Amber Brown Is Feeling Blue (3 page)

“And when we get there, we’ll bake the pie together.” Mom smiles at me.

I smile back.

The doorbell rings.

There are four skeletons, one Easter bunny, two Munchkins, a Dorothy, and Toto at our door.

I give them candy, pop a Tootsie Roll into my mouth, and go back into the dining room.

The doorbell rings again.

This time my mother goes to the door.

Max says, “So, Amber, it’ll be fun …. don’t you think so? A trip across the country …. a new place to visit … and I really want you to meet my sister and Jade. After all, we’re all going to be family soon. We’re practically family now.”

I think about it.

I bet that any sister of Max’s is fun, and I’ll be going someplace I’ve never been before.

My mother walks back into the room. “I just left a large bowl of candy outside the door, with a note saying, ‘Please do not disturb us. We’re having dinner….. So just take one piece of candy each.’”

I, Amber Brown, giggle.

Sometimes my mom is so funny.

She actually believes that kids will take just one piece of candy each.

Max and Mom look at me, waiting for my answer.

I’ve never been away from home for Thanksgiving. It’s always been at our house.

I think about it.

I’ve never been to Walla Walla, Washington.

It might be fun.

“Oh, OK.” I grin. “I wanna wanna go to Walla Walla.”

Mom and Max smile and start making plans.

I eat another piece of pizza and sit for a minute to see if my stomach is going to explode. Then I go out to the porch and check and see if there is anything left in the candy bowl.

There is.

Only it’s not the candy we left out. That’s all gone.

People have made trades.

In the bowl are five apples, three boxes of raisins, one half-eaten Bit-O-Honey, and two granola bars.

Trick or treat.

I, Amber Brown, have overslept.

I, Amber Brown, have a mother who has overslept.

Maybe too much candy corn can cause a person not to wake up on time in the morning. But my mom didn’t eat candy corn, and she still didn’t come into my room and wake me up until 9:00
A.M.

Maybe her excuse is that she stayed up late, talking with Max. I know that he didn’t leave until after midnight … and the reason I know that is because I was awake in bed, looking at “Countdown to Dad,” reading
a book under the covers, and eating candy corn.

I, Amber Brown, don’t think that I want to see another piece of candy corn until next Halloween.

“Amber, get up. We’ve got to rush.” My mother sticks her head back into my room.
Actually, she sticks her head and part of her body back into the room. I never understand why people say that someone sticks a head into a room …. and why the neck …. and shoulders …. are never mentioned. It seems so weird to think of just a head coming into the room.

I think that the combination of Halloween, candy corn, reading, and not going to sleep until after midnight is getting to me …. that, and my very active imagination.

“Amber, move it,” my mother says in a voice that really says “Move it …. and I mean NOW.”

I “move it” immediately, jumping out of bed, taking off my pajamas, and quickly putting on clothes.

I rush down the steps.

Mom puts a peanut butter sandwich in my mouth and hands me a glass of orange
juice. “I’ll give you the money for lunch. Let’s go. I’ve got a major meeting in forty-five minutes.”

Quickly I eat, grab my knapsack, put some candy corn into it (just in case I change my mind about not having any until next Halloween), and rush out to the car.

Mom gets into the car and says, “Seat belt on.

While we ride to school, my mom keeps talking about how late we both are and how excited she is that we’re all going to Walla Walla.

I think about how late we both are, how much fun it will be to fly to Walla Walla on Thanksgiving, and how gross it is that I forgot to brush my teeth …. and my hair.

Borrowing Mom’s hairbrush, I try to get my hair to look good, or at least not to look like one of those dumb troll dolls.

It’s too hard to think straight this early, I mean, late, in the morning … when we’ve
overslept and I’m late for school … and my breath smells and I look like a troll doll.

I hold my hand over my mouth so that the air goes up and my nose can smell my breath.

It smells of candy corn, peanut butter, and morning mouth.

I wonder if I can get a pass to the nurse’s office. I think she keeps emergency toothbrushes next to the Band-Aid box … or I can always put a Band-Aid over my mouth.

“We’re here,” Mom says. “Please hand me your notebook so that I can write you a note.”

I look in my pink knapsack and realize that I’ve left my notebook (with my homework in it) by my bed.

Mom and I rush into the school and explain why I’m late to the school secretary, who writes me a pass.

I walk down the hall, checking on my breath when no one’s looking.

Walking into my classroom, I see that everyone is standing by Mrs. Holt’s desk, talking to a kid who I don’t know.

She’s probably one of the kids who just moved into the new housing development.

Hal Henry was the first new kid in our class this year. Mrs. Holt has told us to expect more.

So I guess this person is one of them.

I look at her.

She’s got brown hair, blue eyes, and she’s not very skinny.

She looks like a perfectly nice new kid.

“She’s here,” Hannah Burton announces to the class in a voice that is much too sweet for the real Hannah Burton.

“AMBER BROWN has arrived ….. late, but here,” Hannah says. “Let me be the one to introduce you two.”

“Hannah, I can do that,” Mrs. Holt says softly.

Hannah continues anyway: “AMBER BROWN ….. meet KELLY GREEN.”

I start to smile and say hello and then it hits me.

The new person is named Kelly Green.

KELLY GREEN.

I, Amber Brown, am flummoxed.

Flummoxed. Flummoxed. Flummoxed.

The other night, Max used that word, and when I asked what it meant, he helped me look it up in the dictionary.

It means confused and perplexed. (We looked that word up, too.)

I am so flummoxed.

How can there be another person in my class with a totally colorful name?

How much chance is there of two people with two names that are colors being in the same class?

I love having my unusual name.

There’s a lot in my life that’s changing.

My dad is moving back.

Mom and Max are going to get married.

I’ve been in the fourth grade only two months, and I had to get used to a new teacher, Mrs. Holt.

With all of the changes in my life, I would like for some things to stay the same.

My name is one of them. It’s unusual. It’s colorful. It’s me, Amber Brown.

“Amber Brown. Kelly Green.” Hannah Burton is smiling. “Let the Color Wars begin.”

Hannah Burton is one of those people who is happiest when other people are unhappy, especially if she helps cause it.

If Hannah Burton were given a colorful name, it would be “Dirtball Mud.”

The only war that I must deal with is the one that Hannah and I have …. It’s a not very civil war. I don’t want to be part of it, but for some reason, Hannah is always saying disgusting, mean things.