Karen's Roller Skates
Page 4
“A spell to take away Christmas?” howled Max. “No!”
“SHH!” I said. “Boy, isn’t it just my luck that I have to live next door to a witch? I’m sure she’s the only witch in town. And she lives — Hey! That’s it!” I cried. Then I lowered my voice. I didn’t want the witch to hear me. “That’s it,” I said more softly.
“That’s what?” asked David Michael.
“Nothing,” I answered. I was busy thinking. I could get Morbidda Destiny to sign my cast. Ricky wouldn’t have a witch’s autograph. And a witch’s autograph would be better than Hubert Gregory’s any day.
Hmm. How would I get the witch’s autograph, though? I would have to go to her house, or at least into her yard. I would have to stand near her. She would have to touch my cast. Was I brave enough for all that?
Of course I was…. Well, I would be, if someone came with me. Someone like Hannie Papadakis. That was all I needed — a friend.
“Hannie?” I said. “Want to come over for awhile?”
“Sure,” replied Hannie. I could tell she was glad I hadn’t asked Amanda to come over, too.
Hannie and I stood up. We were still licking our ice creams.
“See you guys later,” I said.
“See you,” said Andrew, David Michael, Linny, Max, and Amanda.
“I’m glad you’re not mad at me anymore,” I said to Hannie as we crossed the street.
“I’m glad, too,” replied Hannie.
“Since we’re friends again, will you help me with something?”
“What do you need help with?” asked Hannie.
“I want you to come over to Morbidda Destiny’s with me.”
Lucky Charms
“No!” cried Hannie. Then she whispered, “I am not going to the witch’s house again. The last time we went over there we got into very big trouble.”
That was true. But that was because we did something wrong. “We won’t do anything wrong this time,” I told Hannie. We reached my house. We let ourselves inside and went to my room. “In fact, we’re going to do something nice. We’re going to ask Mor — Mrs. Porter for her autograph. Don’t you think that will make her happy? She will think we like her. We won’t get in trouble for that.”
“We-ell,” said Hannie slowly. “But aren’t you afraid of her, Karen? I am. She’s a witch.”
“I know. But I think we’ll be safe. If we go over soon, she’ll still be outside in her garden. She couldn’t hurt us then.”
“Why not?” asked Hannie.
“Because everyone would see. Andrew and David Michael and Linny and Max and Amanda are right across the street. The witch won’t do anything with people watching. I know she won’t.”
“Maybe not,” said Hannie.
“Don’t you want me to have the best cast in our class tomorrow?” I asked.
“Yes.”
“Then will you help me?”
Hannie sighed. “Yes.”
“Okay, now we have to think about how we’re going to ask Morbidda Destiny for her autograph.”
“Can’t you just say, ‘Please sign my cast’?” suggested Hannie.
“What if she wants to know why I want her to sign my cast? I can’t tell her it’s because she’s a witch.”
“Then say it’s because … it’s because … Oh, I don’t know, Karen. You’ll think of something won’t you?”
“I guess so,” I replied. I usually do.
“I don’t know why I’m helping you,” said Hannie. She made a face.
“I do. Because you’re my friend.”
Hannie and I smiled at each other.
“Now,” I said, “we better protect ourselves while we’re next door. We need some lucky charms. Just in case. I’ll put my lucky rabbit’s foot in my pocket. And you can put … let’s see. You can put my lucky stone in your pocket.”
The stone I keep in my bureau drawer isn’t really lucky. It’s just pretty, but if Hannie believed it was lucky, that was probably all that mattered. So I told her it was a lucky stone. “Then we’ll be safe,” I added. I gave Hannie the stone. “Ready?” I asked.
“I hope so,” Hannie replied.
The Witch’s Autograph
Hannie and I finished our ice creams. I threw the stick away. Then we left our house. My hand was closed around the rabbit’s foot. Hannie’s was closed around the stone.
“Keep your hand on the stone all the time,” I warned Hannie. “I’ll keep — Uh-oh.” I looked around nervously.
“What’s wrong?” asked Hannie in a squeaky voice.
“That.” I pointed to Morbidda Destiny’s garden. It was empty. “She’s gone,” I said. “She’s probably inside now. We’ll have to ring her doorbell.”
“Noooo.”
“It’s the only thing, Hannie. Look. Everybody is still outside. And Shannon’s with them now. We’ll be safe. So we’ll ring the witch’s doorbell. Then we’ll stand on her porch and when she answers the door, I’ll ask for her autograph. Simple. We won’t go inside or anything.”
“All right.”
We walked out of my yard. We walked into Morbidda Destiny’s. Her big old house stood before us. Very slowly, we climbed the porch steps. I looked at Hannie. Her hand was still in her pocket. “Are you holding the stone?” I asked.
She nodded.
“Good. Hold it tight. I’m holding the rabbit’s foot. Our lucky charms will protect us.”
I rang Morbidda Destiny’s doorbell. My hand was shaking.
After a moment, Hannie and I heard footsteps inside.
“Yes?” called a wobbly voice.
“It’s us!” I said. “ It’s Karen Brewer and Hannie Papadakis.”
The door opened slightly. Hannie and I could see a squinty eye and a pointy nose.
Then the door opened the rest of the way.
There stood my witch. She looked the same as always. She was wearing a long black dress. It came right to the tops of her black shoes. Her gray hair was flying every which way.
“Well,” she said, “what can I do for you girls?”
I took off my sling and held out my arm. “I broke my wrist,” I said timidly. “Would you, um, would you please sign my cast?”
“How did you break it?” Morbidda Destiny asked.
“I was skating and I fell down,” I told her.
The witch nodded. She did not look impressed.
“I know it isn’t very interesting,” I said, “but that’s what happened.”
“Why do you want my autograph?” asked Morbidda Destiny.
Hannie and I glanced at each other.
“Because you’re my neighbor,” I said. I said it just as Hannie said, “Because she’s in a cast-signing contest.”
Morbidda Destiny looked confused, but all she said was, “Let’s see here.” She reached into the folds of her dress. Like magic, she pulled out a pen. Where had that pen been hiding?
The witch reached for my arm. I squinched my eyes shut. I felt like I was at the doctor’s, waiting for a shot. Suddenly I was terrified. What was I doing? Was I crazy, letting a witch sign my cast? Maybe if I pulled my arm away right then —
“There we go!” exclaimed Morbidda Destiny. She smiled happily.
Oh, no! She had already signed my cast! I dared to open my eyes. What would I see? What would a witch put on a cast?
In big black letters were the words “Tabitha Porter.” Next to them was a drawing of a black cat. A black cat! Why had she drawn that? What was it? A spell? Maybe it was an awful sign that would attract other witches. What a horrible thought. But I couldn’t do anything about it.
I had a witch name and a witch cat on my cast now. It was time to go.
“Th-thanks, Mrs. Porter!” I cried.
Then I grabbed Hannie’s hand and we ran to my house.
Home Safely
Hannie and I slammed the front door behind us. We were breathing very hard. We didn’t say a word. After a few moments, I went into the living room. I turned on a light. I was goin
g to examine what Morbidda Destiny had written.
Just then I heard Charlie call, “Karen? Is that you?”
“Yes!” I yelled back. I was shaking. But I said to Hannie, “Let’s show everyone the witch’s autograph.” If no one else seemed worried about the black cat, then I wouldn’t be worried either, I decided.
I found my big brothers in the kitchen, eating.
They are always eating.
“Look! Mrs. Porter signed my cast!” I said.
Charlie smiled.
Sam said, “Big deal.”
Hannie and I went into the backyard. Daddy and Elizabeth were gardening. Kristy was helping them. “Look!” I said again. “Mrs. Porter signed my cast!”
Daddy and Elizabeth and Kristy put down their trowels. They took off their gardening gloves. Then they stood up.
“You guys went over to Mrs. Porter’s?” exclaimed Kristy. “I thought you were afraid of her.”
Daddy and Elizabeth were peering at my cast.
“Very nice,” said Daddy. “She even drew a picture of Midnight.”
Oh! Midnight! So that’s what the picture was. I felt very silly … and very relieved.
“I’m sure Mrs. Porter was happy that you wanted her autograph,” added Elizabeth. “She’s so lonely. Visits from kids must mean a lot to her.”
“Well, really,” Hannie began, “we needed the autograph of a wi — ”
“Of all our neighbors,” I interrupted loudly. Daddy and Elizabeth would not be happy if they knew Hannie and I were calling Mrs. Porter a witch again. “Come on, Hannie. Let’s go count my autographs.”
I pulled Hannie into the house. Whew!
“Hannie,” I said, “you can’t tell grown-ups about witches. Especially about Mrs. Porter. They don’t understand.”
“Oh,” replied Hannie.
We went back to the lamp in the living room.
“Tabitha Porter,” I said, looking at the autograph. “A witchy-sounding name. Still, I wish Mrs. Porter had written ‘Morbidda Destiny’ so everyone would know it was the autograph of my witch.”
“Well, I will tell them,” said Hannie. “I was with you. I know.”
“Thank you,” I replied.
I was happy at last. Maybe my cast wouldn’t be better than Ricky’s, but it would be just as good.
Good-byes and Hellos
“Karen!” Kristy called.
“What?” I shouted. Hannie and I were still in the living room. We had been counting autographs.
“It’s time for you and Andrew to get ready to go home.”
“All right,” I said. I sighed. I had lost count.
So had Hannie. She decided to leave.
“ ’Bye!” I called. “See you in school tomorrow. Thank you for helping me.”
Kristy found Andrew outside. She brought him in. Then she brought both of us upstairs to get ready to go back to Mommy’s. Kristy likes to help Andrew and me. We have special good-bye visits with her. First she talks to Andrew while she helps him. Then she talks to me. I do not need any help, though.
“What a weekend, Karen,” said Kristy as she came into my room.
“It was exciting, wasn’t it?” I replied.
Kristy laughed. “I’ll say! Think of everything that happened.”
“I got a witch’s autograph.”
“You got a witch’s autograph?! How about having an accident? Breaking your wrist? And going to the hospital — twice?”
“Getting X rays,” I added. “Meeting Tom. Meeting a bone doctor. Riding in a wheelchair. And seeing Ricky and his cast.”
“Right,” said Kristy. “But you know what? I hope we don’t have this kind of excitement too often.”
“I wouldn’t mind. When I go to school tomorrow, I will be a star.”
“You will be a co-star,” Kristy reminded me. “Ricky will have a cast, too, so he will be another star.”
“Yeah. Darn old Ricky.”
“Come on,” said Kristy. “Your mom will be here any minute.”
Andrew and I got our knapsacks. We went downstairs to wait. Soon, Mommy and Seth drove into Daddy’s driveway.
“Good-bye! Good-bye!” Andrew and I called to Daddy and Elizabeth and Kristy and Sam and Charlie and David Michael and Shannon and Boo-Boo. It took us a long time to hug everybody.
Then we ran to Mommy and Seth. “Hello! Hello!” we called. We kissed them as we climbed into the car. Their car was full of suitcases and things from their trip to the state of Maine.
“My poor Karen!” exclaimed Mommy when she saw my cast and sling.
“My arm hardly hurts at all,” I told her. “And look. Look at all the autographs on my cast. Now you and Seth have to sign it.”
Mommy was driving, so Seth signed my cast. He wrote
Mommy said, “I’ll sign your cast at home, honey. Hey, how would you like the autograph of a famous person? My friend Amy Morris is in Stoneybrook this weekend. Maybe we could visit her tonight.”
“Amy Morris the movie star?!” I shrieked. “She’s a friend of yours? And she’s here?”
“Yes,” said Mommy, laughing.
I could not believe it. I just could not believe it. I went looking for someone famous and did not find anybody. Then I stopped looking and found somebody. Oh, well. Whether we saw Amy Morris or not, I would still be the only kid with a witch’s autograph.
I smiled. It had not been such a bad weekend after all.
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 © 1988 by Ann M. Martin
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This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
First edition, 1988
e-ISBN 978-1-338-04444-7