Karen's Bully

by Ann M. Martin

  “Robert Gianelli! Where did you get that?” I yelled.

  “Same place you got my underwear. Off the clothesline. I mean, off your clothesline, not ours.”

  “You have Baby Minnie underwear?” said Pamela.

  “Traitor,” I muttered.

  The boys were giggling hysterically. I could not believe they were seeing my underwear. I especially could not believe they were seeing my pink Baby Minnie underwear with the ruffles.

  The whole class was laughing, except for Hannie and Nancy. The Musketeers would not laugh. They are true and loyal friends.

  Hannie poked me. “Don’t worry, Karen,” she said. “I know how to get Bobby to quit flying your underwear.” She raised her voice. “Here comes Ms. Colman!”

  Everyone ran for their desks. Bobby pulled my underwear off the stick. I snatched it from him. I shoved it in my backpack.

  “Fake out, Bobby!” exclaimed Hannie. “Ms. Colman is not really coming yet.”

  But Bobby was still grinning. He had gotten me, and he knew it.

  A few minutes later Ms. Colman really did come into our room.

  “Good morning, girls and boys,” she said. “Please settle down.”

  I flumped into my chair. Next to me, Ricky was sitting quietly. As usual, he would not look at me. He just would not take sides. I let out a sigh. I wanted to tell Ms. Colman what Bobby had done. I wanted to tell her how mean he had been. I wanted to say, “Ms. Colman, Bobby embarrassed me. He waved my underwear around the room, so everyone could see it.”

  But I could not say that. If I did, Ms. Colman would say, “Bobby, why did you do that?” And Bobby would answer, “Because Karen did the same thing to me yesterday.” I did not want to get into trouble.

  At lunchtime, Pamela started calling me Minnie. By recess, my whole class was calling me Minnie (except for Nancy and Hannie and Ricky).

  Boo. Boo on everyone. When school ended and Mommy had driven me home, I went straight to my room. I decided maybe I would never come out.

  Andrew

  Andrew changed my mind.

  I had been in my room for one hour and six minutes. I had already made up two rules about never leaving my room. 1. I would never leave my room except to go to the bathroom. 2. One other time I could leave my room would be to go to the big house. Then I would stay in my big-house bedroom.

  I was not yet sure what to do about school.

  That was when Andrew interrupted me. He knocked on my door. “Karen?” he called. “Karen? Can I come in?”

  “Okay,” I answered. (I had not invented any rules about people coming into my room.) “The door is open,” I added.

  Andrew stepped inside. He closed the door carefully behind him. Then he sat in my armchair. “Why are you mad at me?” he asked.

  “Mad?” I repeated. “At you?”

  Andrew nodded. “You were cross in the car when Mommy and I picked you up at school. You called me a twerp. And then you didn’t eat a snack with me. We always have a snack when you come home from school. Also, you slammed your door. How come you are mad?”

  “Oh, Andrew,” I said. “You would not understand.”

  “How do you know?”

  I shrugged. “Okay. I will tell you. I am mad, Andrew. But not at you.”

  “You act mad at me,” said my brother.

  “I know. But I am mad at Bully Bobby.”

  “Then why don’t you call him a twerp, and slam a door in his face?”

  “I would if Bobby lived here,” I replied.

  “Did Bobby do something to you today?” asked Andrew.

  “Bobby and I are at war.”

  “Really?” Andrew looked impressed.

  “Yes. Remember the goof calls he made during my slumber party? Well, after that I decided to show him who is the best bully. So I declared war on Bobby. That was the you-know-what Amanda was talking about. That was my secret. Bobby and I had an underwear war.”

  “What is an underwear war?” Andrew wanted to know.

  I told my brother about the clothesline and Bobby’s underwear. Then I told him how Bobby had made a flag out of my Baby Minnie underwear.

  “Uh-oh,” said Andrew.

  “You know what the worst part is?” I asked. “The worst part is that I do not know what to do next. But I have to get back at Bobby. I cannot let him win the war. If I do, he will keep teasing me. He will keep teasing you, too, Andrew,” I added.

  “Karen? Are you having the Underwear War because of me?”

  “Partly,” I admitted. I did not want Andrew to think he was trouble or anything, but … “I have to stick up for you,” I said.

  Andrew narrowed his eyes. “I can stick up for myself,” he announced.

  “You can? Are you sure?”

  “No,” said Andrew. “But I better try.”

  Andrew stood up. He marched toward my door.

  “Hey, where are you going?” I called.

  “To my own room. I have to think.”

  That was when I changed my mind about never leaving my room. Andrew was going to do something and I had to know what it was. He could not go around doing things without me. He needed me to protect him. After all, I am his big sister. I followed Andrew to his room. I sat with him while he thought. I was glad I had decided I could leave my room.

  Snake Attack

  Andrew was very quiet during the next few days. I knew he was still thinking. But Mommy did not. She kept saying, “What is the matter, Andrew? Do you feel all right?” She felt his forehead a lot.

  I had different questions for Andrew. “What are you going to do?” I asked. “Are you going to do something to Bobby?”

  Andrew would just shake his head. Or sometimes he would say, “I don’t know.” Then he would think some more.

  * * *

  On Saturday, Nancy and I were sitting on the front steps at the little house. Andrew was in the yard. A couple of kids had come by. They were tossing around a beach ball with Andrew.

  “What do you think of Cassie?” asked Nancy.

  “Who’s Cassie?” I replied.

  “No, I mean Cassie as a name for the baby. If it’s a girl.”

  “Oh. Cassie is nice. I like — uh-oh.”

  “What’s wrong?” said Nancy.

  “Bobby is coming.”

  Nancy and I watched Bobby. He marched down the sidewalk. The little kids stopped playing. They watched Bobby, too. Bobby marched right onto our lawn and straight to Andrew. He did not look at Nancy and me.

  “Hi, pip-squeak,” said Bobby to Andrew.

  “Hi,” Andrew replied in a tiny voice. The other kids hung back.

  “I guess you have seen the bees by now,” said Bobby. “They are here, you know. They are in the neighborhood.”

  “The killer bees?” asked Andrew.

  Bobby folded his arms across his chest. “Yup.”

  A couple of Andrew’s friends backed away. But Andrew said, “Well, I guess you have seen the snake by now.”

  Nancy and I glanced at each other. “What snake?” I whispered.

  “What snake?” asked Bobby.

  “The python,” my brother answered. “The giant, escaped python. It is on the loose. It escaped from someone’s house. It could be hiding anywhere. Pythons like basements, you know. And this python has huge, sharp teeth. You better get ready for a snake attack. You better be prepared.”

  “Pythons do not bite,” said Bobby. “They squeeze.”

  “This one bites and squeezes,” replied Andrew. And then, quick as a wink, he pulled a rubber snake out of his pocket. He flung it at Bobby.

  Bobby’s eyes grew round. He screamed and jumped back. Then he turned angrily to me. “You see?” he cried. “You see? This is why I did not want to move. I liked my old house, where we did not have to worry about snake attacks. I never wanted to move. You guys are lucky, Karen. You and Andrew. You did not have to leave your old house for good. You get to go back and forth. I cannot go back to my old house.” Bobby was almost crying.r />
  While he was talking, I was remembering something. I was remembering Amanda and how she had not wanted to move. Melody, either. Amanda and Melody missed their old houses. I guessed that moving is not easy. I also guessed that Bobby teased me about my two houses because he really was jealous. Bobby wished he could live in his new house and his old house. That way, he would not have to leave his old house for good.

  “Bobby — ” I started to say. I stood up.

  But Andrew interrupted me. “Wait. There is no snake, Bobby,” he said. He put the rubber one back in his pocket. “I made up that story. I wanted to scare you.”

  Andrew’s friends had gathered around him. They edged closer to Bobby. They stood with their hands on their hips. “Tell us about the killer bees, Bobby,” said one.

  Andrew and Alicia

  Nancy and I joined Andrew and Bobby and the other kids. I almost said, “Yeah, tell us about the killer bees,” but I did not. I could tell that Bobby already felt horrible.

  “Um,” began Bobby, “there are no killer bees. I made that up, too. And — and I also made up the story about Karen’s glasses. Martians do not really spy on us through them. You do not have to be afraid of Karen’s glasses, Andrew.”

  “Okay,” said my brother. He began to walk away.

  “Andrew? Don’t you want to say something to Bobby?” I asked.

  “What?” said Andrew.

  “You know.”

  Andrew shook his head, so I leaned over and whispered to him. Then Andrew made a face. But finally he said, “I’m sorry, Bobby.”

  Bobby kicked at a pebble. “Yeah. Okay. I’m sorry, too.”

  “I’m sorry, three,” I added. “I am sorry about your underwear.”

  “Yeah,” agreed Bobby. “I’m sorry about your underwear, Karen.” (I thought Bobby was going to say, “I’m sorry it is so ugly and babyish.” But he did not. I bet he wanted to, though.)

  “Are you sorry about the goof calls?” I asked.

  Nancy nudged me. “Karen!”

  “Well, I want to know if he’s sorry.”

  “Yeah. I am sorry about everything. Okay?”

  “Okay.”

  * * *

  Bobby went home then, but that afternoon he came back. Nancy and the other kids had gone home. Andrew and I were playing indoors.

  When the doorbell rang, Andrew raced to answer it.

  “Yikes!” I heard him cry. “Bobby is here!”

  Andrew and I opened the front door. There was Bobby. Standing behind him was his little sister.

  “Hi,” said Bobby. “You guys, this is Alicia. She is four. Like you, Andrew. Do you and Alicia want to play?”

  “We-ell,” said Andrew. (Sometimes he does not like girls.)

  “Alicia does not know any of the kids around here,” Bobby went on. “I thought you might know some other four-years-olds. Alicia wants a friend.”

  “Maybe you could show her around,” I said to Andrew.

  “Maybe.” Andrew inspected Alicia. Then he said, “How old are you really?”

  “Four. I am really four. I just had my birthday.”

  Andrew grinned. “Oh! Well, I am almost five. So I am older than you. Okay, I will show you around. Come on with me.”

  Andrew stepped outside. He led Alicia down our front walk. Bobby and I looked at each other through the screen door.

  “Well,” said Bobby. “ ’Bye.”

  “Wait a second. I have an idea,” I told him. “Come inside.”

  Bobby followed me into the kitchen. “What are you going to do?”

  I picked up the phone. “Call Ricky,” I replied. “Maybe he can come over. Then we could play together. All three of us.”

  So I phoned Ricky, and soon his father drove him to the little house. When Ricky got out of the car he saw Bobby and me. We were waiting for him. Together. And we were not fighting.

  Ricky grinned. He waved to us. “I’m here!” he called.

  I shouted hello to my husband.

  Then Ricky and Bobby and I played marbles. We played all afternoon.

  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 © 1992 by Ann M. Martin

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  First edition, 1992

  e-ISBN 978-1-338-05631-0