure of it. And I was going to be ready. I was going to be better than ever.
So on Tuesday I helped Nannie fix everyone’s school lunches. I tied Andrew’s shoes for him. I let Emily Michelle watch her favorite TV show after I got home from school, even though I was trying to do my homework. I would not let a little trouble get me down. No way!
Thank heavens, no disasters happened on Tuesday or Wednesday. When I got home from school on Wednesday afternoon, I found Nannie in the mudroom, surrounded by boxes of lights and outdoor decorations. Today we were going to decorate the outside of the house for Christmas. There is nothing that gives me Christmas spirit more than hanging up mistletoe and holly.
Nannie placed holly boughs on the mailbox. David Michael put the big pinecone wreath on the front door. And Andrew and I hung red ribbons everywhere. Later, Sam, Charlie, and Daddy hung twinkling Christmas lights on our house. Elizabeth and Kristy draped more lights on our trees and bushes. Everything looked so, so Christmassy! I felt my spirits soar.
Before it was time to go inside for supper, I checked our backyard for reindeer hoof-prints. Maybe I would be able to find out what the reindeer was doing here. Maybe I could catch it trying to spy on me! Or maybe it was in trouble and needed my help.
Later I tried to read a book, but I could not concentrate on it. I kept wondering about Santa’s reindeer. I had decided that it probably was not Rudolph, since I had not seen a glowing red nose. And I had begun to think I was wrong about the reindeer being a spy. Spying was just too un-Santaish. Sure, the song says that Santa sees you when you are sleeping. But who is ever bad in their sleep? Santa checks in on you when you are sleeping to make sure you are okay — not having a nightmare or coming untucked.
So if the reindeer was not a spy, what was it doing in my backyard? Was it okay? Did it miss Santa and want to go home? Was it hungry? I decided to look for him again. Maybe I could lure him with some food.
What did reindeer eat, anyway? Vegetables, I supposed.
I went to the refrigerator and took a bag of baby carrots out of the crisper drawer. Then I ran to where I had seen the reindeer. (I took a bag of recycling with me to disguise what I was doing. I did not want anybody with me right away. One person was bad enough. But two people w
ould definitely scare the reindeer.
It was pretty dark outside, but snow made everything look brighter. Carefully I wandered among the trees at the back of our yard, peering at the ground. I did not see a single thing. More snow had fallen last night, but you’d think a huge reindeer would leave pretty deep prints. Still, I could not find a trace of one.
I waited for what seemed like hours. Then finally I saw a large dark shape. There it was! Santa’s reindeer. I could barely make out its shape but it was definitely there.
But I wanted someone else to see the magical reindeer. I wanted to share it with someone.
“Come quick!” I hollered. “Come see this! Quickly! Come here, everybody!”
I watched the reindeer nibble at the ground. I could not believe it. I was feeding one of Santa’s reindeer.
For a few seconds nobody opened my door. Then I heard the latch, and turned to see Charlie in the doorway.
“What is all the fuss?” he asked.
“Come see, Charlie!” I said. “Quick, before the reindeer disappears!”
“Huh?” Charlie said.
“A reindeer! In the backyard. It is one of Santa’s! Look!” I turned back to the window and peered out.
I gasped. The reindeer was gone.
Charlie was looking over my shoulder. “I do not see anything,” he said. “Except the backyard. Are you sure you saw a deer, Karen? That is pretty exciting.”
“I am sure I saw a deer,” I said firmly. “And not just any deer — a reindeer. And not just any reindeer — one of Santa’s reindeer.”
Charlie looked at me. “Well, you know, deer are pretty common in the woods around here, and sometimes they even come into town. But not reindeer.”
“It was a reindeer,” I said firmly. I folded my arms across my chest.
Charlie paused for a second. Then he smiled and said, “Okay, it was a reindeer. I believe you. Anything is possible. Now, lie down and try to get some sleep. It is way past your bedtime.”
“Okay, Charlie,” I said.
Karen's Reindeer Page 2
