For Allison Poulos
Contents
Title Page
Dedication
1 The Stoneybrook News
2 The Two-Two Summer
3 The Boring Newspaper
4 Karen’s Newspaper
5 The 3M Gazette
6 Reporters
7 Andrew’s School
8 Writers
9 Paperboys
10 Privacy
11 After-shave
12 Across and Down
13 The Supermarket Papers
14 Psychic Mom Saves Son from Bigfoot
15 The Funny Papers
16 Getting It Right
17 Games Day
18 Too Much Work
19 Miss Jewel
20 The Children’s Page
About the Author
Also Available
Copyright
The Stoneybrook News
“Mommy! Andrew is doing it again! He is saying it wrong. He is calling the grapes ‘gapes.’ That is not the right name.”
“Karen, don’t worry about it,” said Mommy. “When Andrew is ready, he will say ‘grapes.’ After all, you used to call ice cream ‘ackaminnie,’ and you do not say that anymore.”
“Thank goodness,” I replied.
I am Karen Brewer. I am seven. I can read and write. Andrew is my brother. He is only four. He goes to preschool. Actually, when school starts in September, he will be going to a different preschool than the one he went to last year. That sounds very exciting. I just love new things. I love school, too. Especially my school. It is called Stoneybrook Academy. My two best friends go to Stoneybrook Academy with me. But right now we are having summer vacation. (I like vacation, too.)
Andrew and I were at our mother’s house. It was a Thursday afternoon. Mommy had invited a friend over. She and her friend were going to have iced tea and fresh fruit on the back porch. Mommy said that was perfect for a hot summer day. She also said Andrew and I could join them, as long as we let them have a nice visit. She meant we should not squabble or whine or be pests. Andrew said he would rather paint pictures at the easel. But I wanted to meet Mommy’s friend. She is a writer.
Mommy’s friend is Mrs. Halsey. I waited until she was seated on the porch. I waited until Mommy had poured her a glass of iced tea. Then I said in a very grown-up voice, “So tell me, Mrs. Halsey. What kind of writing do you do?”
Mrs. Halsey smiled. “I write for our newspaper, Karen,” she replied. “I write articles for the Stoneybrook News.”
“You do?” I exclaimed. Boy. That was interesting. Everybody here in Stoneybrook, Connecticut, reads the Stoneybrook News. Well, the adults do. “Are you famous?” I asked Mrs. Halsey.
“I don’t know about that,” she said. “But my name is in the paper almost every week. You can find it in the masthead and also in my byline. I am a news reporter.”
“What is a masthead?” I asked. “And what is a byline?”
“I will show you.” Mrs. Halsey pulled a copy of the newspaper out of her bag. “Here is the masthead,” she said. She pointed to a box near the front of the paper. Inside the box was a list of the people who work on the paper and the jobs they do. “And here is my byline,” she went on. “Right here where it says ‘By Randi Halsey, staff writer and reporter.’ I wrote this article.”
Mrs. Halsey had turned to another page. She was pointing to an article called “Packaging Control Law Plan.” I did not know what that was, so I tried to read the article. But the words were hard. Also, the story was boring. I turned the page. I tried to read some other articles. They were just as hard and boring as Mrs. Halsey’s.
“Mrs. Halsey?” I said. “Excuse me. Excuse me, Mommy. Mrs. Halsey, the paper is kind of b — kind of, um, hard to read.”
“Well, it is really for adults,” said Mrs. Halsey.
Hmm. That did not seem fair at all.
Still, I like writing. And I have seen reporters on television. I think I would like to try being a reporter. But I guess I will have to wait until I am old enough to write boring, hard-to-read articles.
The Two-Two Summer
Andrew and I were having an interesting summer. We had done lots of things. I had been in a wedding. I had gone to overnight camp with my best friends. And Andrew and I had taken trips with our families. We have two families. We are part of a little family in Mommy’s little house, and we are part of a big family in Daddy’s big house. This is why.
When Andrew and I were much younger, we were part of just one family. Daddy, Mommy, Andrew, and me. We lived together in Daddy’s house. (It is the house he grew up in.) But Mommy and Daddy fought a lot. After awhile they decided to get a divorce. They loved Andrew and me very much, but they did not love each other anymore. So Mommy moved into a little house. It is not very far from Daddy’s house. And Andrew and I went with her.
Guess what happened after that. Mommy and Daddy got married again. But not to each other. Mommy married Seth. He is my stepfather. Daddy married Elizabeth. She is my stepmother. Now Andrew and I live with Daddy at the big house every other weekend, and on certain vacations and holidays. The rest of the time we live with Mommy at the little house.
This is my little-house family: Mommy, Seth, Andrew, me, Rocky, Midgie, and Emily Junior. Rocky and Midgie are Seth’s cat and dog. They are okay, I guess, but their names are dumb. Emily Junior is my own pet rat.
This is my big-house family: Daddy, Elizabeth, Andrew, me, Nannie, Kristy, Sam, Charlie, David Michael, Emily Michelle, Boo-Boo, Shannon, Goldfishie, and Crystal Light the Second. Nannie is Elizabeth’s mother, so she is my stepgrandmother. She helps take care of all us kids. Kristy, Sam, Charlie, and David Michael are Elizabeth’s kids from her first marriage, before she knew Daddy. They are my stepsister and stepbrothers. Kristy is thirteen and a gigundoly excellent baby-sitter. I adore Kristy. Sam and Charlie are old. They go to high school. David Michael is seven like me, but he does not go to Stoneybrook Academy. Emily Michelle is my adopted sister. Daddy and Elizabeth adopted her from the country of Vietnam. She is two and a half. (I named my rat after her.) Boo-Boo is Daddy’s cross old tomcat. Shannon is David Michael’s puppy. She is quite large for someone who is supposed to be a puppy. And last of all are Goldfishie and Crystal Light the Second. (Guess what they are.) They belong to Andrew and me. Andrew named Goldfishie.
I made up special nicknames for my brother and me. I call us Andrew Two-Two and Karen Two-Two. (I got the idea for those names from the book Jacob Two-Two Meets the Hooded Fang.) We are two-twos because we have two of so many things. We have two houses and two families, two mommies and two daddies, two cats and two dogs. I have two bicycles, one at each house. I have two stuffed kitties that look just the same — Moosie at the big house, and Goosie at the little house. I even have two pieces of Tickly, my special blanket. Plus, Andrew and I have clothes and books and toys at each house. This is helpful because we go back and forth a lot, but we do not have to pack much each time.
Guess what else I have two of. Best friends. (The ones who go to school with me, remember?) They are Nancy Dawes and Hannie Papadakis. Nancy lives next door to Mommy. Hannie lives across the street from Daddy and one house down. I am lucky to have a best friend nearby, no matter which family I’m living with. In fact, I think I am mostly very lucky. I love both of my families a lot. And I know they love me.
The Boring Newspaper
Yawn, yawn, yawn.
It was Saturday morning and I could lie in bed for as long as I wanted. But I was at the big house, so I did not want to lie around for too long. I like to get up and see what’s going on. The big house is an interesting place. Especially if you like people and animals.
I peered at the clock in my room. Seven-thirty. Not everyone would be aw
ake yet. Certain people like to sleep late.
I tiptoed downstairs and into the kitchen. I saw Daddy, Elizabeth, Nannie, and Andrew.
“Morning, everybody,” I said cheerfully.
“Good morning,” they replied.
And Andrew said, “This cereal box is really interesting.” Andrew is very proud because he can read. I am proud, too. I taught him myself.
I sat down at the table. I popped a slice of bread in the toaster.
Rattle, rattle. All the grown-ups were reading newspapers. They were reading three different papers. The sections they were not reading were lying on the counter. I took a couple of sections for myself. I read the headlines while I waited for my toast. “School Budget Cuts Increase,” said one. (I thought that article might be interesting because “school” was in the title, but I was wrong.) “Community Leaders Rally for Trip to Capital” looked interesting, too, but it turned out not to be a story about a field trip.
I could not find anything interesting in the papers.
While I ate my toast, I looked around the table. Andrew was still reading the cereal box. The grown-ups were still reading the papers. Finally I stood up. I found my copy of Henry and Ribsy by Beverly Cleary. I sat down with it. Now I could read, too.
“Elizabeth,” said Daddy a few minutes later, “these budget cuts are appalling. Did you read this article?”
“Yes,” said Elizabeth, “and you are right. We need a new school board.”
“Who here has read Henry and Ribsy?” I asked. (No one heard me.)
“Look at this,” said Nannie. “The mayor of the town of Lawrenceville has okayed a site for a dump.”
“I bet the residents are unhappy,” said Daddy.
“Ribsy is a dog, in case anyone does not know,” I said.
“You know what’s wrong with this world?” asked Nannie.
“Yes,” I replied. “The newspapers are gigundoly boring.”
This time everyone heard me. They laughed.
“Sorry, Karen,” said Daddy. “We did not mean to ignore you and Andrew.”
“That’s all right,” I replied. “But these papers really are boring.”
“I think they are written for adults,” said Elizabeth.
“That is what Mrs. Halsey told me,” I said.
“Kids can read other things,” remarked Andrew. “Like cereal boxes.”
“Or books. There are plenty of books for kids,” I said.
Nannie stood up. She carried her plate to the sink. “What is everybody going to do today?” she asked.
“I am going to work in the garden,” said Daddy.
“I need to run errands,” said Elizabeth.
“Can I invite a friend over?” Andrew wanted to know.
“I think so,” said Daddy. “Who do you have in mind?”
“Ryan. He went to my old school.”
“Great,” said Daddy. “You can call him as soon as you finish eating.”
That was nice, I thought. Soon Andrew would make new friends at his new school. And he could still see his old friends. I decided to invite my two best friends over.
Karen’s Newspaper
My two best friends could not come over. At least not right away. Hannie had gone to the dentist, and nobody answered when I telephoned Nancy.
The big house was a busy place. Sam and Charlie ran around making plans. Then they left in the Junk Bucket. (That is the name of Charlie’s car.) Kristy invited her friends Mary Anne and Stacey over. They closed themselves into the den and would not come out. I think they were calling boys on the phone. David Michael ran across the street to look for Linny Papadakis. (Linny is Hannie’s older brother.) Then he and Linny came back. They tossed a football around in the yard. And Ryan showed up to play with Andrew. They ran through the sprinkler in their swimming trunks.
I waited for Hannie. I called Nancy again. No answer. So I dragged all those newspapers onto the front steps. I sat down with them. I decided something interesting must be in them somewhere.
I turned the pages slowly. I saw headlines with words in them like “government” and “politics” and “dynamics” and “courtroom.” I saw ads for furniture and grown-up clothes. I saw lists of cars and houses for sale. Boring, boring, boring.
And then I saw it. A crossword puzzle! At last — something for kids. I leaped to my feet. I ran inside and all the way upstairs to my room. I looked through my desk for a pencil. (Doing a crossword puzzle with a pen is not a good idea. If you make a mistake, it is very hard to erase ink.) I found a pencil with a good eraser. Then I raced back to the crossword puzzle. The squares in it were very tiny. I would have to use my smallest, neatest printing. But that was okay.
The first Across clue was “Father of Cubism.” Huh? I skipped to the next Across clue. It said, “A rite of passage.” (Somebody had spelled “right” wrong.) Well, boo and bullfrogs. This puzzle was no fun. (Plus, the newspaper people could not spell.) In school we work on puzzles with clues like “Tiny picnic pests” or “What birds live in.”
The newspaper even had boring crossword puzzles. I could not believe it.
“What are you doing?”
I looked up. Hannie was running across the yard.
“Hi!” I called. “I am trying to enjoy this paper, but I cannot. It is just for grownups. Even the puzzle. Look. I could not fill in one space.”
Hannie stood there with her hands on her hips. She opened her mouth.
I opened my mouth.
And at the exact same time we said, “Let’s start our own newspaper!”
We giggled.
Then I said, “We could, you know. We could do that.”
“Don’t we need grown-ups?” asked Hannie.
“Grown-ups are the last thing we need,” I told her. “This will be a kids’ newspaper. By kids and for kids.” I paused. “I know just what to do.”
“What?” asked Hannie.
“First we need to get the third Musketeer. Let’s call Nancy.”
We telephoned her again, and this time Nancy was at home.
“We are starting a kids’ newspaper,” I told her. “Hannie and I just had the idea. Do you want to help us?”
“Sure!” cried Nancy. “What do I do?”
“Can your mom or dad drive you to the big house?” I asked.
“I think so.”
“Great. We will start as soon as you get here.”
The 3M Gazette
Nancy and Hannie and I had lots to talk about. We sat under a tree in the backyard. (We sat far away from the sprinkler.)
“What will we write about in our newspaper?” asked Hannie.
“News. What else?” I replied.
“I know. But what news? Where will we get the news?”
“My parents get their news out of the grown-up newspaper,” said Nancy.
“Well, we are not going to get our news from there,” I said. “We will get it from wherever the newspaper people get it.”
“I think they get it from reporters,” said Hannie.
“We can be reporters!” cried Nancy.
“Yes!” I said. “We will report the news ourselves.”
“The news from where?” asked Hannie.
“The news from right here. Our kids’ paper will be for the big-house neighborhood. Everything that is happening here.”
“We can talk to people in the neighborhood,” added Nancy. “We can go to their doors and say we are writing a kids’ paper, and ask if they have any interesting news for us.”
“Plus, if something exciting happens, we can be on the scene,” I added. “We will take notes and ask questions.”
“Probing questions,” said Nancy.
“Is our kids’ paper going to be only about kids?” asked Hannie.
I thought for a moment. “No,” I said at last. “It will be written by kids, and it will be interesting for kids to read. But it can be about kids or grown-ups or animals or anything.”
“That’s good,” said Hannie. “Becau
se I know some news about my father that we can put in the paper. We will not even have to go door-to-door for this story. I can just tell it to you, and then we can write about it.”
“That’s a great idea!” I exclaimed. “I know something about Charlie.”
“And I know something about Mr. Billing,” said Nancy. “Do you know the Billings? They live right down the street, so they are in this neighborhood.”
“You know what we need to do next?” said Hannie. “We need to think of a name for our newspaper. What will we call it?”
“The Neighborhood News?” suggested Nancy.
“The Stoneybrook Times?” I suggested.
Hannie frowned. “Those names are okay, but they are not special. They sound like names for any old paper.”
“Maybe we need a name that says something about kids,” I said.
“Or about us,” said Hannie.
“How about The 3M Gazette?” suggested Nancy.
“Three Em?” repeated Hannie.
“For the Three Musketeers.”
“Perfect!” I cried. “Now for our jobs. We need someone to be a reporter, someone to be a writer, and someone to print the paper.”
“I want to do everything,” said Nancy.
“Me too,” said Hannie.
We decided we would all be reporters and writers and printers.
“Where are we going to print the paper?” wondered Hannie.
“At the big house,” I replied. “We can use the word processor. I use it a lot. Sam or Charlie or Kristy can help us if we get stuck. We can print out the copies on the printer. Then we will deliver one to each house in the neighborhood. I think our paper should be free.”
Guess what. David Michael and Linny ran to us then and asked what we were doing. We told them about our paper. Then they asked if they could help us. So we said they could be our paperboys.
Reporters
We did not waste a second. Nancy and Hannie and I went right to work. We decided that we would be reporters that very afternoon.
“I think we should look like reporters, too,” said Hannie. “People will take us more seriously if we do. They will give us better news.”
Karen's Newspaper Page 1