Sophie Sea to Sea Page 10

  “May we be little bunnies, Miss?” asked Elizabeth.

  “Ah, yes, Elizabeth, dear. A bunny is perfect. Just perfect.”

  As soon as the teacher turned away, the boys stomped on the girls’toes.

  The girls squealed and jumped away.

  It seemed to Sophie that she got more than her fair share of toe stomping. Her new school shoes soon became scuffed. And her toes felt like squashed bananas.

  Finally the bell rang.

  “Oh dear. Time for you to go already,” said Madame Mimi. “Well continue our dance lessons tomorrow. Line up now. Girls here, behind Elizabeth. Boys over there.”

  After school Sophie walked home with Gwendolyn. They both had to limp, their toes were so sore.

  “Don’t you hate those dancing lessons?” said Gwendolyn.

  “Especially when the boys stomp our toes,” agreed Sophie. “Do they always do that?”

  Gwendolyn nodded. “Wish I had a brother,” she said. “I’d ask him for special toe stomping lessons.”

  “Brothers wouldn’t help,” said Sophie. “What we need here is the proper equipment.” The seed of an idea was growing in her head.

  When she got home she went straight to the basement. A lot of her family’s stuff was still packed in boxes.

  There, in a box marked “Souliers”, she found them. Arthur’s old boots. They had good thick soles. Their toes curled up in front and the heels were worn round at the back.

  She carried them out to the back steps and polished the wrinkled leather until it reflected back the afternoon sun.

  She tried the boots on and wiggled her toes. With that pair of thick woolen socks Grand’maman had knitted for her, they’d be perfect.

  The next morning after breakfast, Sophie put on her plaid school skirt and her new Sunday blouse. Then she tied on the big shiny leather boots.

  “I’m leaving for school, Maman,” she called.

  “Au revoir, ma Chérie,” called her mother from the living room where she was already practising her piano.

  Sophie clomped down the hall in time to a sonata and booted open the front door. Then she clomped across the verandah and down the front steps, her boots echoing just beautifully.

  She stomped down the front walk. All the way to school she practised stomping. She stomped the dusty weeds beside the path.

  She stomped dirty gum wrappers. She stomped a rusty can flat. She stomped in all the mud puddles. She almost stomped on a grouchy old cat’s tail.

  When she got to school she booted a rock around the playground. Some girls stopped playing and stared at her.

  “She’s from Quebec,” one girl whispered loud enough for Sophie to hear. “She doesn’t know any better.”

  Sophie gave them her Star Girl power stare and booted the rock in their direction. They all squealed and scattered like a flock of nervous chickens.

  In the classroom, Miss Wiggins shook her head and tut-tutted at the dried mud under Sophie’s desk. Then she announced, “Gym time, boys and girls. Line up by the door.”

  As usual, the class groaned. They didn’t like dancing.

  “Remember,” the teacher warned. “There must be no talking on the stairs.”

  Sophie didn’t see anyone talking but the class was far from quiet. In fact it sounded like a herd of buffalo tramping down the wooden stairs to the basement. With her boots on, Sophie contributed her share to the buffalo rumpus.

  “Oh, good! Miss Wiggins’ class,” Madame Mimi greeted them, her chins quivering. “Line up now with your dance partners,” she directed.

  Sophie grinned widely at her partner from yesterday. His name, she’d discovered, was Jake. In fact he lived right next door to their new house on Quadling Avenue.

  Madame turned to put her record on the record player.

  Sophie couldn’t wait. With her new boots she went, STOMP! Right on Jake’s toes. Hard.

  “Yeow!” shouted Jake. He clutched his toes and hopped around the room.

  Madame Mimi turned back to the class. “The new girl,” she said, “what’s your name?”

  “Sophie, Madame,” said Sophie, smiling sweetly at her. “Sophie LaGrange.”

  “Well, Sophie. What in heaven’s name are you doing?”

  “Practising the dancing, Madame. Dancing like, like the big forest buffalo.”

  “Ah. Buffalo. What a creative thought! Yes. Perhaps we could include buffalo in our little forest dance. Some lovely energetic forest buffalo.”

  For the rest of the dancing lesson, everyone stomped around like energetic buffalo. Madame Mimi was amazed at how good they were at stomping.

  But no boy dared dance near Sophie. Particularly Jake. He kept his feet well away from her big boots. In fact not many boys stomped on girls’ toes at all.

  The next day, most of the girls wore their big brother’s boots to school so they could all stomp a good loud energetic Buffalo dance too.

  Sophie’s class was getting ready to put on their Spring concert. Madame Mimi announced that Elizabeth would be Red Riding Hood because she took ballet lessons and had real shiny pink ballet slippers.

  Donald would be the Big Bad Wolf and Jake would be the woodcutter who’d come in at the end and save Red Riding Hood from the Big Bad Wolf.

  Sophie, announced Madame Mimi, would be part of the chorus of forest creatures. Just part of the chorus? At first Sophie was disappointed, but she and Gwendolyn were especially good at the loud stomping forest buffalo dance. They practised every chance they got.

  About a week before the concert, Elizabeth got chicken pox so Madame Mimi had to choose another Red Riding Hood.

  “Please, Madame,” said Sophie. “We did lots and lots of concerts at my old school in Montreal. Could I be Red Riding Hood? Please?”

  “All right, Sophie,” sighed Madame Mimi. “We don’t have many more days left to practise before our concert.”

  The class practised on the high wooden stage in the gym.

  “Now go straight to your granny’s house. And don’t talk to strangers,” said Mary who was Red Riding Hood’s mother.

  ’Yes, Maman. I will. I mean, I won’t,” promised Red Riding Hood (who was really Sophie). She skipped off to Granny’s through the forest, swinging her basket of goodies. All the forest creatures joined her for the forest dance.

  During the long forest dance, Sophie got tired of skipping between the trees and the creatures. It had been a lot more fun to clump around like a forest buffalo with her big boots on. Her feet got tangled in her laces. She tripped and fell flat on her face.

  Madame Mimi wrung her hands and sighed loudly.

  That night at the supper table, Sophie announced that her class was doing Red Riding Hood for the Spring concert.

  “And I’m the Star of the show,” she said.

  “Really?” said Maman. “We must come and watch you.”

  The whole family said they would come. Even Grand’maman.

  “Such a special occasion, I must wear my new hat,” she said with excitement.

  The day before the concert Elizabeth came back to school. She was still covered with chicken pox marks which looked like red ink spots but the doctor said she wasn’t contagious.

  “Ah, dear, dear Elizabeth. We’re so, so happy that you’re back!” cried Madame Mimi, clasping her hands together. “Now you can be our Red Riding Hood for our concert tomorrow. Thank you, Sophie for your help. You may go back to being our lead forest buffalo.”

  What could Sophie tell her family? They were all expecting her to be the Star of the show. And now, here she was just a plain ordinary forest buffalo.

  That night at the supper table, she said, “Ah, Maman. Maybe you shouldn’t all come to the school concert tomorrow. So many people will be coming. Maybe, maybe there won’t be enough chairs for you.”

  “What? Miss a chance to see our Sophie be the Star of the show? Don’t you worry. We’ll be there. No matter what.”

  After supper, Sophie snuck Maman’s pen and a bottle of red i
nk and went to her new secret hideout in the backyard.

  There she carefully drew red spots all over her hands and face. She even put spots all the way up her arms. They looked like chicken pox spots, almost as real as Elizabeth’s.

  “Oh, Maman,” she said, rushing inside. “I can’t go to the concert tomorrow. I have the chicken pox. Look!”

  “Hum,” said Maman, feeling Sophie’s forehead. “Are you a little worried about the concert, Chérie?“

  Sophie started to shake her head, but she nodded instead.

  “But you shouldn’t worry,” said her mother, hugging her close. “We’ll all be there. The whole family. And I’ve told all our friends. They said they’d come too. We’ll all be so proud of our Sophie. No matter what.”

  Friends too! This was going to be a disaster!

  The next evening the children on the stage nervously milled about the pretend trees. Sophie peeked out between the heavy curtains. The gym was packed with people. Every seat was taken. Stretched across the front row was her entire family: Maman, Papa, Joseph, Henri, Arthur, Zephram and even Grand’maman in her fancy new hat.

  Soon the curtains swished open.

  Elizabeth skipped onto the stage in her shiny pink ballet slippers.

  Sophie led the forest creatures in a good loud clumpy buffalo dance around Red Riding Hood as she twirled and pirouetted through the forest to her grandmother’s cottage.

  When Red Riding Hood was in her grandmother’s cottage, she said in a squeaky voice to the Big Bad Wolf, “Oh, Grandmother! What big teeth you have!”

  The Big Bad Wolf roared, “The better to eat you up!” And he sprang at Red Riding Hood.

  “Oh help! Help! Save me!” squeaked Red Riding Hood.

  “Save me!”

  Jake, the woodcutter stumbled on-stage with his cardboard ax.

  Then he just stood there looking out at the audience, at all those faces staring at him, and he didn’t say a word.

  “Never fear. I have come to save you!” Sophie prompted in a loud whisper, to remind him of his lines.

  “Eek! Help! Save me! Save me!” squeaked Red Riding Hood again, louder this time. “This Big Bad Wolf’s going to eat me up!”

  Sophie looked at Jake. He still didn’t move. Someone had to save Red Riding Hood. There was just one thing to do.

  Sophie lowered her buffalo head and butted down the cottage door. Then she roared a big loud angry buffalo roar and chased away the Big Bad Wolf. She chased that Big Bad Wolf right off the stage.

  “I’m really a woodcutter in disguise,” she told Red Riding Hood. “And I’ve come to save you.”

  The audience laughed and clapped.

  When the curtains swished closed, Sophie forgot to step back. She was caught out in front of the audience. Alone.

  Then Madame Mimi came out too. “Thank you, ladies and gentlemen. Tonight we have a new Star,” she said, her arm around Sophie. “Merci, Sophie. Thank you. You saved our Red Riding Hood. And you certainly saved our play.”

  The audience, including Sophie’s family all clapped again and cheered so loudly that Sophie took a deep breath and grew a couple of inches taller right on the spot.

  Now she knew how Star Girl must feel when she came to the rescue.

  One sunny Saturday morning Sophie perched like a bird up on the chicken coop in the backyard. She curled her bare toes over the edge of the roof and surveyed her neighbourhood.

  There, at one end of the back lane was Lum King working in his garden, digging between the long rows of vegetables with his hoe. At the other end of the lane, Old Man Anderson was raking the grass under a cloud of blossoms on his cherry tree. Sophie could smell the sweet blossoms all the way down the lane.

  “Hey, Sophie! Jump! I dare you to,” Jake yelled up to her from next door.

  She sat on the edge of the roof and swung her legs. She looked down. The ground was not that far away. She took a deep breath and pushed herself off the roof into the air.

  For a split second, as she plunged towards the mossy ground, her stomach turned and she felt as if she was really and truly flying!

  She rolled into a ball when she hit the ground, got up and scrambled through the chicken pen. She ignored the scolding hens and clambered back onto the roof.

  This time she stood right up on the roof. She took a deep breath and flung herself out into the air again.

  “It’s amazing!” she told Jake, brushing herself off. “That’s how Star Girl must feel when she flies. If I had a cape like hers, I bet I could fly too.”

  “Ordinary people can’t fly,” scoffed Jake. “Bet you can’t jump from the very top of the roof,” he challenged.

  She eyed the roof. “Bet I could. If I had a cape.”

  They found an empty chicken feed bag. Sophie shook out the dust and tied it around her shoulders.

  This time she climbed to the very top of the slanted roof of the chicken coop. She clung to the peak with her bare toes like a long-legged bird, and took a deep breath. She hitched up her brother’s hand-me-down jeans and looked down. The ground was far away but Star Girl wouldn’t be a bit scared, she thought. She took another deep breath.

  Then she flung herself off the roof. She stretched out her arms, lifted her face, and willed herself to go up, up, up, into the blue sky. Her fall seemed to go on and on and on. Finally the ground claimed her.

  “Sophie!” she heard her mother gasp from the back door. “Oh my! Sophie!” Maman swooped down the steps and along the path to the chicken coop. “What in heaven’s name are you doing?” she demanded when she saw Sophie wasn’t hurt.

  “I…I just wanted to fly, Maman.”

  “How very unladylike!” Maman turned and glared so hard at Jake that he slunk back into his own yard. ’You could have broken your neck, Sophie! Come into the kitchen this minute and help me set the table for lunch.”

  After lunch while Maman practised her piano and Grand’-maman rocked in her chair knitting, Sophie looked through her Star Girl comics. She studied the pictures of Star Girl flying. She had to figure out Star Girl’s secret.

  First of all, she noticed that Star Girl wasn’t wearing jeans. She was wearing what looked like a bathing suit with a wide belt around her middle. She also had wrist bands and a headband with a star on it. And her swirling cape speckled with stars was a lot bigger than an old chicken feed bag.

  Sophie went down to the basement where the family’s boxes were stored. In a big box labeled “Pour L’ été” she found her last year’s bathing suit and a wide black leather belt. She also found some red ribbon. In another box she found a white parachute her mother was saving to make curtains.

  She slipped into the bathing suit and buckled on the belt. She twisted the ribbon around her wrists and around her head. Then she tied the silk parachute around her shoulders, flattened down her curly hair as best she could and went out again to try to fly.

  She plowed through the chicken yard, scattering the protesting chickens. She boosted herself up onto the chicken coop. Then she scrambled to the very top of the steep roof. She stood there tall on the peak, the wind unfurling her huge cape behind her.

  This time it had to work.

  “Go Star Girl!” she heard Jake yell.

  She gave him a Star Girl salute and took a deep breath. Then she hurled herself off the roof, arms out-stretched. She stared up into the deep blue of the sky and willed herself to go up, up, up and lose herself in its blueness. The wind tugged at her cape.

  There, just for a moment, she felt suspended in space.

  There, just for a moment, she was sure she was flying.

  But it didn’t last long. It didn’t last nearly long enough.

  She tumbled to the ground and rolled into a somersault, her long cape tangled around her.

  “That’s not really flying,” scoffed Jake from his perch on the fence. “I told you ordinary people can’t fly.”

  “I think I’ve almost got it. I just have to try harder,” Sophie said and climbed to the top of
the roof again. She leaped out into the air.

  Still it wasn’t quite right. She tried again. And again. She even tried sticking chicken feathers into her hair and wrist bands and her bathing suit. But still she couldn’t fly. Maybe Jake was right. Maybe ordinary people just couldn’t fly.

  “Know what?” Jake said. “We could make a terrific kite out of that cape.”

  Sophie held out the cape. It was really no use. She took off her cape and they made it into a fierce dragon kite with fiery eyes, a long tail and enormous outstretched wings.

  Jake got some sturdy twine and they carried the kite to Lum King’s field to launch it. That afternoon was especially windy. Perfect for kite flying.

  “You carry it to the end of the field,” Jake said. “Hold it up as high as you can until the wind catches it. I’ll tell you when to let go.”

  Sophie ran carrying the kite, the wind breathing life into the dragon’s mouth as she picked up speed.

  “Okay,” Jake yelled. “That’s far enough.”

  Sophie held the kite high above her head, then let it go. It leapt out of her hands. It swirled around and around, then bounced down onto the grass.

  Jake tugged at the long string but he couldn’t get the kite up.

  “You come and hold the string, Sophie. I’ll see if I can get it up. Whatever you do, don’t let go of the string. We don’t want to lose it.”

  “I won’t let go,” she promised.

  Jake lifted the kite and spread out the dragon’s broad wings which fluttered in the wind and the long tail streamed out like a real dragon’s tail. He heaved it up into the breeze. The wind caught it and whipped it skyward.

  Sophie felt the kite’s energy tingling in her fingers. She wound the stout string around her wrist and held on with both hands. The nimble kite soared up into the sky, higher and higher, tugging at her. But still she held on. Then an enormous gust yanked the kite higher still until it lifted her right off the ground! She held on and tried to reach the ground, but her toes skimmed the top of the long grass.