could hear shouts and laughing, and once in a while, a cheer. It isn’t fair, Ramona told herself, even though grown-ups were always telling her life was not fair. It wasn’t fair that life wasn’t fair.

Ramona watched Mrs. Kemp lovingly

polish her new brass tray and coffee pot from Saudi Arabia. Ping-ping-ping went the timer on the kitchen stove. Howie burst in crying, one knee of his jeans bloody. Uncle Hobart followed with the unicycle. The afternoon

was not fair, but neither was it boring.

“Oh, my goodness,” cried Mrs. Kemp.“I

knew this would happen. I just knew he

would get hurt on that contraption.”

22

Ramona could hear Willa Jean singing from her room:

“This old man, he is dumb.

Knick-a-knack paddywhack,

Give a dog a phone,

This old man comes rolling home.”

Ramona smiled.Willa Jean never got the

words to songs right.

Ping-ping-ping insisted the timer.“Hobart, turn off the oven and take out the pie while I attend to Howie,” directed harassed Mrs.

Kemp.Willa Jean stalked into the living room, picked up her camel saddle, and stalked out again. In spite of her bitterness, Ramona

found the whole scene most entertaining to watch, better than TV because it was live.

When Howie limped back to the living

room with one leg of his jeans rolled up and a bandage on his knee, he sat on the couch 23

feeling sorry for himself. Ramona felt sorry for him, too.

“M-m-m.” Uncle Hobart inhaled.“Smell

Mom’s apple pie. Just what I dreamed of

every night when I was overseas.” He gave

his mother a smacking kiss.

“You’re not fooling me.” Mrs. Kemp was

delighted. “You can’t make me believe you

dreamed of my apple pie every night. I know you better than that.”

Uncle Hobart noticed Ramona impris-

oned on a chair. “What’s the matter with

Howie’s girlfriend?” he asked.

Of course, Ramona did not answer a man

who did not play fair. He had promised to

reform and not tease.

“Hobart, what do you think of a big girl

who sits and watches while a little girl breaks her accordion?” Mrs. Kemp, Ramona understood, did not want an answer. She wanted to shame Ramona.

24

Ramona was suddenly struck by a new

and disquieting thought. Mrs. Kemp did not like her. Until this minute she had thought all adults were supposed to like all children.

25

She understood by now that misunderstandings were to be expected—she had had

several with teachers—and often grown-ups

and children did not agree, but things somehow worked out. For a grown-up to actually dislike a child and try to shame her, she was sure had to be wrong, very, very wrong. She longed for Beezus to come, so she could feel someone was on her side, but Beezus found

more and more excuses to delay coming to

the Kemps’ after school.

Uncle Hobart apparently thought he was