“Where is Emily?” she asked. “Have you seen her?”
“I thought she was with you,” said Daddy.
“I though she was with you,” said Nannie.
“Well, she must be right here somewhere.” Daddy looked around the room. Then he glanced into the hallway. “Hmm,” he said.
We searched high and low in Ms. Colman’s room, in case Emily was hiding.
“Is anything wrong?” asked Ms. Colman.
“We cannot find Emily,” I told her.
Soon everyone was looking for Emily. Ms. Colman was looking for her, my classmates were looking for her, even our guests were looking for her.
Emily was not in the room. The searchers looked in the halls. They looked in the cafeteria and the gym. Then they began to look in the other classrooms.
Daddy ran from room to room. (He hardly ever runs.) Nannie’s eyes filled with tears. “Don’t worry, Nannie,” I said. “We will find Emily. I know we will.” I turned to Hannie and Nancy. “Come on, you guys. Let’s go look on the playground.”
On the way to the playground, we passed the kindergarten rooms. I saw Mr. Posner, one of the teachers, and I waved to him. “Mr. Posner, have you seen my little sister? She is lost,” I said.
Just then, a voice cried, “Hi! Look! Look at me!” The voice sounded like Emily’s, and it had come from the back of Mr. Posner’s room. I peered into the Imagination Corner.
There was Emily. She was wearing a straw hat and a tool belt, and she was grinning from ear to ear. “Come pay!” she called to me.
“Emily! We have been looking all over for you! You scared us!” I said. “Hey, Hannie, Nancy. Will you guys please find Daddy and Nannie, and tell them where Emily is?”
My friends ran off. A few minutes later, everyone stopped searching for Emily. Daddy and Nannie rushed into Mr. Posner’s room. They hugged Emily. Nannie cried a little.
“Do not ever do that again!” exclaimed Daddy.
“We did not know where you were,” added Nannie. “You must not run off like that.”
“Okay,” said Emily. She was still grinning.
“I guess Emily had been here for a few minutes before Karen saw her,” said Mr. Posner. “I was busy with the children working at the math table, so I did not see her come in. She gets along very nicely with other children,” he went on. “She is very cooperative.”
“And happy,” I said, looking at Emily’s smile. “I think she really likes school. Do you like school, Emily?”
“Cool!” she cried.
I did not know whether that meant “cool” or “school,” but it did not matter. Either way, she sounded excited. Suddenly, I understood something. Daddy and Nannie understood it then, too.
“Emily wants to go to school,” I said.
This was why Emily had tantrums on weekday mornings. She was the only kid at the big house who did not get to go to school. She did not like being left behind.
“Well, I think we can do something about that,” said Daddy.
Emily’s School
When we returned to the big house that afternoon, Daddy and Nannie went right to work. They wanted to find a preschool for Emily. Do you know what happened? They could not find one. Part of the reason was that Emily is only two. Most of the programs they found were for kids who are three or four. The rest of the reason was that school had already started. It was almost the end of October. The programs they did find for two-year-olds were full already.
At dinner that night, my family talked things over. Finally Kristy said, “What about starting a play group for Emily?”
“What is a play group?” asked David Michael.
“It is a group of children who get together a few times a week. They paint and play games and build with blocks and listen to stories. Only they do not go to a school. They move around from house to house. Mom, I bet we could start a play group for Emily, Sari Papadakis, and a few other little kids on the street. The group would be held here one day, at Sari’s the next day, and so forth. Just for a couple of hours each time. That is long enough for a two-year-old.”
“Kristy, that is a wonderful idea!” exclaimed Elizabeth.
“Fantastic,” agreed Daddy.
“The best,” said Nannie.
“Emily, you are going to go to school,” I said. “Emily’s school. A school just for you.”
“Well, now, let’s not get her hopes up,” said Daddy. “We have not arranged this yet. We have not even talked to the Papadakises.”
But guess what. In just two days, Emily’s “school” was ready to go. Sari Papadakis would be part of it, and so would two other two-year-olds who live nearby — Petey Crosby and Nelson Rice.
Emily’s first day of school was on Monday. The play group was going to be held at Sari’s.
When I woke up on Monday morning, I bounced into Emily’s room. “Good morning, Emily!” I cried. “Today is Monday, a school day. And you are going to school. You are a big girl.”
“Cool?” Emily repeated. She climbed out of her bed.
“Yup. School. So come on. Time to get ready. What do you want to wear on your first day of school?”
Emily pulled open one of her bureau drawers. “Socks?” she suggested.
“That is a good start,” I said.
I helped Emily get dressed. Then I led her downstairs to the kitchen. Elizabeth put Emily in her high chair. I watched my little sister closely. I was waiting for her to throw a tantrum.
But she did not. She knew she was going to school like the rest of us kids. So she behaved herself. She ate her breakfast. When she was finished, she said, “All done.”
Daddy took her out of her high chair. He wiped her face and hands. “Are you ready to go to school, Emily?” he asked.
“Ready,” replied Emily.
So Daddy walked Emily across the street to Sari’s house.
When I returned home from school that day, I found Emily sitting outside on the front steps with Nannie. “How was school?” I asked her.
“Cool! Pay! Make painting!” cried Emily. She tugged at my sleeve. Then she pulled me inside to show me a painting that Nannie had taped to the refrigerator. “I big girl now,” announced Emily.
My little sister was just a sister again. She was no longer a monster.
Four Little Monsters
One Saturday morning I woke up in my bed at the big house. I lay there with my fingers crossed. I was crossing them because I hoped that when I peeked out the window I would find sunshine. Rain would be a very, very bad thing. Why? Because today was the day of the SHS Halloween parade.
With my fingers still crossed (all of them), I sat up. I peered behind the window shade. I saw sunshine.
“Yes!” I cried.
I uncrossed my fingers. Then I threw on some clothes and ran downstairs. “Charlie! Charlie!” I called.
“In the kitchen, Karen,” he replied.
I ran to the kitchen. “Okay, where is it?” I asked.
Charlie grinned at me. “What? You mean your costume? Gosh, I don’t know. I hope I have not lost it.”
I knew Charlie was teasing me. He had gotten together monster costumes for Emily, Andrew, David Michael, and me, just as he had promised. But he would not show them to us. “I will surprise you on the day of the parade,” he kept saying.
Well, now it was the day of the parade. “Come on, Charlie. You know where my costume is. Please go get it,” I begged him. “Get all of them. We cannot wait to see them.”
That was true. By then, Emily, David Michael, and Andrew were with me. We were dying to see the costumes. We were hoping for fangs.
Charlie disappeared upstairs. When he returned to us, his arms were full. He handed out the parts of our costumes.
“Cool! A wart!” cried Andrew.
“Very realistic fangs,” said David Michael.
“Oh, goody. Warty hands,” I said.
“Hair!” exclaimed Emily. (Charlie had given her a fright wig.)
Charlie helped t
he four of us put on our costumes. When we had finished, he nodded his head. “Excellent monsters,” he said. Then he called the rest of our family to look at us.
Kristy pretended she did not recognize us. “Aughh! Monsters!” she shrieked. She ran out of the room.
Soon it was time to drive to the high school. Charlie loaded Frankenstone into the Junk Bucket. David Michael and Andrew and I climbed in, too. Everyone else rode in the van. We met at SHS.
“Whoa. Look at all these people,” I said to David Michael.
A huge crowd had gathered near the football field. The floats were lining up for the parade. High school kids were setting things up on the floats, climbing onto the floats, unrolling banners, and putting on their costumes. Bustle, bustle, bustle.
Charlie led my brothers and sister and me to the football team’s float. (Sam left to find the math club’s float. He was going to ride on it dressed like an enormous number 5. He said he felt like a dork.)
“Hey, everybody! Here is Frank!” Charlie announced when he reached the float. “And here are our four little monsters.”
Charlie helped us monsters onto the float. I looked around. I was going to be riding with Frankenstone, a mummy, Bigfoot, Dracula, a swamp creature, my brothers, and Emily. Cool.
I waited for the parade to start. (I was not very patient.) When it did, we rolled onto the street. We moved slowly past the high school. Then we headed downtown.
I looked out at the people watching the parade. They were waving and calling to us.
“Happy Halloween, everybody!” I cried. “Happy Halloween from the little monsters!”
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 © 1995 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, 1995
e-ISBN 978-1-338-05889-5
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