Amber Brown Horses Around Read online

  Discover all the Amber Brown chapter books

  Amber Brown Is Not a Crayon

  You Can’t Eat Your Chicken Pox, Amber Brown

  Amber Brown Goes Fourth

  Amber Brown Wants Extra Credit

  Forever Amber Brown

  Amber Brown Sees Red

  Amber Brown Is Feeling Blue

  I, Amber Brown

  Amber Brown Is Green With Envy

  Amber Brown Is Tickled Pink

  Amber Brown Is on the Move

  G. P. PUTNAM’S SONS

  Published by the Penguin Group

  Penguin Group (USA) LLC

  375 Hudson Street

  New York, NY 10014

  USA | Canada | UK | Ireland | Australia

  New Zealand | India | South Africa | China

  penguin.com

  A Penguin Random House Company

  Copyright © 2014 by Paula Danziger Estate.

  Illustrations copyright © 2014 by Anthony Lewis.

  Penguin supports copyright. Copyright fuels creativity, encourages diverse voices, promotes free speech, and creates a vibrant culture. Thank you for buying an authorized edition of this book and for complying with copyright laws by not reproducing, scanning, or distributing any part of it in any form without permission. You are supporting writers and allowing Penguin to continue to publish books for every reader.

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Coville, Bruce.

  Paula Danziger’s Amber Brown horses around / written by Bruce Coville and Elizabeth Levy ; illustrated by Anthony Lewis.

  pages cm

  Summary: Amber is excited to be spending the summer after fourth grade with her friends at Camp Cushetunk, but things start getting complicated when she learns that her worst enemy, Hannah Burton, is one of her bunkmates.

  [1. Camps—Fiction. 2. Interpersonal relations—Fiction. 3. Family problems—Fiction.] I. Levy, Elizabeth, 1942– II. Lewis, Anthony, 1966– illustrator. III. Danziger, Paula, 1944–2004. IV. Title. V. Title: Amber Brown horses around.

  PZ7.C8344Pah 2014

  [Fic]—dc23

  2013039401

  ISBN 978-0-698-17169-5

  Version_1

  To Margaret Frith and Susan Kochan, with love and thanks for watching over Amber all these years.

  Contents

  More Amber Brown chapter books

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Special Thanks

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Chapter Twenty-three

  SPECIAL THANKS TO:

  Kathy Coville, Carrie Danziger, and Ellen Yeomans for their helpful and heartfelt comments.

  The New York Therapeutic Riding Center for hands-on horse experience.

  Annemiek “Mieks” Gersten of Brant Lake Camp for her insights and advice.

  Olivia Fleur Kane for her riding expertise.

  Spencer Kane, Houldin and Jonas Marcovitz, and Isabel and Noah Kirby for patiently answering questions about life at Amber’s age.

  Hunter Kane and Julia and Sam Ringel for lots of jokes.

  Chapter One

  I, Amber Brown, am one happy camper.

  This is a strange thing to say, because I have never been at camp . . . . . and I am not there now! Even so, I am a happy camper because I made it through fourth grade and tomorrow I am heading for Camp Cushetunk.

  That’s the good news.

  The bad news is that first I have to pack.

  I hate packing. There are too many choices to make!

  I am looking at the pile of stuff on my bed when Mom and Max knock on my door.

  I know it is both of them, because the door is open.

  I have trained them to knock even when it is.

  Max is my new stepfather. I was kind of rotten to him when he started to go out with Mom, but I kind of love him now.

  “Come in,” I say.

  Mom is carrying the packing list that the camp sent. I like lists. I especially like this one because there is a little box next to each item that you can check when you’ve taken care of it. This is very satisfying.

  However, the list is missing things like “Gorilla” and “pig-taking-a-bubble-bath alarm clock/bank.” I think I have to leave those things at home. Not because I don’t want to have them with me . . . . . . . . it’s just that I don’t want the other campers to make fun of me for bringing them.

  Sometimes it’s hard to figure out what is too baby and what is all right.

  Max holds up a plastic bag. “I just went to the drugstore, Amber. I think I got everything we still needed.”

  I thought I liked lists, but I am nothing compared to Max. He LOVES lists.

  He also loves labels. I think maybe the two things go together. He has had a fine time ironing name tags onto my shirts and shorts.

  I didn’t let him do my underwear. I made Mom do that.

  When I asked Max how he got so handy with an iron, he explained that it was a side effect of living alone for so many years.

  Max starts to unpack the drugstore bag. He holds up a toothbrush. “You’re going to love this, Amber. It’s got a timer inside and it lights up after you’ve brushed for two minutes.”

  Two minutes is how long the dentist wants me to brush, but I usually get bored before two minutes go by. The light is very cool.

  Mom says, “Why don’t you go grab Amber’s towels, Max.”

  While he is gone, she picks up one of my T-shirts and looks at the name tag. “Amber Brown. I love that I gave you such a colorful name.”

  I love my name too. But I don’t love that Mom’s last name is no longer Brown. When she got married to Max, it became Turner.

  Max comes back in and puts a stack of towels on the bed. Then he goes to my desk. “Make sure everything has a name tag on it before you pack it.”

  “I don’t think the camp really meant everything,” Mom says. “No one puts a name tag on a tube of toothpaste.”

  I look at Max and start to laugh. He has a tube of toothpaste in one hand and a fine-point Sharpie in the other. He drops the Sharpie and tries to pretend he wasn’t about to label my toothpaste.

  “Busted!” I say.

  Mom sighs. “Oh, Max. Next thing you know, you’ll be labeling her sticks of gum!”

  I can’t tell whether she is amused or exasperated.

  When the trunk is packed, they go downstairs.

  “Don’t forget we’re leaving for the airport in fifteen minutes,” Mom calls over her shoulder.

  Tonight, Justin Daniels, my very best friend ever, is flying up from Alabama. He is going to Cushetunk too! This is the best, best, best thing ever.

  The reason it is the best, best, best thing ever is that I almost never get to see Justin anymore. That’s because of one of the worst, wo
rst, worst things ever . . . . . . . his parents moved to Alabama! I thought they should leave Justin behind so we could keep going to school together, but they refused.

  Now we’re going to be at camp together for four whole weeks. The idea is so exciting, I am afraid my head will explode before we even leave for the airport to get Justin.

  I decide to check my e-mail, just to try to keep my head in one piece while I am waiting. I have only had e-mail for a few days . . . . . it was a reward for graduating from fourth grade.

  My e-mail name is “Notacrayon.”

  When I open the account, I see that there is a message from Brandi Colwin. It is addressed to me and Kelly Green.

  This is another reason I am so sure Camp Cushetunk will be wonderful. Brandi and Kelly are my best friends from school, and they are going too. It should be great!

  Brandi’s subject line is “Bulletin! Bulletin! Bulletin!”

  She is practicing to be a newscaster, and this is her way of letting Kelly and me know that she has something important to tell us.

  I open the e-mail, and groan.

  Chapter Two

  I don’t watch the news that much, but I see it more often now that Max is with us. And something I’ve noticed is that most of the news is bad.

  Brandi’s e-mail is definitely something that belongs on the bad news channel.

  OMG! I JUST FOUND OUT THAT HANNAH BURTON IS GOING TO CAMP CUSHETUNK!!

  I want to beat my head against the keyboard. Hannah and I have been in school together forever, and we have never liked each other.

  Hannah Burton is tinfoil on your teeth . . . . . . itching powder down your back . . . . . . a giant booger in your soup.

  “What if we’re in a bunk with her?” I e-mail back.

  Before Brandi can answer, Max calls, “Time to go to the airport!”

  I am out of my chair, down the stairs, and into the car while Mom and Max are still getting their things together.

  “I checked the flight,” Max says as he climbs into the driver’s seat. “It’s right on time.”

  It feels like the airport is a million miles away. Every stop sign and traffic light makes me want to scream. I want to be there NOW.

  Mom and Max are yakking away like this is just a normal ride. I realize they are talking about the movies they want to see while I am gone. I am not sure I like this . . . . . I think they should just stay home and miss me. I know that is silly, but I can’t always control how I feel about things.

  When we finally get to the airport, we have to walk a billion zillion miles from the parking garage to where we are supposed to meet Justin. Because he is a kid traveling alone, one of the airplane people will walk him out to us.

  I see him! But he is not looking for me. He is chatting away to the woman walking beside him. She is in a uniform and looks very official. She is also very beautiful. For some reason I find this very annoying.

  Suddenly he turns in our direction. “Amber!” he cries, and runs toward me. Just like when he came up for Mom and Max’s wedding, we almost hug, and then stop.

  I look at him. His hair has gotten longer, and he is even more tan than the last time I saw him. But he is still Justin. Then he smiles, and I see the big change. He has braces!

  “This is Ms. Block,” Justin says. “She’s in training to be a pilot.”

  Ms. Block shakes hands with Mom and Max and asks them for ID to make sure we are the people who are supposed to pick up Justin. Mom thanks her, and Ms. Block walks away. Justin watches her go.

  I tap him on the shoulder. He turns back to me and says, “I think I want to be a pilot when I grow up.”

  “Come on, flyboy,” Max says. “We need to get your luggage.”

  “Was it scary traveling alone?” I ask Justin.

  “No, it was kind of fun. Except they almost paid too much attention to me. But I had my own little TV set. That was cool!”

  The luggage comes out on something called a carousel, which would make you think it was like a merry-go-round because it does go around and around. But there aren’t any horses. It’s a big oval that carries the suitcases and backpacks past the people waiting to claim them. I soooooo want to climb onto it and take a ride . . . . . . I bet it would be fun.

  This is when I realize that Max is getting to know me a little too well. He looks down at me and says firmly, “Don’t even think about it!”

  “That’s mine!” Justin says, pointing to a big trunk.

  Max hauls it off the carousel. “Ooof! What did you pack in here? Your little brother?”

  “I hope he’s not in there!” Justin says. “One of the reasons I wanted to go to camp was to get away from him!”

  We laugh and head for the car.

  When we get home, I say, “Come on, Justin. I’ll show you around the new house.”

  “Great,” Mom says. “Max and I will start the grill. We’re having a barbecue to celebrate your last night at home before you go to camp.”

  When we get to my room, I show Justin the place of honor in my closet where I keep our chewing gum ball.

  We started making the ball way back in second grade. Justin was going to throw it out when he moved. That started our worst fight ever. I am glad we still have it. It proves that we will always stick together.

  “I was afraid your mother might make you throw it away when you were moving,” he says.

  “She tried,” I tell him. “But I stayed strong. Did you bring any gum?”

  He shakes his head. “I can’t chew gum now that I’ve got braces. You’ll have to chew for both of us.”

  I pop two pieces into my mouth and chew until they are just right. I add them to the ball, but it’s not the same.

  “Do the braces hurt?” I ask him. “And how come you didn’t tell me you got them?”

  He shrugs, which seems to be his answer to both questions. I decide to change the subject. I tell him about Hannah Burton coming to camp.

  He doesn’t seem half as upset as I am, even though he knows Hannah and doesn’t like her either. Instead he says, “I can’t believe we’ll be at camp tomorrow. I’m dying to swim out to the rock-climbing raft!”

  “Rock-climbing raft?” I say. “How can you have a rock-climbing raft in the middle of a lake? It would sink.”

  “Well, it’s not really made of rock, silly. It’s inflatable.” He looks at my face and says, “What’s wrong?”

  Instead of answering, I say, “How far is the raft from the dock?”

  Justin raises his head just a little. “You don’t love swimming, do you?”

  He has pretty much read my mind. It is amazing that he can still do this, and it makes me feel good about him as a friend.

  But he has not read my whole mind. The truth is, I, Amber Brown, can’t swim at all. The divorce happened about the time most of my friends were taking swimming lessons. Somehow the idea of me swimming sank out of sight. If Mom or Dad had suggested lessons, I might have agreed. But since the idea of swimming in water over my head scares me, I never mentioned it myself.

  I’ve managed to keep this secret so far. When I go to the ocean, I squeal and jump in and out of the little waves near the shore. When I am at someone’s pool, I hang around in the shallow end and pretend I’m having fun.

  I have a feeling that’s not going to work at Camp Cushetunk.

  I, Amber Brown, realize that part of me is a happy camper and part of me is a scared camper.

  And it’s not just swimming. Everything is going to be different. And I have never been away from home for so long.

  What if I get homesick?

  What if camp is not wonderful?

  What if I do something stupid and act like a baby?

  Suddenly part of me wants to stay home. But it is too late for that.

  Tomorrow we leave for Cushetunk.

  Chapter T
hree

  “Amber, it’s for you!”

  Mom is holding out the phone with one hand and checking her watch with the other.

  I take the phone. “Hi, Amber,” my father says. “I just wanted to wish you good luck today and tell you again how much I wish that I could be the one driving you and Justin to camp.”

  He sounds a little miffed about this, which is silly. Justin and I and our two big trunks couldn’t fit in his little red sports car, which he calls the Hot Tamale and my mother calls his “Midlife Folly.”

  “I’m going to miss you so much,” he tells me over the phone.

  “We can’t wait to come up for visiting day.”

  “We?” I ask.

  “Isobel and me,” he says, as if it is obvious.

  Isobel is Dad’s girlfriend. As far as I’m concerned, she is really “Miss Isobel,” because that is what we all called her when she was teaching my class ballroom dancing. That’s how Dad met her. It was kind of weird when they started dating . . . . . . . . but I’ve gotten used to it now. Even so, I didn’t think he would be bringing her to camp.

  Camp Cushetunk only has one weekend when the parents are invited. Mom and Dad had to work out which one of them is coming which day. They don’t want to be there together. Since Mom and Max get to drive me up, Dad gets the first visiting day. That makes things easier on me, since I won’t have to worry about them fighting.

  It makes me mad that I have to think about things like that at all. You would think grown-ups could act more . . . . . . . well, grown-up!

  “Wait till you see Justin,” I tell Dad, partly to change the subject. “He’s got braces!”

  “I remember my train-track teeth. Tell him not to get too close to any magnets!”

  Sometimes my father is not as funny as he thinks he is.

  “Write me a letter soon to tell me how your first days go,” Dad says.

  I’ll be writing an old-fashioned letter because the camp doesn’t allow e-mail or cell phones. I realize I am going to have to write two letters home each week. Kids like Justin only have to write one.