Читать книгу Sophie Sea to Sea - Norma Charles - Страница 5

Wednesday after school, Sophie LaGrange saw it in the window of Tussaud’s Epicerie.

“Look at that!” she said, grabbing Marcie’s sleeve and pointing to the cluttered display.

“A new Star Girl comic!” squealed Marcie. “A special Star Girl Reviewl Look how thick it is!”

“It’s thick, all right,” Sophie said. “The Best of Star Girl’s Dazzling Adventures for 1948 plus two brand new issues free!” she read, her heart beating fast.

The cover featured Star Girl swinging from a rope toward two shifty-eyed crooks trying to sneak off with bulging packs of jewels. Star Girl, outstretched in an action pose, was wearing her red suit, a wide black belt with a bright yellow star buckle, a headband also emblazoned with a yellow star, and her swirling star-studded cape.

“I’ve just got to have that comic for my Star Girl collection,” said Sophie. “But twenty cents! And I don’t get my allowance until Saturday.”

“Me either. But aren’t you leaving on Saturday?”

The window fogged up with Sophie’s sigh and she couldn’t see the comic any more.

“Not until Monday now,” she muttered, trying to wipe the window with the elbow of her raincoat. “We’ll be packing up Papa’s new car and the trailer on the weekend. We’ll leave first thing Monday morning.”

Sophie nudged a rock with her toe. She wished Monday would never ever come. They’d be leaving Montreal for good, all her friends, their neighbours, everyone. Why did they have to move all the way across Canada to Maillardville? That was almost as far west as you could go and still be on land. Who wanted to live on the edge of the Pacific Ocean anyway?

“I just thought of something!” blurted Marcie. “What if Roberta Smith sees it?”

“You’re right! She’s always boasting she has every single Star Girl comic. She’ll grab that one before Saturday if we don’t buy it first.”

“We could always make sure she doesn’t see it,” Marcie said, with a gleam in her eye.

The bell over the door jangled as they rushed into the Epicerie.

“Bonjour, mesdamoiselles,” said Madame Tussaud, putting down her newspaper. “What can I do for you?”

“Bonjour, Madame,” said Sophie. “Could we look at your comics please?”

“Are you going to actually buy one this time?” asked Madame Tussaud, staring at them over her glasses.

“Um, yes Madame. Sure we are,” said Sophie.

“Well, see that you don’t drip rain on them,” said Madame Tussaud grumpily.

Marcie buried the special Star Girl Review under a stack of Little Lulus and Sophie helped her rearrange the comics into a neat display.

The bell over the door jangled again. While Madame Tussaud was busy talking to Madame Plante and her little boy, Sophie and Marcie slipped out of the store.

“Let’s make sure no one can see it.”

They stared into the front window again. The Star Girl Review was out of sight.

“You’d need Star Girl X-ray vision to see it now,” said Sophie.

Her brother Arthur came riding his bike up on the sidewalk, the badges on his Jughead hat shiny with rain. “Hey, Sophie,” he said, his tires splashing through the puddles. “Martian’s waiting for you. It’s your turn to look after Zephram while she’s at work, remember?”

“I’m coming. I’m coming.” Sophie took one last look at the pile of comics then turned to follow her brother home.

“You know, I’ve never realized it before, but Arthur looks just like you!” said Marcie.

“Yeah, right. If I was six inches taller and wore thick glasses and a stupid Jughead hat all the time, maybe.”

“No, I mean it. You’ve got the same curly hair, same dark brown eyes, same round chin. And besides you’re both so skinny.…”

“I’m not that skinny,” said Sophie, standing straight and tall. “Anyway, I’ve got to get home. See you at school tomorrow.” She pulled the hood of her hair which got frizzy when it got wet. Marcie turned down Saint Michel Road and Sophie walked straight up past Our Lady’s church.

She peeked between some boards in the fence around the vacant lot beside the church. Her secret hideout would have to wait; it was too wet today to check it out. Besides, she had to hurry home.

As she splashed through the puddles, she thought about what Marcie had said and decided she definitely was not anything like her brother. Arthur was twelve, two years older than Sophie, and he and her two other older brothers, Joseph and Henri, got to do all the interesting things she was never allowed to do—riding their bikes to school, playing street hockey or baseball in the alleys.… She knew it wasn’t just because they were older. It was because they were boys. Boys got to do more interesting things than girls, and that’s all there was to it. It just wasn’t fair. But if she had Star Girl’s powers.… Maybe if she got every single Star Girl comic and studied them for clues, she’d discover Star Girl’s secret.

It had been raining all day and there were puddles to splash in everywhere. Her winter boots leaked, so by the time she got to their apartment above Plouff’s Shoe Store, her socks were soaked right through.

She sloshed up the back stairs and burst into the apartment. It smelled of Maman’s delicious cabbage soup simmering on the stove.

“Maman! I’ve got to have my allowance today,” she announced as she entered the kitchen.

Her mother was packing her good dishes into a big cardboard box, wrapping each cup separately in newspaper. The kitchen light made her curly hair look like a fluffy blond cloud.

“But today’s only Wednesday, Chérie,” she said, shaking her head at Sophie. “You know you have to wait until Saturday for your allowance.”

“Oh, please, please, please, Maman!” begged Sophie. “I really, really need it. Just this one time.”

“It seems to me that every week, you say you really need your allowance early. You must learn to be patient, Sophie, and wait for things. It’s all part of growing up. How will you ever become a proper young lady.”

Sophie knew her mother was going to say no. She always said no, but Sophie had to try anyway. She kicked off her boots and yanked off her wet socks.

“There’s another postcard on the piano for you from your cousin, Danielle.”

“Finally!”

The postcard showed a fishing boat plowing through high ocean waves. Danielle, who was a year older than Sophie, and her best friend besides Marcie, had moved to Newfoundland last September. Her mother had found a good job teaching French in the high school in St. John’s.

It’s so cold here there are real icebergs in the harbour although it’s supposed to be spring. Most of the time it’s so foggy we can’t even see them. I can’t believe you’re moving to the west coast! You’ll be so far away. Will I ever see you again?

Ton amie toujours, Danielle xxxx

Sophie read the card aloud to Maman. “See. She doesn’t want me to go either,” she said. “If we have to move, why can’t we move to Newfoundland instead of B.C?”

“Papa has been offered an excellent job in B.C. You’ll make new friends once we get there. You’ll see,” she said.

“But we haven’t even seen where we’ll be living.”

“Papa’s new boss has found us a good house to rent near where hell be working,” said Maman, taking off her flowery apron and shaking it out. “Now, Zephram’s still sleeping, but he’ll be awake soon. Could you please set the table so well be ready for supper when I come back upstairs at six?”

“Okay.”

Maman hung her apron on the hook beside the ice box and went downstairs to Plouffs’ Shoe Store where she worked afternoons.

While Sophie set the big wooden table in the kitchen for herself, Maman, Papa, Arthur, Joseph and Henri, she thought about Danielle and the stashed Star Girl Review. Danielle liked Star Girl as much as she and Marcie did and she would have loved the new issue too. Sophie just had to have that one for her collection.

She’d have plenty of time to buy it on Saturday when she got her allowance. If only she could be sure Roberta Smith didn’t get to it first.

On Thursday after school, Sophie and Marcie walked by Tussaud’s Epicerie. They checked the comics in the window.

“Can’t see it, can you?” said Marcie.

Sophie shook her head. “Roberta will never even know it’s there. Oh, look!” She’d spotted two glossy brown crickets hiding under the window ledge.

“They’re waving their antennae at us,” said Marcie.

“I could add them to my bug collection,” said Sophie. “You have anything I could put them in?”

“Here’s my lunch bag,” offered Marcie, taking a neatly folded paper bag from her pocket.

Sophie quickly caught the two crickets and popped them into the bag. She folded the top down so they wouldn’t escape. “I have to hurry home and put them into a jar. See you at school tomorrow, Marcie.”

When Sophie got home, she put her new crickets into a big jar with a lid that had holes punched in the top of it so the crickets could still breathe. Then she lined up her whole bug collection on the window sill where her mother’s fancy ornaments had been before they were packed away.

The afternoon sunshine streamed through the window and warmed the glass jars. Sophie could see her bugs scuttle about, fluttering papery wings and wriggling eyelash-thin legs and antennae.

“There. Now you can see outside,” she told them, patting the glass sides.

As well as the glossy brown crickets, she had ladybugs, spiders, and moths. She’d caught the ladybugs down the street in front of Josline’s Boulangerie which made the crustiest and best tasting baguettes in all of Montreal. She’d captured the spiders and moths at the bottom of their apartment stairs.

From the living room window her bugs could see the street below. A streetcar swished by clanging its bell. It was followed by Monsieur Lemire’s old horse pulling the milk wagon and plodding home after a long day delivering milk. The iron horseshoes made a hollow clippety-clop sound on the pavement.

Sophie’s mother came into the living room. “What in heaven’s name is this!” she exclaimed. “All those bugs! Oh no! We can’t have those nasty things in our living room.”

“But it’s my pet collection!” cried Sophie.

“Bugs for pets? Who ever heard of bugs for pets? What kind of thing is that for a proper ten-year-old girl? Really!”

Sophie hugged the jars so her pets wouldn’t hear.

“You must remove those nasty things at once,” said Maman. Then she sat down at her piano and played a very loud concerto.

Sophie knew it was no use talking to Maman when she was playing her piano like that. She sighed and moved her bugs into the coat closet by the back door. She stacked them into a dark corner.

“I know it’s stuffy in here, but I’ll take you out for fresh air every single day,” she promised.

That evening after supper, while Sophie was in the living room reading her favourite Star Girl comic to her little brother, Zephram, Maman went to get a sweater from the coat closet.

Sophie heard a loud crash. She dropped her comic and dashed to the kitchen. Zephram trailed behind her. Her jars had tumbled out of the closet and their tops had popped off!

Ladybugs and spiders scooted into dark corners while her moths and crickets fluttered away to the ceiling.

“Sophie! Your bugs are everywhere! Catch them! Vite! Catch them!” cried Maman.

They dashed around the kitchen trying to scoop them up. It took a long time with Zephram running around chasing them and screaming his loudest.

When they’d captured them, Maman said, “I want all those nasty things out of my kitchen. Right this minute!”

So Sophie had to move her pets again. This time she hid them in a neat row in the dark space under her bed beside her growing stack of Star Girl comics.

All night long, she lay in bed as still and stiff as a stick so she wouldn’t disturb her pets. But every time she forgot and had to turn over, she heard the jars rattle and bump into each other like grumbling children. It was a good thing her bedroom was far from her parents so Maman couldn’t hear them.

The next morning Maman came to wake Sophie as usual. “Up, Sophie, up. Time to get up for school. It’s your last day. You can’t be late.”

One of Maman’s feet happened to poke under the bed. It nudged the ladybug jar, which bumped the spider jar, which struck the moth jar, which toppled into the cricket jar. The jars all tumbled over and crashed! Tops popped off. Out scurried the bugs. Ladybugs scampered over the quilt. Moths flew to feast upon the blankets. Spiders and crickets ducked into dark sheet tunnels.

“Bugs!” shrieked Maman. “Your bed’s crawling with bugs, Sophie! Vite! Vite! Catch them! Catch them all!”

Sophie raced around trying to catch them again. It took so long to capture them she was late for school.

Before she left, Maman told her, “After school all these insects must go. Right out of your bedroom.”

“But, but.…”

“No buts. If you don’t get rid of them, I will. Every single last one.”

“Yes, Maman,” Sophie promised, reluctantly. “Every single last one.”

After school she hurried straight home without even checking if the Star Girl comic was still at Tussaud’s. She gathered up her bug collection and lugged it upstairs to the attic where her three older brothers shared a bedroom.

“Sorry. No room here!” said Joseph, her oldest brother. He was sixteen, had a man’s deep voice like Papa’s and even a few whiskers on his chin.

She looked around her brothers’ cluttered bedroom. Half-full boxes were everywhere. Arthur was sitting on the floor making himself a new Jughead hat out of Papa’s old grey fedora by turning it inside out and cutting the brim into jagged triangles.

True. There wasn’t space for even a tiny bug collection.

“Don’t be silly, Sophie,” said Henri, her next oldest brother. “We’re moving in a couple days. You can’t take those bugs all the way to B.C. you know.”

“I can so,” she told him. Where else could she keep her collection? There was only one place left.

She put on her jacket and carried the jars outside and down the long staircase from their apartment to the back alley behind the tall brick buildings.

She hated thinking about moving, especially moving so far away. Her family just didn’t understand. If she could bring along something from Montreal, like her bugs, maybe moving wouldn’t be quite so bad. Anyway, she had to find a good place to keep them until Monday.

She came to the vacant lot next to Our Lady’s church. She lifted a loose board in the fence and squeezed inside. The edge of the lot was overgrown with prickly blackberry vines and thin maple trees. She crawled under the vines to the centre of a small mossy clearing where an old wooden packing case lay on its side.

There, in that old packing case was her secret hideout. Her very own place to read her Star Girl collection and store things she didn’t want anyone else to touch. She’d dragged in a couple of long planks and stacked them on crates, one for a table and one for a seat.

On the table she lined up her bug collection: her ladybugs, her spiders, her moths and her crickets.

“There,” she told them. “Now we all can be happy.”

She sat on the plank and watched them in their jars. They were very still. They didn’t move an antenna or a leg. They stood there inside the jars with their tiny eyes wide open, staring out at the scrap of blue sky and pale sunshine filtering through green leaves and branches.

She watched them for a long time. Then she sighed and opened the ladybug jar. Her ladybugs flicked out their tiny wings and flitted away. She opened the spider jar. Her spiders stretched their eyelash thin legs and scurried away. She opened the moth jar. Her moths fluttered their delicate wings and flew away. She opened the cricket jar. Her glossy crickets waved their antennae at her and leapt away.…

Sophie stared at the empty jars and sighed again. All her pets were gone.

Then she noticed the ladybugs were climbing a maple leaf bud, searching for aphids. In the branches behind her, her spiders were weaving intricate webs which reflected the sunshine in a glistening pattern of pink and green and indigo. Her moths were drifting among the new blackberry vine buds, their paper-white wings fluttering in the still afternoon air. Her crickets chirped a beautiful melody.

Now her pets were free to stay in Montreal forever. And that, she decided, is where they belonged. She’d have to face the long journey across the country without them.