The parents clapped then. They clapped loudly. They were smiling. I smiled, too. I was thinking that in one month my parents would be here. And they would be clapping for me.
After Mrs. Titus’ speech, the new patrols walked across the stage, one by one. And one by one, they took off their belts and badges and put them on the new patrols. A second-grade patrol named Colleen slipped her belt over my head. I looked down at it. My own patrol badge. I was now a member of the Red Brigade for one month.
After the ceremony, Mrs. Noonan asked the patrols, old and new, to meet with her for a few minutes. We sat in a classroom. Mrs. Noonan said, “Okay, boys and girls. First I will assign the new patrols to their posts. Second-graders and third-graders will work in pairs.”
Mrs. Noonan read from a list. Addie and I were going to be partners. We were going to be in charge of an intersection. That is a place where one hallway crosses another hallway. It was an important post because it was very busy. As Mrs. Noonan said, “Lots of traffic.” (She meant kids, not cars.) I knew Addie and I would be calling out, “Walk, don’t run” a lot.
After Mrs. Noonan had assigned our posts, she said, “Now this afternoon — and only this afternoon — the old patrols will work with you new patrols. They will show you what you need to know about your posts. They will tell you what to do.”
* * *
That afternoon, Addie and I felt very special. That was because we were allowed to leave our classroom five minutes before the bell rang. And we got to put on our badges first.
Addie and I arrived proudly at our post — the hallway intersection. We met Colleen. Carter Lewis was there, too. He had been another second-grade patrol. (They are in Mr. Berger’s class.)
Colleen took charge. “Now as soon as the bell rings,” she said, “the halls will be filled with kids. You have to keep a special eye on the kindergarteners. Their classrooms are right over there, and sometimes they need help with things.”
The bell rang then, and Colleen was right. Suddenly kids were everywhere.
“Hey, no running!” called Carter.
The kid Carter yelled at stopped running. But he looked angry.
Colleen hurried over to some kids at the water fountain. “Make a line!” she said. “I told you before. Make a line. Or,” she added, “I will report you.”
Colleen turned to me. Two of the kids at the fountain made faces at her back. I glanced at Addie. Addie raised her eye-brows at me. I made another decision. I was going to be a nice patrol. Not a mean one like Colleen or Carter.
On the Job
On Monday morning, I hopped off the school bus. I hurried to my post in the hallway. Addie was already there. Her bus had arrived before mine did. I put on my badge. Then I grinned at Addie. “Ready to work?” I asked her.
Addie nodded importantly. “Yup.”
The hallway was already getting crowded. Kids were streaming to their classrooms. Some went into the bathrooms or to the office. Some were looking for teachers. The kids were noisy. They shouted to each other. They tossed things in the air. One kid threw a wad of paper on the floor.
“No littering!” called Addie sharply. “Pick that up!”
Even though the kid was a big fifth-grader, he picked up the paper. But then he walked behind Addie and stuck his tongue out at her. I wondered if I should do something. But what? Call out, “No sticking out your tongue”? That seemed silly.
A moment later, two fifth-graders ran by.
“Walk, don’t run!” called Addie. “Do you want me to rep — ”
I nudged Addie. “Don’t,” I whispered.
Addie let the kids go. “Why?” she whispered back.
“They are big kids,” I replied. “We do not want them to hate us. I mean, we are only patrols for a month. After that we are just regular second-graders again. I do not want them to be mean to us later.”
“Well … okay,” replied Addie. But she did not sound too sure about what I had said.
For awhile, Addie and I just watched the kids. We saw a sixth-grader run around a corner. We saw a fifth-grader tease a third-grader. And then we saw two kindergarteners running. They were running fast. And they were heading for some other kids.
“Karen — ” Addie began to say.
“Okay, okay,” I replied. I snagged the little kids as they flew by me. “Hey! Hey! Walk, don’t run! No running in the halls!” I said sharply. “You almost ran into those other kids.”
The kindergarteners — two little girls — looked worried.
“Are you going to report us?” asked one. Her lip was trembling.
I tried to look stern. “Not this time,” I told her. “But — ”
“Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you!” she cried.
The girl and her friend hung back. They watched Addie and me for a moment. Then one of them said shyly, “My name is Shawn Volk. What is yours?”
“Karen Brewer,” I told her. “And this is Addie Sidney.”
“I’m Becky,” said the other girl.
Three other kindergarteners joined Shawn and Becky. Becky whispered to them, “She caught us running, but she did not report us.” (Becky was pointing to me.)
“Really?” they said.
Before Addie and I knew what had happened, the little kids had crowded around us.
“Look, I have a loose tooth,” said one.
“I got new sneakers,” said another.
“My baby brother threw up this morning,” said a third.
Addie and I had a great time with the kindergarteners. We talked with them. We acted as grown-up as we could. Finally, the bell rang. I sighed with happiness. This was the job for me, all right.
Great-Grandma’s Ring
That afternoon, Addie and I were at our post five minutes before the bell rang. We worked until it was time for our buses to leave. (Mostly we played with Shawn and her friends.)
When my bus stopped at the end of my street, Nancy and Bobby Gianelli and I hopped off.
“ ’Bye!” Nancy and I called to Bobby.
“See you!” he called back.
“Karen, can you come over this afternoon?” Nancy wanted to know.
“I think so. I have to check with Mommy.”
Mommy said I could. Soon I was in Nancy’s room. We sat on her bed. We sat side by side. I saw a pile of magazines at the end of the bed.
“What are those?” I asked.
“Fashion magazines,” said Nancy. She handed me one. “See? Big girls look at them and see pictures of clothes they want to wear. And hair styles and stuff. Here is my favorite outfit. If Mommy and Daddy would let me wear it, I would look so grown-up.” Nancy showed me a picture of a girl wearing a wild black dress with pink cowboy boots.
“And this,” Nancy went on, “is my most favorite haircut.”
Nancy pointed to a girl with short hair. I decided I did not like the outfit, but I liked the haircut.
“Are you really going to get your hair cut?” I asked.
Nancy shrugged. “If I am allowed.” She jumped off the bed and opened her dresser drawer. She took out a small velvet jewelry box.
“What is that?” I asked her.
“My great-grandma’s ring,” Nancy replied. “It was her wedding ring.” Nancy showed me the gold band. “Daddy gave it to me. He said it is mine now. I can wear it on special occasions. It fits my thumb. But you know what?” She sighed. “I asked if I can wear it to school and he said no, I am not old enough. But I know I am old enough, Karen. Why won’t Mommy and Daddy believe me?”
I shook my head. Who can figure out parents? Then I said, “Want to have a Lovely Ladies tea party?”
“Yeah!” replied Nancy. So we did.
The Accident
On Wednesday, I had a bad day at school. Here is the very first thing that happened after Ms. Colman had taken roll. She said, “Girls and boys, I have an announcement.”
Somehow I just knew it was not going to be a wonderful Surprising Announcement. It was not even going to be a goo
d announcement.
“In two weeks,” my teacher went on, “you will be taking a test. It is called the two-AT. That means an achievement test for second-graders. All the second-graders here at Stoneybrook Academy will be taking it then.”
“How long will it last?” Addie wanted to know.
“Just an hour each morning for three mornings,” Ms. Colman replied.
“Do we have to study for it?” Chris asked.
My teacher shook her head. “No. The test is supposed to measure what you know without studying.”
“Goody,” said Chris.
“So I do not want any of you to worry about the test,” Ms. Colman went on. “You cannot fail it. It will just show me what you know.”
Do not worry. Do not worry. Guess what. I was already worried. I do not like taking tests. Once, our class had to take some math tests. They were very, very hard for me. So I began copying from Ricky’s paper. Then I lied and told Ms. Colman I was not copying. I felt horrible. And I got into a lot of trouble. Now I had to take the stupid 2AT. Boo and bullfrogs.
The next bad thing happened after school. It happened while Addie and I were on patrol duty. We were in charge of our hallway intersection as usual. Guess what. I had gotten my wish. Addie and I were the most popular patrols in the Red Brigade. This was because we never reported anybody for doing anything. Sometimes we called out, “Walk, don’t run!” or “Take turns at the water fountain!” But that was about it. The kids loved us. Especially the kindergarteners. The big kids kind of liked us, too, since we let them do whatever they wanted.
“Hi, Karen! Hi, Addie!” called a little kid named Fred. He was one of Shawn’s friends. “Look. I got a star on my worksheet.”
Addie and I peered at Fred’s paper. He had gotten a star for matching pictures of things that belong together.
“That is terrific, Fred,” said Addie.
“Fantastic,” I added.
Three fourth-graders ran by us then.
“No running!” called Addie.
“Okay!” they shouted. They did not slow down.
Addie turned back to Fred. I was waving to Nancy down the hall. And that was when I heard it — little feet running (patter, patter, patter), then a thud, then, “Wah!”
It was Becky. She had run around a corner and smacked into Shawn. She had cut her lip and it was bleeding.
Mrs. Noonan was there in a flash. (Becky has a loud voice.) After she helped Becky to the nurse, she returned to Addie and me. “I understand Becky was running through the hall,” she said.
“Well — ” I started to answer.
“Girls, you must take your job seriously. You must pay attention at all times. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” replied Addie and I.
“And I must tell you something. I am concerned because since you became patrols you have not reported a single student. I do not expect you to be tattletales, but I find it hard to believe that not one student has broken a single rule. So once again, I ask you to take your job seriously. I hope you understand me.”
Uh-oh.
Spies
Addie and I talked on the phone that night. We talked for a long time.
“Mrs. Noonan is right, Karen,” Addie said. “We are not doing our jobs.”
“I know,” I replied. I sighed. “But I want the kids to like us.”
“Well, we do not have to be mean to them.”
“Addie, no matter how nice we are, they will not like us if we report them,” I pointed out.
“But if we do not report a few kids, Mrs. Noonan is going to talk to us again. I do not want that.”
So Addie and I agreed on something. And we tried it out the next morning. As soon as Addie and I reached our post, a girl walked by us. She dropped a candy wrapper on the floor.
“No littering!” I called. Then I added, “This is your first warning. If we catch you again, we will report you.”
“You will?’ said the girl.
“Yes,” I replied. And I meant it.
A moment later, Becky ran by us. “Hey, Becky! No running!” said Addie. Then she added, “You really cannot run anymore. That is how you got hurt yesterday. I am not going to report you now. But if you run again, I will.”
“Hmphh,” said Becky. But she walked slowly into her classroom.
Addie nudged me then. “Karen,” she whispered, “see those two girls?” Addie was pointing to some fifth-graders. They were standing by the door to a classroom. They were not breaking any rules.
“Yeah?” I said.
“Yesterday afternoon I saw them come out of a fourth-grade room. It was while Mrs. Noonan was talking to us. I wonder what they were doing.”
“Hmm. You know what? Last week I saw them go into a kindergarten room. I thought they were going to walk one of the kids home, but they came out alone.”
“I wonder why,” said Addie. “Why are they going into all these classrooms?”
I frowned. Then I grabbed Addie’s sleeve. “Hey! You know what? I bet they are the ones who are stealing things from everyone’s desks and cubbies. They are the crooks!”
“Oh, Karen. You do not know that,” said Addie. “You do not have any proof.”
“Then let’s get proof. Let’s spy on them.”
“Well … okay,” said Addie.
The next morning we kept our eyes open. We were looking for the girls. When we saw them, we watched them enter a classroom. It was their own room. But soon they came out into the hall again. They peered into a third-grade room. They tiptoed inside. They came out a few minutes later. They were whispering and giggling. But we did not know if they had stolen anything. So we watched them that afternoon, and again on Monday.
I guess we kind of forgot about our patrol duties. We were so busy watching the girls that we did not notice who was running or fighting or teasing or littering.
Mrs. Noonan reminded us.
“Karen, Addie,” she said. “I have been watching you. You are not paying attention to the hallways at all. I do not know what you are doing, but it certainly is not your jobs. If I have to talk to you one more time about this, then I will also ask you to give up your badges. You will have to leave the Red Brigade.”
Yikes. I certainly did not want that. And I did not want to miss that badge ceremony. That would be a disgrace.
Nancy’s Haircut
“Karen! Karen!” said Nancy the next morning. She was running across her yard to my house. It was time for us to walk to the bus stop. “Guess what! Mommy and Daddy said I can get my hair cut! I showed them the picture from the magazine. The picture of the haircut I like. And they said okay. I can get my hair cut that way. Mommy even made an appointment for me.”
“Not at Gloriana’s House of Hair,” I said.
Nancy looked horrified. “Of course not,” she replied. “At Hair Fair. I am going this afternoon. And Mommy said you and Hannie can come with me. Won’t that be fun?”
“Cool,” I said.
The only thing that was not cool was that Hannie could not come after all. She was going shopping with her mother.
“I cannot wait to see you tomorrow,” she called to Nancy as we left school. “Good luck.”
Mrs. Dawes drove Nancy and Danny and me downtown. Danny is Nancy’s baby brother. And I mean he is her baby brother. He is only a few months old. I like everything about him except his diapers.
We parked in front of Hair Fair. We walked inside. Nancy was holding the magazine picture. It was kind of smudged and crumpled, but you could still see the haircut.
Nancy marched up to the counter. “Hello. My name is Nancy Dawes,” she said importantly. “I have a four-thirty appointment. I want my hair to look just like this.” She held out the picture.
“Well, we will see what we can do,” said the woman behind the counter. She gave Nancy a blue smock to wear over her clothes. “Your hairdresser will be Emilia, and she will be with you very soon.”
Nancy sat down in the special haircutting chair. She swung
her feet back and forth. Then I spun her around for awhile.
Finally Emilia stepped over to us. “Hi, there,” she said.
“Hi,” we replied. And Nancy said, “Can you cut my hair just like this?” She remembered to add, “Please?”
“Certainly,” said Emilia. “First, Caitlin will wash your hair.”
Nancy left with Caitlin. When she came back, her hair was wet.
Snip, snip, snip. The scissors clipped away. Nancy’s hair fell to the floor, bit by bit. At first I closed my eyes. I just could not help thinking about Gloriana’s House of Hair. I did not want Nancy to look like a squirrel, too. But when I opened my eyes, I smiled. Nancy smiled back at me in the mirror.
Her hair looked great so far.
Emilia saw us smiling at each other. “What do you think?” she asked.
“Great,” I said.
“Perfect,” said Nancy.
Her long hair was getting shorter and shorter. Soon it was shorter than Hannie’s. (But not as short as my squirrel haircut.)
Finally Emilia said, “There you go, hon. A good old-fashioned pageboy. Your hair will look even prettier when your bangs grow out a little.”
Nancy and I did not know what a pageboy was. But we did not care. Nancy’s hair looked fantastic. And she really did look just like the girl in the magazine. Also, she looked older.
“How much older?” Nancy asked me as we were leaving.
“At least nine,” I replied.
Nancy grinned. “Excellent!” she exclaimed.
Caught
Addie and I did not want to lose our patrol badges. We did not want to be kicked out of the Red Brigade. But we did want to know what those fifth-grade girls were doing.
“I am sure they are the thieves,” said Addie.
“Me too,” I replied.
“And I want to catch them.”
“Me too. I do not think anyone would mind that we spied — if we caught the thieves,” I said.
So Addie and I came up with a plan. We decided we would spy one at a time. While Addie spied, I would stay at our patrol post. And while I spied, Addie would stay at our patrol post.