The Fight
One morning Nancy and I were riding the bus to school when Nancy leaned over and whispered something in my ear. “I am a little afraid of Pamela,” she said. She looked embarrassed.
“You are?” I replied.
“Yes. And Hannie is too. Pamela is always so mean to us now. So are Jannie and Leslie, but Pamela is the meanest.”
This was not a good thing. I thought about it in the morning when I saw Pamela turn around in her seat and make mean faces at Nancy and Hannie. I thought about it in the cafeteria when Pamela pushed in front of Nancy on the lunch line. And I thought about it on the playground while the Milky Ways hogged the swings.
“I want to swing today, too,” said Hannie.
“Tell Pamela she has to give you a turn,” I said.
“Noooo, I don’t want to,” said Hannie.
“It will be okay. Just tell her,” I said patiently.
“Pamela!” called Hannie. “I would like a turn now, please!”
“You will have to wai-ait!” Pamela called back in her singsong voice.
Hannie scuffed her feet. My friends and I waited for ten minutes. Then I nudged Hannie and said, “Tell her again.”
“No,” said Hannie. “No way.”
“Want me to try?” offered Nancy. Before Hannie could answer, Nancy was shouting, “Pamela, could you please give Han —”
“You will have to wai-ait!” called Pamela again. And the Milky Ways began to laugh.
That did it. I ran to the swings. I stood in front of Pamela so that when she swung forward she almost touched me. “Get off of the swings!” I cried. “You cannot hog them all day. Get off.”
“Make me.”
I moved closer to Pamela’s swing. The next time she swung forward, I caught her feet. And I stopped her. But Pamela would not get off the swing.
By now, a bunch of kids from our class were watching us. Bobby and Ricky and the boys had stopped their game of kickball. Natalie was standing with Hannie and Nancy. And Leslie and Jannie had stopped swinging and were watching us, too.
“Make me,” said Pamela again.
So I slugged Pamela in the face.
I had not known I was going to do that. I had not meant to do it. But suddenly I was gasping, and Pamela was gasping, and her cheek was turning bright red.
For a moment, everyone else was quiet. Then the other kids started to talk. I could hear them say things like, “Karen hit her!” and “Did you see that?” I even heard one person (I do not know who) say, “Someone finally hit Pamela.” Then someone else said, “That is wrong. Hitting is not the way to solve problems. Everyone knows that.”
I knew I should apologize to Pamela then. I had hurt her and I had embarrassed her. But I just could not tell her I was sorry. She had been too mean to my friends and me lately.
Finally Leslie said, “Pamela, are you all right?”
“Of course I am,” replied Pamela. She jumped to her feet. “Come on, you guys. Let’s get out of here.”
The Milky Ways ran off. I stared after them. Then I looked for Hannie and Nancy. I did not see Pamela again until it was time to line up and wait to be let inside. Pamela got on line with everyone else. She would not look at me.
The Boys Tattle
My classmates and I did not say anything about Pamela while we waited in line. In fact, we did not say anything at all. We stood silently in our places. Then we walked silently into school and along the hallway. We walked silently into our classroom. Ms. Colman looked up from her desk as we silently took our places.
She knew something was wrong.
“Boys and girls?” she said.
Nobody answered her.
And then she saw Pamela’s face. She saw her cheek, which was bright red where I had hit her. “Pamela!” she exclaimed. “What happened to you?”
Pamela shrugged. “Nothing.”
We were all watching Pamela, every single one of us kids. We were waiting for her to say what I had done. We were waiting for her to tattle.
“Pamela?” said Ms. Coleman again. “Somebody hit you. I want you to tell me what happened. What was the fight about?”
“Nothing,” Pamela repeated. She would not look at Ms. Colman.
Ms. Colman looked at her, though. She looked at her hard. Then she looked around at the rest of us.
“All right,” said our teacher. She sounded very stern. Ms. Colman hardly ever sounds stern, so I knew she was serious. “I want someone to tell me what went on out there on the playground.”
My classmates and I stopped looking at Pamela. But we could not look at Ms. Colman, either. We stared at our hands, or the floor, or the blackboard, or out the windows.
Nobody said a word.
“I think every one of you knows what happened,” Ms. Colman went on. “And I would like somebody to tell me about it. Fighting is serious. Hitting is very serious. Any kind of hurting is very serious. It is not the way to solve problems.”
“That is what I said!” cried Natalie Springer. And then she clapped her hand over her mouth. “Oops,” she muttered.
So Natalie had said that. I knew she was right. But somehow that made me angry now. I narrowed my eyes at her. Dumb old Natalie with her lisp, and her socks that are always falling down.
I hoped Ms. Colman had finished speaking. But she had not. And what she said next surprised me. “All right, boys and girls,” she continued. “I must tell you something. I am having a problem. My problem is that I need to know who hit Pamela and why. I need somebody to tell me what happened. But none of you wants to talk about it. So I am going to solve my problem by saying that until someone tells me the truth, none of you may go outside for recess. Starting tomorrow, we will spend our recesses indoors, sitting quietly at our desks. Now please take out your autumn leaf projects.”
I could not believe it! No outdoor recess until somebody snitched on me?
After school that day, Nancy said to me, “Karen, what are you going to do?” She looked worried.
“I don’t know. I do not want everyone to miss recess. But I cannot tell Ms. Colman I hit Pamela.” I paused. “Do you think anyone else will tell on me? Pamela won’t talk. She is too embarrassed.”
“Nobody wants to tattle,” replied Nancy.
Nancy was wrong. The next day, nobody tattled all morning. Even when Ms. Colman said, “Who will tell me what happened?” But at noon she said, “All right. After lunch, please return to our room for recess.” And then all the boys in the room stood up. Together they said, “Karen Brewer did it.”
The Principal’s Office
I glared at the boys. I made evil eyes at them. They were such babies. Just because they wanted to play outside, they had to go tattle. Every one of them. Even Ricky, my pretend husband. He should have known better than to tell on his wife. But he had gone along with the other boys.
“Karen? Pamela?” said Ms. Colman. “Is this true?”
I glanced over my shoulder at Pamela. Then we nodded. “Yes,” I said.
“Very well. Boys and girls, you may go to the cafeteria for lunch. Afterward, you may go outside for recess. Except for Karen and Pamela. You stay here.”
Pamela and I stood at Ms. Colman’s desk. The other kids hurried into the hallway. Hannie and Nancy looked at me sadly on their way out.
“Now,” Ms. Colman said to Pamela and me, “I want to hear the story from both of you. Pamela, you go first.”
“Um,” Pamela began, “well, Karen was bothering me on the swings and then she just hit me.”
Ms. Colman looked doubtful. “Karen?”
“Pamela was being mean to Nancy and Hannie and me. She has been mean for a long time. And yesterday she would not let Hannie have a turn on the swings, even when Hannie asked nicely. So, um, I hit her.”
Ms. Colman set her mouth in a firm line. “I am not happy with either one of you,” she said. “And I am surprised at you. Pamela, you know that in this school you are expected to share. We talk about that a lot.”
/> “Pamela is a swing hog,” I spoke up.
“And Karen, I would never have expected you to hit someone,” Ms. Colman continued. “Both of you will have to go to the principal’s office.”
The principal’s office? But that meant we had done something very, very serious.
“Did you girls bring your lunches today?” asked Ms. Colman.
“Yes,” we said.
“Okay. Get them from your cubbies. You may eat them while you wait to see Mrs. Titus. Come along.”
Ms. Colman led Pamela and me down the hall to the office. I have been to see our vice-principal, but never the principal herself. Pamela and I sat on a bench outside the office. We tried to eat our lunches while Ms. Colman talked to Mrs. Titus. After awhile, Ms. Colman left. “I will see you in class later, girls,” she said.
Then Mrs. Titus called us inside. Pamela and I threw away our lunch bags. We sat in chairs facing Mrs. Titus at her desk.
“I hear you had a fight,” said Mrs. Titus. “Will you please tell me about it?”
Pamela and I told our stories again. Pamela finished hers by saying, “And hitting is never right. Karen should not have done that.”
“No,” agreed Mrs. Titus. “She should not have. And you, Pamela, should have shared your swing. Both of you have a lot to learn about manners, about courtesy, and about working out disagreements. And you need to remember that rules must be followed all the time, not just when you feel like following them. Your behavior yesterday was not what I expect from students at Stoneybrook Academy. I am not pleased. So you will have to be punished.”
“What is our punishment?” asked Pamela in a small voice.
“Neither one of you may be in the Halloween parade,” replied Mrs. Titus. “I will call your parents to tell them about my decision.”
“We can’t be in the parade?” I cried. But then how could I beat Pamela by winning a prize? And how could I show off the wonderful furry costume Kristy and I were making? I could not. Boo and bullfrogs.
That night, Mommy and Seth had A TALK with me. They were not pleased with my behavior either. And Mommy had not been pleased with her phone call from Mrs. Titus. She said I had better remember to keep my temper. Then she said no TV for three whole nights. BOO and more bullfrogs.
Karen and Leah
Halloween was just a few days away. At the little house, Kristy had helped Andrew and me to finish our costumes. Andrew’s train of cardboard boxes, and my furry suit with horns, sat in the back hallway. I would be able to wear my costume when I went trick-or-treating of course. But I could not wear it in the Halloween parade.
In school, in Mr. Posner’s room, the little kids’ costumes were almost finished, too. One day, Ms. Colman said to my classmates and me, “Today you must make sure the kindergarteners’ costumes are ready. This is the last chance you will have to work with the kids.”
That afternoon, when we arrived in Mr. Posner’s room, Leah jumped up and ran to me. She was holding her costume. “Look, Karen!” she cried. “I put some more sequins on by myself. Do you like what I did?”
“It looks great,” I replied. “I am glad you like it.”
“I cannot wait to wear it.”
“You mean when you go trick-or-treating?” I asked.
Leah nodded. Then she said, “I am kind of looking forward to the parade, too. I want everyone to see my costume. Then they will know how hard I worked. And I will not be too scared in the parade, since you will be with me, Karen.”
Uh-oh. The parade. Mrs. Titus had said I could not be in it. But I had made a promise to Leah. I could not break my promise, either. What should I do?
I decided to talk to Ms. Colman. I talked to her at the end of the day, while my classmates were getting ready to leave school.
“Ms. Colman?” I said. I waited by her desk.
“Yes, Karen?”
“I have a problem. I need to talk to you. It is about the parade.”
“Karen, you know what Mrs. Titus said. I cannot change that.”
“I know. But I also promised Leah I would walk with her in the parade. I said I would hold her hand so she would not feel scared.”
Ms. Colman frowned. “That is right. I had forgotten about that.”
“So had I. And I do not want to break my promise to Leah.”
“Hmm. Let me think about this,” said Ms. Colman. “Let me talk to Mrs. Titus. See me first thing tomorrow morning.”
Tomorrow? How could I wait until the next day? But I had to.
I worried about my problem all night.
The next morning I waited for Ms. Colman to enter our classroom. The moment I saw her, I ran to her. “Did you talk to Mrs. Titus?” I asked.
“Yes,” replied my teacher. “And she wants to talk to you. You may go to her office right now, if you like.”
Of course I wanted to talk to Mrs. Titus. So I walked to her office.
When Mrs. Titus saw me, she said, “Oh, Karen. Good morning.”
“Good morning,” I answered.
“Ms. Colman told me about your promise to Leah Frenning.” (I nodded.) “You were very nice to make that promise. But I did tell you and Pamela that you may not be in the parade.”
I nodded again. Then I said, “But I do not want to break my promise.”
“No. I do not think you should do that. It would not be fair to Leah. So I have decided that you may walk with Mr. Posner’s class and hold Leah’s hand. But you may not wear a costume, just your school clothes. And you still may not march in the parade with your class. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” I said.
Boo. I did want to show off my costume. But at least I could keep my promise to Leah.
The Sneaky Plan
I was glad that I could keep my promise to Leah. But I was mad that I could not be in the Halloween parade. I knew I should not have hit Pamela. But I still wanted everyone at Stoneybrook Academy to see my wonderful Wild Thing costume. And I still wanted to beat Pamela by winning a prize.
So I sulked around for awhile. I sulked around so much that Nancy and Hannie got tired of me. At recess the next day they played hopscotch by themselves while I sat under a tree. We were not mad. We just needed a little break from each other. At least, they said they needed a break from me.
“Boo, boo, boo,” I said. I leaned against the trunk of the tree. The ground was cold under my seat. I could feel it through my coat.
Then I heard a sound. I heard someone say, “Rats, rats, ratty rats.” I peered around the tree. Pamela was leaning against the other side of the trunk. She looked as sulky as I felt.
“What are you doing here?” she said when she saw me.
“Nothing. What are you doing?”
“Nothing. Where are the rest of your Musketeers?”
I shrugged. “Playing. Where are the rest of your Milky Ways?”
Pamela shrugged. “Playing.”
“Anyway,” I said, “thanks a lot.”
“For what?” asked Pamela, frowning.
“For getting us in trouble.”
“Me? I did not get us in trouble. You were the one who hit me.”
“Well, I would not have hit you if you had not been so mean.”
“Yeah, well …” Pamela paused. Finally she said, “I guess we got each other in trouble. It was not all my fault or all your fault.”
“I guess,” I said. “Boy, I wish you could see the costume I was going to wear in the parade. My big stepsister helped me make it. It is a Wild Thing. It even has fur and horns.”
“Really?” Pamela looked interested. “Cool. I am going to be a lollipop.”
“Cool!” I said. “But now no one will see us. Not at school, anyway.”
“Nope. Not at school.”
“I really like walking in the parade,” I said. “It is one of the best things about Halloween. I always look forward to it.”
“Darn old Mrs. Titus,” said Pamela.
“Yeah, darn old Mrs. —” I stopped. “Hey, wait!”
> “What?”
“I just had an idea. But I do not know if you would want to do it. I do not even know if we can do it.”
“What is it?” asked Pamela.
“Well, I think I know how we can be in the parade.”
“You are kidding.”
“Nope. What if we had a costume that would cover us up completely, even our heads? No one would know we were wearing it.”
“Because no one could see us,” said Pamela. “But how would we sneak into the parade? How would we change into our costume?”
“Yeah. What if we got caught?” I said.
“What if our costume won a prize?” cried Pamela. “That would be awful! Then everyone would know what we had done.”
“Still, don’t you want to be in the parade?” I asked.
Pamela smiled. “Yes,” she admitted.
“Me too,” I said. “So let’s do it. We will figure something out.”
“Okay,” agreed Pamela.
Halloween
“Hey, Andrew! It is Halloween!” I exclaimed. “Wake up!”
Andrew peered sleepily at me from under his covers. “What?” he said. And then he remembered. “Oh, yeah! Halloween!”
My brother and I ran downstairs. First we looked at our costumes again. Then we checked our trick-or-treat buckets, just to make sure they were there. Then we checked the bowl of candy bars Mommy and Seth were going to hand out that night.
I sighed. Halloween is a gigundoly wonderful holiday.
The only bad thing about it is waiting for it to happen.
I was not patient in school that day. I wiggled around a lot.
Finally, after lunch and recess, Ms. Colman said, “Okay, girls and boys. It is time to get ready for the parade.”
“Yes!” I cried.
Ms. Colman looked at me oddly. I knew she was wondering why I was so excited about the parade if I was not going to be in it. So I settled down. “Now,” my teacher continued, “will all the boys please take their costumes next door to Mr. Berger’s room. Then Mr. Berger’s girls are going to come here. You will change your clothes in the classrooms.”