Read Online Amber Brown Is Feeling Blue by Paula Danziger - Free Book Online
Authors: Paula Danziger
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Chapter
One
“Ta-da, dinner is served.” Brenda, my Amber-sitter, comes into the living room. This week her hair is lime green and spiky.
I am lying down on the floor, doing my homework.
Brenda claps her hands. “Tonight I have made an amazing meal. I call it ‘Mischief Night Delight.’”
If she thinks that this meal is amazing, that makes me more than a little nervous. Brenda thought it was perfectly normal when she made “Tuna Fish Delish.” That had little chunks of celery and marshmallows in it.
I look up at Brenda.
She’s wearing shocking-pink tights with a huge T-shirt, one that says PLAYS WELL WITH OTHERS . Mom and I gave it to her for her birthday last month.
I, Amber Brown, picked out the T-shirt.
I’m wearing the one my mom bought for me to wear when Brenda comes over to Amber-sit. Mine says NEEDS SUPERVISION .
Sometimes my mom thinks that she’s very funny.
I get up, and we go into the kitchen.
Brenda has the table all set. “It’s the Mischief Night menu.”
I look at the table. In the center, there is chili made with ground meat. In the middle of the meat, on top, she has placed two gumballs, which look like eyes.
Avocado halves are filled with green Jell-O.
She’s even used the plastic pumpkin that my mom will fill tomorrow with the candythat we’re giving out for Halloween. It’s filled with cauliflower.
“It looks like the pumpkin’s brains. Isn’t that cool?” Brenda looks pleased with herself.
The cauliflower is steaming and looks very squishy, and there’s tomato sauce poured over it to look like blood.
“Yum,” Brenda says.
I just look at it.
“Yum,” Brenda repeats.
Brenda pretends to be the waiter and pulls out my chair.
I sit down.
She pretends to read from a menu, even though it is actually a serving spoon. “What would you like to order from our liquid list? Our milk is a very good year.”
I laugh.
Whenever I see someone in a movie ordering wine, the waiter always says things like “This is a very good year.”
Somehow I don’t think old milk would be too delicious.
“Actually, the milk is a very good
week
…this one,” Brenda says.
“Fine.” I look at the meal. “Then I will have a glass of milk. Which milk, do you think, goes better with this food? Chocolate? Vanilla?”
“Might I suggest the strawberry? It would look good with the orange of the pumpkin, the brown of the meat, the red of the pumpkin blood,” Brenda says, going over to the blender and putting in some milk and some strawberries.
We sit down to eat.
I stare at the meal but don’t eat anything.
“It won’t kill you. I promise.” Brenda starts eating. “Yum.”
Brenda said “Yum” the time she ate the tuna-and-marshmallow meal. THAT was definitely not a “Yum” meal.
I take a tiny taste of each thing.
It is an amazing meal. What is amazing is that it tastes good.
“So, what are you going to wear tomorrow for Halloween?” I ask.
Brenda smiles. “For Halloween, I’m going to dress ‘normal.’ I’m going to wear a wig that is a normal color and has a normal boring cut. And I’m going to wear one of mymother’s normal dresses and a pair of heels. That will be my costume.”
I tell her what I’m going to wear even though I’m keeping it a secret from everyone else. No one else will know until tomorrow.
“So,” she says, changing the subject, “when is your dad moving back here from Paris?
“In just two weeks.” I clap my hands. “I can’t wait.”
Brenda grins at me. “You are so excited. Tell me about your dad.” Because Brenda became my Amber-sitter after my parents divorced, after my dad moved to Paris, she’s never met him.
I describe my dad. “He’s not real skinny. He’s not real fat…. He’s got a real nice smile when he’s happy…. Sometimes he tells very corny jokes…. He’s losing his hair … only when I tell him that, he says that it’s not lost, that it’s just flown off in a hairplane.”
Brenda smiles. “He
One
“Ta-da, dinner is served.” Brenda, my Amber-sitter, comes into the living room. This week her hair is lime green and spiky.
I am lying down on the floor, doing my homework.
Brenda claps her hands. “Tonight I have made an amazing meal. I call it ‘Mischief Night Delight.’”
If she thinks that this meal is amazing, that makes me more than a little nervous. Brenda thought it was perfectly normal when she made “Tuna Fish Delish.” That had little chunks of celery and marshmallows in it.
I look up at Brenda.
She’s wearing shocking-pink tights with a huge T-shirt, one that says PLAYS WELL WITH OTHERS . Mom and I gave it to her for her birthday last month.
I, Amber Brown, picked out the T-shirt.
I’m wearing the one my mom bought for me to wear when Brenda comes over to Amber-sit. Mine says NEEDS SUPERVISION .
Sometimes my mom thinks that she’s very funny.
I get up, and we go into the kitchen.
Brenda has the table all set. “It’s the Mischief Night menu.”
I look at the table. In the center, there is chili made with ground meat. In the middle of the meat, on top, she has placed two gumballs, which look like eyes.
Avocado halves are filled with green Jell-O.
She’s even used the plastic pumpkin that my mom will fill tomorrow with the candythat we’re giving out for Halloween. It’s filled with cauliflower.
“It looks like the pumpkin’s brains. Isn’t that cool?” Brenda looks pleased with herself.
The cauliflower is steaming and looks very squishy, and there’s tomato sauce poured over it to look like blood.
“Yum,” Brenda says.
I just look at it.
“Yum,” Brenda repeats.
Brenda pretends to be the waiter and pulls out my chair.
I sit down.
She pretends to read from a menu, even though it is actually a serving spoon. “What would you like to order from our liquid list? Our milk is a very good year.”
I laugh.
Whenever I see someone in a movie ordering wine, the waiter always says things like “This is a very good year.”
Somehow I don’t think old milk would be too delicious.
“Actually, the milk is a very good
week
…this one,” Brenda says.
“Fine.” I look at the meal. “Then I will have a glass of milk. Which milk, do you think, goes better with this food? Chocolate? Vanilla?”
“Might I suggest the strawberry? It would look good with the orange of the pumpkin, the brown of the meat, the red of the pumpkin blood,” Brenda says, going over to the blender and putting in some milk and some strawberries.
We sit down to eat.
I stare at the meal but don’t eat anything.
“It won’t kill you. I promise.” Brenda starts eating. “Yum.”
Brenda said “Yum” the time she ate the tuna-and-marshmallow meal. THAT was definitely not a “Yum” meal.
I take a tiny taste of each thing.
It is an amazing meal. What is amazing is that it tastes good.
“So, what are you going to wear tomorrow for Halloween?” I ask.
Brenda smiles. “For Halloween, I’m going to dress ‘normal.’ I’m going to wear a wig that is a normal color and has a normal boring cut. And I’m going to wear one of mymother’s normal dresses and a pair of heels. That will be my costume.”
I tell her what I’m going to wear even though I’m keeping it a secret from everyone else. No one else will know until tomorrow.
“So,” she says, changing the subject, “when is your dad moving back here from Paris?
“In just two weeks.” I clap my hands. “I can’t wait.”
Brenda grins at me. “You are so excited. Tell me about your dad.” Because Brenda became my Amber-sitter after my parents divorced, after my dad moved to Paris, she’s never met him.
I describe my dad. “He’s not real skinny. He’s not real fat…. He’s got a real nice smile when he’s happy…. Sometimes he tells very corny jokes…. He’s losing his hair … only when I tell him that, he says that it’s not lost, that it’s just flown off in a hairplane.”
Brenda smiles. “He
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