Karen's Big Lie
Page 4
It was time to talk to Ms. Colman.
The Truth
I did not get to talk to Ms. Colman until lunchtime. After she collected our quizzes, she put them in a pile on her desk. Then she took us to the library for story hour. After that, we worked on our weather instruments. And after that came lunchtime.
“Please line up at the door,” said Ms. Colman.
I stood up very slowly so I could be the last person on line. Pamela was at the head of the line. She led our class past Ms. Colman and down the hall. (Sometimes we are allowed to walk to the cafeteria by ourselves.) But I did not go out the door. When I reached Ms. Colman, I said, “May I talk to you, please?”
“Of course,” replied my teacher.
Ms. Colman sat at her desk and I sat across from her at mine.
“I have to tell you something,” I said. “I have been copying from Ricky when we take our quizzes. That is why I have been doing so well. I know I should not copy, but the quizzes are so hard. I cannot work fast enough. I still count on my fingers.”
I told Ms. Colman the whole story — everything I had done, and all my secrets. I even told her about the fight with Hannie and about David Michael’s tattoo. I said I hoped Ms. Colman still wanted me to be her flower girl. By the time I finished, I was crying.
Ms. Colman stood up then. She walked around to my desk and put her arm across my shoulders. “I am glad you told me the truth, Karen,” she said. “And I’m sorry you have had such a hard time. I want you to understand something, though. When you cheat, who do you hurt the most?” She looked at me very seriously.
“Myself,” I whispered.
“And what happens when you lie?”
“You have to tell bigger and bigger lies. It never ends!” I exclaimed.
“That’s right. Karen, I also want you to remember something,” Ms. Colman went on. “You are the youngest student in this class. You have skipped a grade. You skipped because you are very smart. But do not expect everything to be easy for you.”
“All right,” I said. (I was feeling gigundoly better.) “When I go home today,” I added, “I will tell Mommy what I did. I will call Daddy and tell him, too.”
“Good for you,” said Ms. Colman. “I will also call your parents. And Karen, of course I still want you to be my flower girl.”
I talked to Mommy as soon as I came home from school. I told her almost everything. (I did not tell her about the tattoo. That was a big-house problem.) Mommy looked as serious as Ms. Colman had looked.
Guess what. Ms. Colman telephoned while Mommy and I were still talking. They had a very long conversation. When they hung up, Mommy said she wanted to talk to Seth when he came home from work.
I spent the afternoon looking at my flashcards. Finally I called Daddy at the big house. (I had to wait until he came home from work.) I told him what I had done. Then I said I wanted to talk to Elizabeth, too. When she picked up the phone, I said, “Daddy, Elizabeth, I do not want to keep bad secrets ever again. So I have to tell you what David Michael did. I am sorry if this is tattling, but I think you should know that David Michael got a tattoo. He did it even after you told him not to.”
“What?” cried Daddy and Elizabeth.
Then Elizabeth dropped the phone and went looking for my brother. “You will not believe this,” she said when she came back. “David Michael did get a tattoo. But not a real one. He did not go to a tattoo parlor. He rubbed a temporary tattoo on his arm. He showed me where it was. He barely washed that arm for weeks. Even so, the tattoo finally faded away. It is gone now.”
More Truth
I wished my problems were gone like David Michael’s tattoo. But they were not. In fact, the only thing I did not get in trouble for was telling on David Michael. Daddy and Elizabeth said they understood why I had done that. They said nobody should have to keep bad secrets. (I think David Michael got in an intsy bit of trouble for putting on the fake tattoo when he was not supposed to get any tattoo.)
But Mommy and Seth said I needed a punishment for cheating and lying. Daddy and Elizabeth said the same thing. And Ms. Colman said I needed extra math help.
Boo and bullfrogs.
I knew they were right, though. I also knew I had to tell the truth to two more people. Hannie and Ricky. Plus, I needed to apologize to them. I had lied to Hannie, and I had almost gotten Ricky in trouble. (I could not believe how big my mess had become.)
These were my punishments: Mommy and Seth said no TV for two entire weeks. Daddy and Elizabeth said no allowance for two weeks. Then Ms. Colman suggested that since I would not be watching TV, I could study my flash cards instead. I was supposed to study them each day with a grown-up.
The day after I told the truth to Ms. Colman was a Friday. I asked Seth if he could take me to school a few minutes early. I wanted to have time to talk to Ricky. When Seth dropped me off at Stoneybrook Academy, I went straight to my classroom. I waited for Ricky.
As soon as I saw him, I said, “Ricky, could I talk to you, please? In private? It is important.”
“Okay,” replied Ricky (even though he wanted to play Kleenex tag with Bobby and Hank).
I led Ricky to the back of the room. We stood by the sink. “Ricky,” I said, “I have to tell you something. I have been copying your math quizzes. Ms. Colman knows about it. I told her yesterday.”
“You copied?” exclaimed Ricky. “From my papers? How many times?”
“Well, a lot,” I admitted.
“So that is why we kept getting the same grades,” said Ricky. “No fair, Karen! You know, Ms. Colman thought I was cheating.”
“Not anymore. She knows the truth.”
“Boy,” said Ricky. He shook his head. “How am I supposed to trust you now? Are you going to copy from me again?”
“Never,” I answered. “Never ever. I promise.”
“Okay. Then I forgive you. After all, you are my wife.”
Ricky and Bobby and Hank started their game of Kleenex tag then. (It is a very silly, made-up game.) I waited for Hannie to come in. I wanted to talk to her next. But by the time Ms. Colman was taking attendance, Hannie had still not arrived.
“She has a cold,” Nancy said. “I talked to her last night.”
(I heard Pamela whisper to Leslie, “I bet she caught it from Ricky.”)
“Oh, that is too bad,” said Ms. Colman. “Because I have good news for her. And for someone else in this room. I would like to announce the winners of the ice-cream sundaes. They are Ricky and Hannie. Congratulations to both of you.” Ms. Colman gave Ricky his coupon.
I raised my hand then. “Ms. Colman?” I said. “If you want, I could give Hannie her coupon. I will be seeing her this weekend.” (I did not add that I would be seeing her because I had to say a very big “I’m sorry” to my best friend.)
The Picnic
I was standing on Hannie’s doorstep. It was Friday afternoon. Mommy had just taken Andrew and me to Daddy’s. We were there for a big-house weekend. And the next day we would go to Elizabeth’s company picnic.
I waited nervously for someone to answer the door. In my hand was Hannie’s coupon. In my mind was an invitation for her.
The door opened. Hannie stood in front of me.
“Karen!” she exclaimed.
“Hi. How are you feeling?”
“Better. I think I will be all well tomorrow.”
“That’s good. I have something for you.” I held out the coupon. “It is from Ms. Colman. You won a free ice-cream sundae at the Rosebud Cafe. So did Ricky. I told Ms. Colman I would give this to you.”
“Thanks,” said Hannie. She took the coupon.
“Hannie, could I come in, please? I need to talk to you.”
Hannie let out this gigundo sigh. But she did let me in. We went to her room. We sat on her bed.
“Okay,” I began. “You were right, Hannie. I did copy from Ricky. I copied lots of times. Ms. Colman knows now. So do my parents. I told them yesterday. I got in a lot of trouble. And I apologized t
o Ricky this morning. Now I want to apologize to you. I am sorry I copied. I am sorry I lied to you. And I am very, very sorry we had a fight.”
Hannie glanced at me. “Is our fight over?” she asked.
“I hope so,” I replied.
“Oh, good,” said Hannie. “I missed talking to you.”
“And I missed talking to you…. Hannie? If you knew I was copying from Ricky, why didn’t you tell Ms. Colman?”
Hannie shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess I wanted you to do it yourself. But if you had not done that soon, I probably would have told on you. I am glad you told, though.”
“Yeah,” I agreed. “I got into a huge mess, but I learned my lesson. I learned lots of lessons.” I stood up. It was time to go home for supper. Then I remembered something. “Hey, Hannie, guess what. Tomorrow my big-house family is going to a huge picnic. Daddy and Elizabeth said I could invite you. Do you want to come with us?”
“Sure!” exclaimed Hannie. “Just let me check with my parents.”
* * *
I have never seen so much food in my life. Except maybe at a grocery store. This is what was served at the picnic on Saturday — hamburgers, hot dogs, chicken, fruit salad, regular salad, deviled eggs, pie, and ice cream. The food was spread out on long tables.
We did not eat right away. We played games first.
Hannie and I tied our legs together for the three-legged race. We ran five steps before we fell down. Andrew and David Michael were behind us. They fell on top of us.
“Yikes!” cried Hannie. (We were all laughing.)
“Boy, is it hot today,” said David Michael as we tried to stand up. He pulled off his shirt.
“Hey, show Hannie your — ” I started to say. I peered at David Michael’s shoulder. “Where is the dragon?” I asked him.
“All gone,” he replied.
“So it really did fade away.”
“Yup.”
“Are you going to put on another?”
“No way,” said my brother. “The dragon was cool, but I did not like keeping him a secret. Some secrets are no fun.”
“You’re not kidding,” I said. Then I turned to Hannie. “Come on! They are going to start the potato sack race. Let’s go!”
I took Hannie’s hand, and we ran across the grass together.
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 © 1993 by Ann M. Martin
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First edition, 1993
e-ISBN 978-1-338-05650-1