Dear Maxie,
How are you? I am fine.
Your pen pal,
Karen
The Winner!
“On your mark, get set, GO!” yelled Nancy.
I ran as fast as I could. I ran straight across the blacktop part of our school playground. I ran so fast I felt as if I were flying.
When I ran past Hannie, she clicked off the stopwatch.
“How fast was I?” I called.
“Eight seconds!” she replied.
Not bad. I had run the 50-yard dash in 8 seconds. That was how fast Meanie Maxie could run 50 yards. And it was faster than Hannie or Nancy could run the dash. I was the fastest Musketeer.
“You’re the winner!” Nancy said to me.
My friends and I were practicing for the Sports Celebration. I had decided I would enter the running events. The 50-yard dash was my best event. Maybe I could even beat Maxie.
“One more time!” I cried. “Time me one more time, you guys.”
“Aw, Karen, I’m tired of practicing,” said Hannie. “Let’s do something different. Recess is almost over.”
“I’m tired of practicing, too,” said Nancy.
Hannie and Nancy trotted over to me. Hannie put the stopwatch in her pocket. Then we linked arms. The Three Musketeers walked slowly around the playground. After awhile we sat on the swings.
“Pen Pal Day is almost here,” said Hannie. “I will get to meet Jen.”
“And I will get to meet Eli,” said Nancy. “Eli lives on the twenty-seventh floor of his apartment building. Can you imagine living so high up? He says when he looks out of his bedroom window he can see the Empire State Building and the tops of the Twin Towers. He can even see New Jersey.”
“Cool!” exclaimed Hannie. “Can he see the Statue of Liberty?”
Nancy frowned. “I do not think so. The statue is too little.”
“Oh. Jen cannot see it, either, but she has been to it four times,” said Hannie. “And last Saturday she ate at a restaurant called Rumpelmayer’s. She ate a hot fudge sundae.”
“Rumpelmayer’s?” said Nancy. She giggled. “Are you sure it wasn’t called Rumpelstiltskin’s? Like in the fairy tale?”
Hannie laughed, too. “No. Rumpelmayer’s. Jen likes the desserts there.”
For a few moments, we were quiet. We swung back and forth. Then Hannie said, “Karen, tell us again — what is Maxie’s whole name?”
“Maxine Louisa Medvin,” I replied.
“Maxine Louisa,” Nancy repeated. “That is a beautiful name.”
I shrugged. “I guess.”
“Did you get a picture of Maxie?” asked Hannie.
“Yup.”
“You never showed it to us.”
I shrugged again. “It must be at home.”
“Eli wears glasses,” Nancy commented.
“Jen has braids,” said Hannie.
I nodded. I did not feel like talking about Maxie. I had not told my friends that Maxie and I had bragged to each other. I had not told them about my lies — about Hootie or the castle or anything. I was pretty sure Nancy had not lied to Eli, and Hannie had not lied to Jen. I wished I could be excited about Pen Pal Day, like my friends were, but I just was not.
I wished Pen Pal Day were already over.
The bell rang then. “Come on, you guys,” I said. “Let’s go inside.”
“Here They Come!”
I was standing in front of my closet. I had been looking in it for about five minutes. I decided I had no cool clothes.
“What am I going to wear today?” I whined.
It was Pen Pal Day. In a few hours I would meet Maxie. I knew she would look very, very trendy and cool. And older.
I wanted to look cool and older, too. (I still had not told Maxie I had just turned seven. What a mess.) How could I look cool, though? I did not own a beret like Maxie’s. I did not have contacts and pierced ears.
Okay, I said to myself. Maybe I cannot look cool. Maybe I cannot look older. But I can get dressed up.
“Mommy!” I called.
Mommy came into my bedroom. “Karen, why aren’t you dressed yet?”
“I am still choosing,” I answered. “Mommy, today is a special day at school. It is Pen Pal Day. May I wear a party outfit? I want to look nice.”
“Okay,” said Mommy.
I put on my fancy flowery dress with the big white collar. I put on pink tights and black Mary Jane shoes. I tied a huge pink ribbon in my hair. Then I added some jewelry — a ring from the dentist, and even a pair of clip-on earrings that Mommy had given me for dress-up. I was a Lovely Lady.
That morning I walked proudly into my classroom. The first thing I noticed was that nobody else had gotten dressed up.
Hannie was wearing a jean skirt and a T-shirt.
Nancy was wearing leggings and a long sweat shirt.
Ricky was wearing sweat pants and a turtleneck shirt.
Almost everyone was wearing sneakers. (I had sort of forgotten about our Sports Celebration and the 50-yard dash. I had never tried running the 50-yard dash in my party shoes.)
The second I walked into my classroom, Bobby yelled, “Yo, Karen!”
“Hi,” I replied.
“What are you so dressed up for?”
“Yeah,” said Hank. “Are you going to a party? Or to a ball?”
“Very funny,” I said. I ignored everyone.
Except for Hannie and Nancy.
“I think you look pretty,” said Hannie.
“Me, too,” said Nancy.
“Thank you.” (I was glad they had not asked me how I would run races.)
“Boys and girls, please sit down,” said Ms. Colman, just as the bell rang.
We scrambled for our seats.
“Are you ready for your big day?” she asked us.
“Yes!” we cried.
“Are you ready to meet your pen pals?”
“Yes!”
“Are you ready for the Sports Celebration?”
“Yes!”
Pen Pal Day began. Ms. Colman took attendance. She made some announcements (regular ones). She collected homework. She read to us from a book called Just So Stories, by Mr. Rudyard Kipling.
Ms. Colman was closing the book when Ricky jumped out of his seat.
“Ricky?” she said. “Please sit down.”
But Ricky did not sit down. He was staring out the door and into the hallway. “Excuse me,” he said. “I think our pen pals are here. Yup, here they come!”
Hootie and Tootie
I closed my eyes for a few seconds. Maybe this was a bad dream. Maybe when I opened my eyes, no pen pals would be coming down the hall. Maybe I would not even be in school. Maybe —
“Hello, Miss Mandel!” I heard my teacher say.
I opened my eyes. Standing in the doorway was a woman I had never seen before, and a bunch of kids. I knew who they must be.
Oh, bullfrogs.
“Please come in,” said Ms. Colman. She turned to my classmates and me. “Boys and girls, I would like you to meet my friend Miss Mandel, and her students, your pen pals.”
Our pen pals followed Miss Mandel into the classroom. They stood by Ms. Colman’s desk. They looked like any other second-graders, even if they were from New York City. I searched their faces. When I found a redheaded girl, I knew she was Maxie. Maxie was looking back at me. I guess she recognized me, too.
Maxie and I did not smile at each other.
On Pen Pal Day our room was set up differently than usual. At every desk (even Ms. Colman’s desk) were two chairs. The pen pals were going to stick together all day.
Ms. Colman began calling out names. Soon the pairs of pen pals were sitting together. I was right next to Meanie Maxine Louisa Medvin. She had sat down without saying anything, not even hi. But the other pen pals were talking and laughing.
I decided to take a chance. “I like your shirt,” I said to Maxie. My pen pal’s shirt was very cool. It sparkled and glittered. Across the front were t
he words NEW YORK in puffy green writing.
“Thank you,” replied Maxie. “I like your, um …” (she looked at my outfit)”… your class. These girls must be your eight best friends.”
“Well, yes …”
“Hey, I brought my eraser collection,” said Maxie. “Want to see?”
“Sure.”
Maxie pulled a tin box out of her book bag. She lifted the lid. Inside were dozens of erasers — all colors, all shapes, and all designs. “Here it is,” she said.
“Cool!” I exclaimed.
Right away, Maxie began to brag. “It is even better than my shell collection. But you know what? My uncle sent me a new shell. He sent it all the way from Panama. It is a Prince Murex.”
Well, who cared about Maxie’s old Prince Murex? “I just got a new shell, too,” I said. “I got a Common Atlantic Octopus.”
(That was a big, fat lie.)
“I am going to get a Golden Moon Shell.”
“Good. Want to look around my classroom?”
“Okay. Show me Hootie. I want to see the monkey.”
Uh-oh.
I led Maxie across the room to Hootie’s cage.
“All I see is a dumb guinea pig,” said Maxie.
“I know. Hootie is … away. That is Tootie, the visiting guinea pig.” Maxie did not look very impressed, so I said, “Now I will introduce you to my best friends.” I introduced her to Nancy and Hannie.
“How about the others?” asked Maxie.
“Oh, they are all here. There is Pamela and there is Leslie and …” I pointed out the other girls in my class.
I was in such a mess. I would not make it through the day. I just knew it. Maxie was going to find out that I was a bragger and a liar.
New Friends
After my classmates and I had shown our pen pals around the room, Ms. Colman and Miss Mandel asked us to take our seats. I sat at my desk. Maxie sat next to me again.
“Well, you have finally met your pen pals,” said Ms. Colman. “You have had a chance to talk. Have you learned anything new about each other?”
“Or about how Stoneybrook Academy is different from our school?” asked Miss Mandel. “Or how it is the same?”
Right away, Maxie raised her hand. “I like Stoneybrook Academy!” she exclaimed. “It is not so different from our school. Except when you look out the windows, you see trees and bushes and grass.”
“I like Hootie,” said Eli, who was Nancy’s pen pal.
I held my breath. I was waiting for Maxie to say, “How did you get to see Hootie? He is away somewhere.” But Maxie did not say that. She had raised her hand again. She was waving it around. She was waving it just like Ricky Torres does when he cannot wait to say something.
Miss Mandel called on Maxie again. “Yes, Maxie?” she said.
“This is the funnest thing we have ever done!”
She was right. Sort of. I mean, writing to a pen pal and then getting to meet your pen pal should have been tons of fun. Plus Maxie and I really did have a lot in common.
If only she were not such a horrible bragger.
Hannie raised her hand. “Me and Jen both like to read mysteries about the Bobbsey Twins,” she said. “We both like to go to the library.”
“Could we see the library at Stoneybrook Academy?” asked Jen. “I want to see if it is like ours.”
“I think we could peek in the library,” Ms. Colman replied.
Hannie and Jen smiled at each other.
I glanced at Maxie. I was going to try smiling at her. Then I remembered about the Prince Murex and the Golden Moon Shell. I looked away.
Other kids were raising their hands.
“I can walk home from our school,” said a boy named Oliver.
“My parents drive me,” said Ricky. “I live too far away to walk.”
“Sometimes during school we play in the street,” said Naomi, who was Pamela’s pen pal. “They close off the street so no cars can drive on it. Then we have recess on the sidewalks and all over the street.”
“Don’t you have a playground?” asked Natalie Springer.
“We have a play yard, but it is not very big.”
I was curious about the play yard. I wondered what was in it. But I did not ask. Probably, Maxie would have answered my question. And she would have said the play yard had 12 jungle gyms and 35 swings and even a merry-go-round. The kind with horses.
“Where do you play baseball?” wondered Hank.
Oliver raised his hand. “In the park,” he answered. “We play stickball in the street and basketball in the yard, but we go to the park for baseball.”
“Oh,” said Hank. “We can play baseball right on our playground. I have never heard of stickball.”
“Stickball is very wonderful,” said Maxie. “But I wish we had a playground like yours. That would be so cool!”
I wished Maxie and I had not bragged to each other so much. I thought maybe we could have been good friends.
My classmates and our pen pals talked about New York City and Stoneybrook and our schools some more. When we were finished, Ms. Colman said, “Guess what, boys and girls. It is time to get ready for the Sports Celebration.”
The Sports Celebration
We walked to the gym with our pen pals, two by two by two. The kids who had not worn sneakers were carrying them. We were going to change our shoes in the gym. I walked beside Maxie. She was wearing very cool pump-up running shoes. I was carrying my tired old sneakers. I had found them in my cubby. They were not my best sneakers. But they were better than my party shoes for running around the gym.
In the gym we sat on the floor. We changed our shoes if we needed to. Then Ms. Colman said, “Boys and girls, please divide into two teams. Miss Mandel’s students, come over here and tie these red belts around your waists. My students, tie on these blue belts.”
Miss Mandel and Ms. Colman handed out the belts. They looked like karate belts. I tied my blue belt around my party dress. It did not match the pink at all. Then again, the sneakers did not match, either. They were plaid. (And they had holes at the toes.)
“Okay,” said Ms. Colman, when the teams were ready, “there will be nine events in our Sports Celebration — three running events, sit-ups, chin-ups, rope climbing, an obstacle course, jumping jacks, and the broad jump. Each of you has signed up for three events. Whichever team wins the most events will be the champions of the Sports Celebration. Is everybody ready to run fast and jump far?”
“Yes!” we yelled.
“The first event will be the broad jump,” Ms. Colman went on. “Broad jumpers, stand next to me, please.”
A bunch of kids ran to Ms. Colman. But not me, and not Maxie.
Maxie and I stood around and watched the broad jumpers.
“What are your events?” Maxie asked me.
“All the running events,” I told her. “What about yours?”
“The same. All the running events.”
Uh-oh.
My team beat Maxie’s team in the broad jump. The next event was the 50-yard dash. Maxie got to be the first runner. She dashed the 50 yards in eight and a half seconds.
Humph. Maxie had said she could dash in eight seconds.
When my turn came, I ran as fast as I could. I ran so fast I could feel wind against my face. When I crossed the finish line, my plaid sneakers were flying. I almost ran into the wall.
“Seven and a half seconds!” cried Miss Mandel. “The fastest runner yet!”
When everyone had finished dashing, Miss Mandel’s team was the winner. Still I had beaten Maxie. I felt proud of myself. But Maxie was not happy.
Later, I lined up for the 100-yard dash. So far, we had finished four events. The red team and the blue team were tied two to two.
“Karen! Your turn!” called Ms. Colman.
I set my toe at the starting mark.
Ms. Colman shouted, “GO!”
I ran and ran, but I could not feel the wind against my face. I must have been tired. I cross
ed the finish line.
“Nineteen seconds!” announced Miss Mandel.
Oh, yuck. My worst time ever.
Then Maxie dashed across the gym.
“Eighteen and a half seconds!” announced Miss Mandel.
Meanie Maxie had beaten me again.
The Tie
“Boys and girls, it is time for our last event,” said Ms. Colman.
I drew in a deep breath. My stomach felt nervous. The red team and the blue team were still tied. Now we were tied four to four. The last event was a relay race. Maxie and I were both going to run in it.
The teams lined up, five kids on the red side, five kids on the blue side. Maxie was the last runner on her team. I was the last runner on my team.
Here is what the runners had to do: dash across the gym, run around a chair, dash back to our team.
The first two runners tied. The second two runners tied. So did the third and fourth pairs of runners.
Now it was time for Maxie and me to run. If I ran faster, I would win the relay race and my class would be the champions in the Sports Celebration. If Maxie ran faster, she would win the relay race and Miss Mandel’s class would be the champions in the Sports Celebration. You know what? I did not care too much whether my team became the champs.
I just wanted to beat Maxie.
I think Maxie wanted to beat me, too. She kept glancing at me. Since Maxie and I are so much alike, I knew how she felt.
Maxie and I raced across the gym. Whoosh! We ran around those chairs. We ran back to our teams. I ran extra hard. But …
“Tie!” announced Miss Mandel.
“Do over!” I called right away. “Maxie and I race again!”
“Yeah!” cried Maxie.
We did not wait for permission. We took off and ran again.
We tied again.
This time Maxie yelled, “Do over!” and I yelled, “Yeah!”
We ran a third time. And we tied again.
Maxie and I both yelled, “Do over!”
We were tearing around those chairs when I realized something. We were running too fast. We were out of control.
BLAM! We crashed into each other. We fell down.
Karen's Pen Pal Page 3