room, the only room in the house with a

sliding closet door and windows that opened

out instead of up and down.

“Ramona, Howie’s grandmother is here,”

called Mrs. Quimby. “We’re going now.”

Ramona stepped back into her closet, slid

the door shut, pressed an imaginary button,

and when her imaginary elevator had made

its imaginary descent, stepped out onto the

real first floor and faced a real problem. Her mother and father were leaving for Parents’

Night.

After Ramona said hello to Howie’s

grandmother (“Say hello to Howie’s grand-

mother, Ramona”), she flopped down in a

chair and peeled off one end of a Band-Aid

to examine her sore knee. She was disap-

pointed when Howie’s grandmother did not

notice. “I don’t see why you have to go to

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Parents’ Night,” Ramona said to her mother and father. “It’s probably boring.”

“We want to hear what Mrs. Griggs has

to say,” said Mrs. Quimby.

This was what worried Ramona.

“And I want to meet the famous Mr.

Cardoza,” said Mr. Quimby. “We’ve been

hearing so much about him.”

“Daddy, you’re really going to like him,”

said Beezus. “Do you know what he said

when I got five wrong on my math test? He

said, ‘Good. Now I can see what it is you

don’t understand.’ And then he said he was

there to help me understand, and he did!”

“We’re going over to Howie’s house after

Parents’ Night,” said Mrs. Quimby, “but we

won’t be late.”

Beezus made a face and said to Ramona,

“That means they’ll talk about their children.

They always do.” Ramona knew her sister

spoke the truth.

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Mr. Quimby smiled as he went out the door. “Don’t worry. We won’t reveal the

family secrets.”

Beezus went off to her room, eager to do

her homework on the new-to-her desk.

Ramona pulled off the other Band-Aid and

examined her other knee. She wondered if

what Mrs. Griggs was sure to say about

Susan’s owl would be considered a family

secret. She poked her sore knee and said,

“Ouch!” so Howie’s grandmother could not

help hearing. When Mrs. Kemp failed to

ask, Why, Ramona, how did you hurt your

knee?, Ramona stuck the Band-Aid back in

place and studied her sitter.

Mrs. Kemp, who wore glasses with purple

frames, was not the sort of sitter who played games with children.When she came to sit,

she sat. She was sitting on the couch knit-

ting something out of green wool while she

looked at an old movie on television, some

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boring thing about grown-ups who talked a

lot and didn’t do much of anything.

Ramona liked good lively comedies with

lots of children and animals and grown-ups

doing silly things. Next to that she liked cat-food commercials.

Ramona picked up the evening paper

from the floor beside her chair.“Well, I guess I’ll read the paper,” she said, showing off for 88