Criss Cross, Double Cross Read online

“I didn’t think...they’d...notice me,” she puffed hard. “They weren’t even looking.”

  “Next time, if there is a next time, you’ll have to wait up here. Agreed?” He sounded so mad at her that she could barely look at him.

  She nodded meekly. “Agreed.”

  Delivering Arthur’s papers wasn’t all that much fun, especially since Arthur was so grouchy and it was one of the hottest days of the summer. Sophie had to remind herself that every delivery was one cent closer to getting her very own bike. They weren’t even half finished the route and her feet were sore and she was so thirsty that her tongue felt permanently glued to the roof of her mouth. She pulled at her blouse. It was stuck to her sweaty back. This was a tough way to earn money.

  One of their last deliveries was down on Brunette Street at LeBlanc’s Barbershop where everyone in the family got haircuts. Monsieur LeBlanc told Arthur he would be going on a holiday for the next few weeks and wouldn’t need the paper.

  Just past the barbershop, the road narrowed as it went over a Bailey bridge. There were no cars coming, so Sophie and Arthur stopped on the bridge and looked at the stream bubbling in the shade between mossy rocks and shiny green ferns. Sweat trickled down Sophie’s face.

  “Let’s go into the water and cool off, Artie!”

  He shook his head. “We can’t. The five-o’clock whistle at the mill went a long time ago, so it must be almost six o’clock now. Mom will have supper ready, and you know how she hates anyone being late.”

  “Oh, please, Artie, just a quick dip. I don’t think I can make it all the way back up the hill, I’m so hot.”

  Arthur was still shaking his head. “What about my bike?”

  “You could leave it here beside the bridge.”

  “What if somebody steals it?”

  “No one will steal it. We can watch it. We’ll just be down there, not that far away. Please.”

  He looked longingly at the cool water splashing under the bridge. “Okay, I guess so. But only a quick dip.”

  While he stashed his bike in a dusty bush beside the bridge railing, Sophie slid down the steep bank, hanging on to roots and weeds.

  “Watch out for the rocks, Artie,” she called over her shoulder as she pulled off her shoes in the shade under the bridge. “They’re really slippery.” She stepped from the soft, muddy bank into the cool water. It swirled around her ankles and she wiggled her toes. Wow! That felt good. It smelled good, too. Fresh and woodsy and cool. She splashed the water into her face and hair and it trickled down her sweaty back. “You’ll love it,” she said, grinning at Arthur. “It’s so cool!”

  He took off his hat and glasses and carefully set them on a dry rock. As he bent over the stream to splash some water into his face, a movement at the top of the bank near the bridge caught Sophie’s eye. She pushed dripping hair out of her eyes to get a better look. It looked like the boy from the paper shack who had teased her brother. The boy leaned over the bush where Arthur had stashed his bike. Sophie gasped and held her breath. He was taking Arthur’s bike!

  “Artie!” she squealed. “That guy’s stealing your bike!”

  Arthur fumbled for his glasses. “What?”

  “Hey, you!” Sophie screamed. “Leave that bike alone!” She flew up the bank, clutching roots and vines, her bare toes digging into the soft earth. “You leave that bike alone, you thief! How dare you!” she yelled her loudest. She’d beat him into a pulp. “Get away, you! That’s my brother’s bike!”

  The boy glanced over his shoulder and dropped the bike. He took off and raced down Brunette Street in a cloud of dust. By the time Sophie got to the bridge, he had rounded the corner and she could barely see him, but she shook her fist and yelled at his back, anyway.

  Panting hard to catch her breath, she picked up Arthur’s bike from the gravel road and wiped the dust off the seat. It looked okay. Nothing appeared to be broken that she could see.

  Soon Arthur had scrambled up the bank, as well. His glasses were on crooked and his hat was soaking, but his dark eyes were shining. “Way to go, Soph! You sure did scare him!”

  She wiped her sleeve across her wet brow and grinned back at him. “Your bike looks okay. I don’t think anything’s broken.”

  He nodded as he examined it.

  “So can I help you with your papers again tomorrow?” she asked him. “Can I?”

  “Yep,” he said, nodding. “Hey, you want to try riding my bike?”

  Sophie couldn’t believe it. “Really? Sure. I’d love to!”

  “I’ll hold on to the back and give you a boost.”

  “I’ll just get my shoes,” she said, scrambling back down to the stream.

  Soon she was back at the road. Stamping her shoes on, she gripped the handlebars tightly, swung one leg over the seat, and straddled the bike, standing on the pedals.

  “Okay,” Arthur said, right behind her. “I’ve got it.”

  She started pedalling. The bike wobbled a lot more than she had expected. She couldn’t reach the pedals if she sat on the seat, so she had to stand, but Arthur didn’t let go. He pushed her halfway up the hill before he got too tired. Then she got off and they both walked, following their long shadows the rest of the way home.

  Since he was in such a generous mood, Sophie thought she’d ask him something. “Hey, Artie. Think we could go to Cap’s tomorrow and check if they have any used bikes that would fit me?”

  “Sure, we could do that. I want to get another tire, anyway. My back tire’s getting pretty bald.”

  Sophie could hardly wait. Maybe tomorrow she’d find the bike of her dreams.

  4

  Saturday was another hot summer day. Arthur’s back tire was flat and he had to repair it and pump it up, so it wasn’t until after lunch that he and Sophie left for Cap’s Bicycle Shop.

  “Can you double me, Artie?” Sophie asked, jogging along behind him.

  “I guess so. Sit on the seat.”

  Sophie mounted the bike.

  “Just be sure to keep your feet out of the spokes,” he warned her.

  She stretched her legs and held on to her brother’s waist. “I’m ready.”

  They whizzed down the hill. The breeze blew past Sophie’s cheeks, cooling them. When they got to the bottom, Arthur turned the bike right and headed for Sapperton. He had to pump hard now and was soon out of breath.

  “You’ll have to get off,” he panted, stopping the bike at the side of the road so Sophie could slide off the seat.

  By the time they got to the cycle shop, Sophie was so hot and tired, she could barely walk.

  Inside, the shop was cool and dark and smelled of oil and dust. There were bikes everywhere, as well as a bunch of boys milling around them. Sophie couldn’t see any small bikes that would fit her except a couple of shiny brand-new ones. One especially beautiful blue bike with shiny fenders and balloon tires like Elizabeth’s was exactly the right size for her. She grasped the handlebars and tried the bell. It was good and loud. She sighed. She knew she could never earn enough money to buy it.

  “Do you have any used girls’ bikes?” she asked one of the shopkeepers.

  “We have one used lady’s bike in the back,” he said, pointing with his chin.

  Sophie went to the back of the shop and saw a lady’s bike that was painted black with a brown leather seat. The handlebars were up to her armpits, but she knew she could ride it. It didn’t have a bar that went from the seat to the handlebars like Arthur’s bike had, so it would be a lot easier to reach the pedals.

  “How much is this one?” she asked a young helper who was sorting out the bikes around her.

  “That one’s twenty-five dollars. A real good deal.”

  Sophie nodded, stroked the back fender, and pinched the tires. If she helped Arthur with his paper route every chance she got, she’d have twenty-five dollars in no time. Then the bike would be hers and she could ride like the wind. She gripped the handlebars and imagined how she would pump up the steep hills and then coast down
them with the breeze blowing through her hair and cooling her cheeks. It was going to be glorious when she had her very own bike. Maybe her brothers would even let her go swimming with them.

  She looked up but couldn’t spot Arthur. She didn’t see his Jughead hat anywhere in the shop. Had he left without her? She hurried to the front of the shop and saw him waiting outside beside his bike.

  He was scowling. “Where were you? I told you I can’t be late for my paper route.”

  “I was in the back looking at a bike. They’ve got one in there, a lady’s bike, and it’s just twenty-five dollars!”

  He wasn’t listening. He mounted his bicycle and started pedalling like mad down the road. Sophie had to run her fastest to keep up with him.

  “We’ll have to take a shortcut through the ravine!” he shouted over his shoulder. Soon they left the road and hurried along a dirt trail, through alder trees and salmonberry bushes. The big, juicy salmonberries were tempting, but Sophie didn’t dare stop to sample them. She didn’t want to lose sight of her brother. After quite a long while, he took an abrupt turn off the main trail and headed steeply downward.

  “Where are we going now?” she yelled at Arthur’s back as she followed him down the narrow path.

  “This trail takes us to the ravine at the end of our road,” he said over his shoulder. “It’s the shortcut.”

  The dirt path became narrower and narrower and steeper and steeper. Bright green ferns and low bushes grew at the edge. Arthur got off his bike and pushed it, skidding along beside it.

  Sophie hurried after him, slithering and sliding down the steep path. It smelled moist and green and the air felt cool and fresh. The street noises became muffled and faded. She could hear water bubbling. There must be a creek close by.

  Arthur stopped abruptly and held his finger to his lips. “Hush!” He pointed to the underbrush.

  Sophie swallowed hard. Was it a bunch of those rough boys from the paper shack? A small tremor shook the shadows by the creek. She caught her breath. Then she saw them. A small herd of deer! Adult deer and their dappled fawns drifted like silent spirits through the light and shadows between the trees and bushes at the water’s edge. Their heads were up and their long ears were pointed in Sophie and Arthur’s direction. They stared at them with big deep brown eyes.

  Sophie froze and stared back, her eyes and mouth wide open. Arthur didn’t move, either. They both stood as still as stones, holding their breath. Then, in a blink of an eye, the deer vanished. They seemed to dissolve into the shadows.

  “Wow,” Arthur whispered, shaking his head. “I heard there were deer down here in the ravine, but I didn’t believe it.”

  “So beautiful,” Sophie said, letting out her breath, her heart beating fast. She strained her eyes, trying to see into the shadows, but the deer had disappeared.

  Arthur continued down to the creek. He pushed his bike into the shallow water and stepped onto a rock.

  “Where’s the bridge?” Sophie asked.

  “We use these stepping stones to cross over. Come on. We’ve got to hurry.” Arthur continued across, pushing his bike and leaping from stone to stone in the rushing water.

  The creek was way too wide to jump over, but the water wasn’t deep. It would be hard for Sophie to keep her balance on the slippery rocks. She picked up a long stick at the edge of the creek. “I’ll get my shoes all wet.”

  “Take them off then,” Arthur said impatiently. He was already on the other side. “You coming across or what?”

  “I’m coming, I’m coming.” She pulled off her shoes and slung them across her shoulders. Using the stick for balance, she got to the first rock. Then she hopped to the second and third. She curled her toes around the edge of the rock. It was smooth and cold and felt good on her bare feet. The creek reminded her of the stream she and Arthur had splashed in the day before, but this one was wider and deeper.

  There were two more rocks to hop. Water flowed over the next one. She leaped to it but missed and tumbled onto her hands and knees into the water. She picked herself up. Her skirt and underwear were soaked, but she had to hurry. Arthur was already pushing his bike up the trail on the other side. If he left her behind, she wouldn’t know where to go. She could get lost. If there were deer down here, maybe there were bears, too. And cougars, or wolves even! Her heart pounded. “Hurry, hurry,” she panted to herself. “Come on, Star Girl!”

  Using the stick for balance, she splashed though the water to the muddy edge of the creek, then scrambled up the steep path. “Wait up, Artie!” she called frantically. “Wait for me!”

  By the time she caught up to him, they were near the top of the ravine. He stopped his bicycle. “See that up there?” he said, pointing to a long rope dangling from a high branch of a tall, overhanging evergreen tree. “Henri and I put it up last week. When you swing on it, it takes you right across the whole ravine.”

  “Wow!” Sophie said, stopping to catch her breath. “Can we try it out now?”

  “Not today. I’m already late enough for my paper route.”

  Pulling on her shoes, Sophie looked longingly at the rope swing. She would come back and try it out the very first chance she had.

  When they were close to the paper shack, Arthur told her, “This time you wait here. I don’t want the other guys seeing you again.”

  He hurried away, and Sophie crouched in the shade beside some bushes. Her skirt was still wet, so it kept her cool. She waited and waited, using her stick to poke into the long grass and weeds in a ditch beside the road. A little frog leaped out, startling her.

  “Croak!” he said to her, blinking. His eyes looked like two shiny black pearls.

  “Croak to you, Monsieur Croak,” she said, giggling.

  Sophie tried to catch him to add to her frog collection, but he hopped across the ditch. She jumped over the ditch and followed him as he hopped in the dry grass beside the road. Then he sprang right onto the road. A car swished by, and its hissing tires just missed him as he darted back into the weeds.

  “Oh, be careful Monsieur Croak!” she squealed. “A car will squish you to bits if you don’t watch out.” She had to rescue him. “Come on, Monsieur Croak.” But he hopped away again. Sophie hurried to where he sat in the buttercups beside the dirt path. She crept up to him and pounced. But when she tried to scoop him up, he hopped away again. He bounded right down to the newspaper shack and she scooted after him.

  “Look, Frenchie’s brought along his little helper again,” one of the big, rough-looking boys snickered. He was slouched against the newspaper shack, chewing on a long piece of grass. “What’s the matter, Frenchie? Paper boy job too tough for you?”

  Arthur swung around. “I told you to wait up on Rochester,” he snapped at Sophie.

  She ignored his scowl and leaped after Monsieur Croak. The frog was in the open now on the packed dirt in front of the newspaper shack. He seemed stunned by the bright sunlight. She lunged at him and swept him up.

  “Got you!” she said, holding the frog in her cupped hands. Then she gave the mean boy one of her best Star Girl glares. It was a different boy than the one who had tried to steal Arthur’s bike the day before.

  The boy stared back at her and wiggled his thick eyebrows. He grinned. “Whatcha got there, kid?”

  “A frog.” She opened her cupped hands a crack to show him.

  “Cute,” the boy said.

  “Croak,” the frog said again, blinking his black pearl eyes at them. He was tiny, not much bigger than Sophie’s thumb, even smaller than Hoppy, her other pet frog. He was a brownish-green colour and had a small flap of a mouth that he kept opening and shutting.

  Arthur had turned his back on her and continued talking with one of the other older boys. The boy looked at least as old as Sophie’s oldest brother, Joseph, who was sixteen and worked part-time at the mill.

  “These papers have to be delivered before six o’clock,” the boy was saying grumpily. “That’s the deadline. Understand? If you can’t ge
t them done by then, I’ll get someone else to take your route.”

  “I’ll get them done on time,” Arthur said. “Really I will.”

  “Don’t be late again,” the boy barked. “Next time I’ll give your route to one of the new guys. Understand?”

  Arthur nodded. He gathered up his pile of newspapers and jammed them into his bike carrier. Then he jumped onto his bike and pedalled furiously up the hill.

  “Wait for me, Artie!” Sophie yelled, hurrying after her brother. “Look what I found, Artie. A frog!”

  When she finally caught up with him, he was fuming. “I told you to wait up here.”

  “I had to rescue this frog. He’s so little, see? He almost got squished by a car.” The frog tickled her hands so she carefully put him into her skirt pocket. “There you go,” she told him. “You’ll be good and safe there.”

  “Humph!” Arthur said. “We’ve got to hurry now if we’re going to get these papers done on time.”

  “What took you so long down at the newspaper shack?”

  “Manager said I was late. He was going to fire me, so I had to talk real fast.”

  “What a mean guy,” Sophie said.

  They raced through the whole paper route, which was hard because Saturday papers were extra thick. By five to six the last paper had been delivered.

  “Whew!” Arthur said. He took off his Jughead hat and glasses and mopped his sweaty brow with his shirtsleeve. “That was way too close.”

  “But we made it on time,” Sophie said, wiping her clammy forehead. “We got all those papers delivered before six o’clock.” Her feet were aching and she was tired and thirsty. Since they didn’t have to deliver a paper to Monsieur LeBlanc, they didn’t have to go all the way down to Brunette.

  “Let’s get home,” Arthur said. “I sure am hungry.”

  “Me, too,” Sophie said. “Starving. I wonder what Maman is cooking for supper tonight.”

  But when they got home and went in through the kitchen door, Maman wasn’t there. Music was coming from the living room. Piano music.

  “Sounds like Maman is still practising those hymns for church tomorrow,” Arthur said.