Sophie Sea to Sea Page 3

  ONTARIO QUICK FACTS

  Motto: Ut Incepit Fidelis Sic Permanet (Loyal it began, loyal it remains). Ontario means “Beautiful Lake” in the Iroquois language.

  Population: 11,506,400 (1999)

  Size: 1,068,580 sq. km

  Capital: Toronto

  Main Industries: Manufacturing, farming, mining, forestry

  Flower: White Trillium

  Bird: Common Loon

  Tree: White Pine

  History:

  In 1630, Etienne Brulé came to live with the Hurons and soon missionaries set up missions along the Great Lakes and fur traders set up trading posts. In 1781, many people loyal to Britain fled the United States and settled around York (now Toronto). In 1867, Ontario was one of the first four provinces that originally formed Canada. The manufacturing industry which developed during World War I and II attracted many workers from all parts of the world which has made Ontario a multicultural society today.

  3

  Sophie sat in the front seat between Uncle Thomas and Arthur. By the time they got to Uncle Thomas’s house, it was dark and the lights of the approaching cars blazed by.

  “They’ve got their own park across the street,” Arthur told her. “Victoria Park.”

  “It doesn’t belong just to us,” said Uncle Thomas. “It’s a public park and anyone can use it. And lots of hooligans do, let me tell you.”

  Uncle Thomas had a fancy looking house made of stone with tall pillars holding up the roof and a grand front porch.

  When they went inside, everyone, especially Arthur, had a good laugh about Sophie being left behind. Sophie didn’t think it was the least bit funny.

  She was to share a bedroom with her cousin, Isabella, whom she hadn’t seen for a long time. Isabella was eight and everything about her was plump and pink. Plump, pink cheeks, puffy pink dress. Even the quilts on the twin beds in her pink bedroom were plump and pink.

  That night Sophie’s dreams were filled with plump pinkness too.

  The next day after breakfast, Papa said, “I really don’t trust that repaired tire can take us all across Canada. I’d feel better with a new tire.”

  Uncle Thomas told him where he could buy a new one. Sophie’s three older brothers got ready to go with Papa. She was about to follow, but Maman said, “I’m sure you’ll want to stay and play with Isabella this morning, Sophie. And later, Aunt Josephine is having some ladies for lunch and she’d like you and Isabella help serve the tea. She’s even bought you a pretty dress to match Isabella’s.”

  The two girls were dressed in the fancy new dresses which made Sophie scratch and itch all over. She thought they looked silly, but Maman and Auntie sighed and said they looked like two adorable sisters with their matching fluffy pink dresses and matching pink hair bows.

  “They’ll be so cute helping Gretchen serve at my luncheon,” said Aunt Josephine. “Now Isabella, take Sophie out and sit on the front porch, but be sure to stay clean and tidy until our guests arrive.”

  The girls put on sweaters and went out into the spring sunshine on the front porch. Isabella brought out her paper doll cut-outs. She had a paper girl doll who was the famous Olympic figure skater, Barbara Ann Scott and a paper boy doll who was also a famous skater but Sophie couldn’t remember his name. Isabella was cutting out wedding clothes for them from the Eaton’s catalogue.

  “Wouldn’t it be romantic if they got married?” she sighed.

  Even before Sophie sat on the steps beside her, she was bored. She stifled a yawn and looked across the street to the park from where she heard shouting. A bunch of kids were there playing Kick the Can; she could hear the loud twang of foot on metal.

  “Hey, Issi. Let’s go to the park and play,” she said.

  “Oh, I’m never allowed to go to the park by myself,” said Isabella, her blue eyes huge.

  “You wouldn’t be alone. I’d be with you. Come on. Just this once. Company won’t be coming for hours.”

  “Well, all right,” Isabella said reluctantly. “I guess it’d be all right if you’re with me.”

  As soon as Sophie left the yard, she was sure she was going to have fun. The sun was shining so brightly, even the air seemed yellow and cheerful.

  They crossed the street, looking both ways first. Not a car in sight.

  Sophie galloped down the sidewalk to the bridge which went over a stream. She stopped halfway across the bridge. Isabella was trailing far behind, huffing and puffing.

  “Wait for me!” she panted.

  While Sophie waited, she stared down into the bubbling water and caught a glimpse of the shiny silver back of a fish making its way upstream. She wished she could swim like it could, but she knew if she fell in, she’d sink straight to the bottom.

  Isabella finally caught up. They crossed over the bridge together, their feet making loud hollow sounds on the wood. They followed a path to where Sophie had seen some kids playing under the trees.

  “Let’s ask if we can play too,” she said, dragging Isabella down the path. “Hey, you guys,” she shouted, pulling off her silly pink hair ribbons. “Can we play?”

  The kids turned around and she realized they were all boys. They were crowded around a dented bean can.

  “Naw,” said the tallest boy, a freckle-faced red head. “No girls allowed.”

  “Why not?” Sophie demanded. “Bet we can run as fast as any of you.”

  “Ha!” said Red. “That’s a joke. Besides we never let D.P.s play with us.”

  “D.P.s? We’re not Displaced Persons.”

  “Where d’you come from then?”

  “I’m from Quebec, but my cousin lives across the street.”

  “Quebec! Then you’re a Frenchie pea-soup. We sure don’t let Frenchie-pea-soups play with us. Especially girl Frenchie-pea-soups.”

  Sophie felt her face flush with anger. “What d’you call me?” She shook her fist under Red’s nose.

  Another boy stepped between them. “I say we let them play.” He was a short stocky boy and he was holding the can so it looked as if it was his turn to be ’It’.

  Sophie gave him her best Star Girl grin and said, “I’ll kick the can for you.”

  “Oh, all right,” said Red, shrugging. “Let them play. See if I care.”

  Sophie backed up and gave the can her best Star Girl kick. It went “Twang!” and flew over the puddles and new grass into some bushes by the stream. When the stocky boy ran to retrieve the can the other boys scooted away to hide.

  Sophie grabbed Isabella’s hand and dragged her behind some rocks. Isabella was so slow they didn’t get hidden before the stocky boy, whose name was Ned, had found the can and brought it back to the goal.

  He saw them and yelled out, “One, two, three, I see you.” So Sophie had to be ’It’ next.

  Ned kicked the can for her. It landed in a puddle. By the time Sophie managed to fish it out with a stick and race back to the goal, everyone was out of sight. Even Isabella.

  Suddenly, Sophie heard a splash and a shriek coming from the stream. She dashed past the rocks and saw a flash of pink. Someone was floundering in the muddy weeds near the shore. Isabella!

  Sophie rushed down into the water, forgetting that she couldn’t swim. She plowed through the current and grabbed the back of Isabella’s dress. She yanked her out of the stream and dragged her back up the bank. Isabella’s beautiful pink dress was soaked right through and was so muddy, it looked like a dirty old potato sack.

  “What happened to you?” Sophie asked, trying to brush the mud off Isabella’s skirt.

  “I was taking a short cut to those rocks, but I slipped. Now what are we going to do?” Isabella sniffed loudly and rubbed her eyes with her fists. Sophie could see she was trying hard not to cry.

  “Hey, Issi. It’s okay,” she said.

  “But what will Mother say? She’ll be so mad.”

  “Don’t worry. I bet we can sneak in the back door and get you all cleaned up in no time flat.”

  The boys crowded ar
ound them.

  Red said, “Told ya we shouldn’t let girls play.”

  Sophie put her nose up into the air and sloshed right past him in her soaked socks and shoes. She led Isabella back to the path and across the bridge.

  When they were crossing the road, Isabella squealed, “Oh no! There’s Mrs. Vandermeer and Miss Schwartz! They’re here already!”

  Sophie shoved her into a nearby shrub and ducked behind her. “It can’t be lunch time already! We’ve just had breakfast!” she muttered.

  They waited until the two ladies with their flowery hats rang the front door bell and had been greeted by Gretchen, the maid. Then the girls snuck down the sidewalk and opened the gate.

  “Good. No one’s in sight,” said Sophie. “We’ll sneak around to the back door.” As they crept around the side of the house, she wished she had Star Girl’s powers of X-ray vision. Then she’d know if anyone was in the kitchen. “We’ll just have to chance it,” she whispered to Isabella.

  They took off their wet socks and shoes and tiptoed up the back steps. They quietly eased the back door open.

  “Sophie! There you are!” said Aunt Josephine. She was in the kitchen getting a tray of tea cups. “I was just… oh, goodness gracious! Isabella!” she squealed. “Look at you!”

  Sophie gulped hard and tried to spread her skirt out to hide her cousin, but it was no use. Aunt Josephine had already seen her. So had Maman. And so had the fancy ladies. They were in trouble now!

  Aunt Josephine dropped the silver tray onto the counter with a loud clatter.

  “Isabella! What in the world has happened to you?”

  Isabella stood by the door, dripping muddy water onto the shiny kitchen floor. She was sniffing really hard now and looked about to burst into tears.

  “It’s all my fault, Aunt Jo,” Sophie said quickly. “Issi and I went over to the park and there was a little accident.”

  Sophie didn’t dare look at Maman. She knew her eyes would be blazing with anger.

  “An accident?” croaked Auntie Josephine.

  “She slipped,” said Sophie. “She slipped and fell into the stream. But she’s not one bit hurt. Just muddy. Right Issi?”

  “Excuse me, ladies,” said Aunt Josephine quite frostily, “while I help my daughter change.” After an angry look at Sophie, she whisked Isabella out of the kitchen.

  Maman picked up her tray from the counter. “Shall we all go into the drawing room for a nice cup of tea?” she said to the guests. “May I recommend the petits fours? I made them myself this morning.”

  The ladies nodded and left the kitchen.

  Maman hissed to Sophie, “Wash your hands and face and come and help Gretchen serve. We’ll discuss this later.”

  Sophie quickly washed up at the kitchen sink, got some dry socks and shoes on, then carried a tray of fancy sandwiches into the drawing room.

  The whole rest of the afternoon she had to sit in the stuffy drawing room at the tea party. It was the most boring day she could remember. She thought it would never end. Though Maman’s petits fours were delicious. Especially the chocolate ones sprinkled with coconut.

  When the ladies finally left, Maman was so busy with Zephram that she never got around to scolding Sophie, although Aunt Josephine didn’t smile at Sophie once the whole evening. But then she didn’t smile at anyone.

  Sophie wrote the same message on her postcards for Marcie and Danielle.

  Like the sign on the postcard says, Kitchener sure is a clean town. And I found out that they don’t care much for dirty children either. You know how hard it is to stay clean playing Kick the Can.

  Ton amie toujours,

  Sophie. xxxxxx

  The LaGranges left early the next morning after breakfast. Sophie had the feeling that Aunt Josephine was very glad to see them leave. But Isabella gave her a hug and whispered, “I’ve never had so much fun in my whole life. I hope you come back soon.”

  For four long wet rainy days Papa drove their new car through Ontario past the Great Lakes, past Sudbury and the piles of mine holes that made it look like a moonscape.

  They stayed in a musty-smelling hotel in Sault St. Marie and another one in Port Arthur. Arthur was proud that he’d been named after a town, but Papa told him that he’d been named after his grandfather, Papa’s father. Before they got to Port Arthur, they stayed overnight with one of Maman’s old aunts who lived in Goutreau.

  It seemed to take forever to travel across Ontario. Every now and then they caught a glimpse, through the tall evergreen trees, of a grey Lake Superior.

  “Canada’s largest lake,” Papa told them.

  Staring out the car window at the lake’s greyness made Sophie feel as bleak and lonely as she had when she first went to St. Joseph’s in grade three and she didn’t know one single person in her class. That’s when she’d met Marcie, who, it turned out, was new as well. She would never ever meet anyone who’d be as good a friend as Marcie.

  MANITOBA QUICK FACTS

  Motto: Glorious et Liber (Glorious and Free)

  Manitoba’s name is from Manitoe bou which means “place of the Great Spirit” in Cree.

  Population: 1,142,100 (1999)

  Size: 649,950 sq. km

  Capital: Winnipeg

  Main industries: Farming, manufacturing

  Flower: Prairie Crocus

  Bird: Great Grey Owl

  Tree: White Spruce

  History:

  Early inhabitants of Manitoba were the Plains nation who hunted bison and caribou. In 1670, the Hudson’s Bay Company set up trading posts to trade goods for furs but in 1750 the Northwest Company set up rival trading posts, buying and selling beaver pelts to make hats for European gentlemen. In 1811, Scottish farmers came to settle the Red River Valley which interfered with the roaming life of the Plains nation and the Métis. As more settlers came, the Metis and their leader, Louis Riel seized Upper Fort Garry, but soldiers drove them away.

  In 1870 Manitoba became Canada’s fifth province. Many other people came from all over the world to farm and today, farming wheat, canola, and oats are important to Manitoba’s economy, as is manufacturing.

  4

  The LaGrange’s shiny new car became muddier and muddier with each passing mile. Finally, they passed a sign at the side of the road.

  “You are now leaving Ontario,” read Sophie. “Thank you for coming.” Then there was another sign. “Welcome to Manitoba.” Manitoba! They must be almost there! Again she looked for some kind of line or fence that would be the border between Ontario and Manitoba, but she didn’t see anything except a bunch of scrubby trees lining both sides of the road. This looked exactly like Ontario.

  After a while they left the highway and drove along a bumpy gravel road. There was another sign. “Bienvenue á Ste. Anne des Chênes,” read Sophie. “What’s Chênes,“

  “It means oaks,” said Maman. “Welcome to Saint Anne of the Oaks.”

  “I helped plant some of those oak trees with my father when I was a boy,” said Papa. “This is the town where I was born. My own home sweet home.”

  From the back seat, Arthur, Joseph and Henri started singing, “We’re here because we’re here because we’re here because.…” as the car bounced from puddle to puddle along the gravel road and the windshield wipers kept time.

  Sophie looked past Maman to Papa’s broad hands on the steering wheel. It was hard to believe that such an old person with a big black mustache and bushy eyebrows could once ever have been a baby like Zephram. Papa must have been a baby once, even if it was a very long time ago.

  The car bumped down what looked like the main street of a small village. A row of brick houses huddled around a church with a tall steeple.

  “That’s where I went to school for grades one to twelve,” Papa said, pointing to a square building beside the church.

  Sophie stared out the car window at the small building beside the church. “Looks too small for all those grades,” she said.

  “It had only two ro
oms,” said Papa. “One for the little kids and one for the bigger ones. Thirty, maybe forty students in the whole school. When I finished grade twelve, only two other students graduated with me.”

  He turned the car down an even bumpier road. As they descended a slope, Sophie saw the road led across a grey cement bridge with tall round sides that looked like two halves of huge cement wagon wheels stuck onto the riverbank. The muddy water of the river streaming past the bridge was almost as high as the road.

  “Sacré Bleu! In all my born days, I’ve never seen the water in that river so high,” said Papa. “They had so much snow here last winter, Grand’maman wrote she was worried about what would happen when it melted.”

  “It looks like it’s almost flooding the road,” said Maman.

  Papa nodded and looked worried as the car splashed across the bridge. “The Seine River,” he said, turning the car right again. “Named after the river that flows through Paris. Same muddy colour, they say.” He stopped the car in front of a gate. “So who wants to open the gate?”

  “Me, me!” shouted Sophie. Before her brothers could beat her to it, she scrambled out of the car and ran through the rain to the high gate.

  Mud stuck to her running shoes and the rain was cold on her bare head, but not as cold as the metal gate. She pulled her sweater sleeves down over her hands and unhitched the wire loop from the wooden post. She pushed the gate open with her cuffs and waited for Papa to drive past.

  She jumped up onto the bottom rung of the gate and swung it closed. It banged against the post but she couldn’t get the wire hitch all the way over the top. She didn’t want to be left behind so she decided she’d come back later and hitch the gate up properly. She dashed through the rain back to the car.

  Papa drove up a winding driveway and stopped beside a tall narrow house. Before they’d even opened the car doors, Grand’maman was there.

  She hugged Papa and kissed both his cheeks. “Bienvenue! Welcome, welcome,” she said. “So you’re finally here. You didn’t get lost after all.”