Читать книгу Sophie Sea to Sea - Norma Charles - Страница 6

Saturday was a bright sunny day, unusually warm for March. Right after breakfast, Sophie skipped down the street, her allowance jingling in her coat pocket. She loved the sound of two dimes and a nickel clinking together. She was rich. As she passed Josline’s Boulangerie, the delicious smell of fresh cinnamon buns tempted her, but she skipped straight on by.

“Oh, I hope, hope, hope it’s still there,” she sang. When she finally got to Tussaud’s Epicerie, she didn’t stop to look in the window. She rushed inside and went right to the comic book section.

Yes! There it was. Under the Little Lulusl Right where she and Marcie had hidden it. The Star Girl Review. It felt satisfyingly thick. She was sure it was filled with all sorts of dazzling adventures, adventures that were as exciting as Superman’s or Batman’s or Johnny Canuck’s. Star Girl was just as strong and powerful as they were.

While Sophie was paying for the comic, a small pang of guilt struck her. She knew Marcie wanted the comic too. First come, first served, she muttered to herself.

As she was leaving the store, she almost bumped into Roberta Smith.

“Hi, Roberta,” she said, holding her new comic up so Roberta could see it.

“Oh! Is that the new Star Girl?” Roberta asked, her eyes huge with envy.

Sophie nodded and smirked just a little. “A special Star Girl Review.“

When Sophie rounded the corner to their apartment, the pang of guilt had become so strong, she didn’t even feel like reading her new comic. She kept thinking about Marcie going to Tussaud’s with her allowance to buy it. She’d search under the pile of Little Lulus and it wouldn’t be there. She’d be so disappointed she might even cry like she had that time she’d lost her allowance and couldn’t buy a single thing for a whole week.

A crowd was milling about outside Plouff’s Shoe Store. Papa’s new car had arrived! It was a beautiful, shiny blue sedan with four doors and a big slanted trunk.

“It’s just a year old,” Arthur told Sophie. “A 1948 Mercury Montego. It’s got a special ’comfort zone’. And look at that bumper.” The chrome bumper in front was curved into a big shiny smile.

Everyone was rushing around exclaiming, as if the car was the most wonderful thing ever invented. Attached to the rear was a small trailer, about half the length of the car. The trailer’s door was wide open and Sophie could see it was almost full already, mainly with Maman’s black piano and her boxes of dishes and pots. Sophie’s brothers and their friends were busily loading in boxes of blankets and towels.

Sophie dashed upstairs to their apartment.

“Ah, there you are, Sophie. Here’s a suitcase for your clothes,” said Maman, giving her a red suitcase with a big ’S’ taped to its side.

“Do we really have to go, Maman? Can’t we stay here?”

“We’ve been through this already. Your father’s been offered an excellent job in B.C. He’ll use his university training now instead of driving a truck all day.”

“But Marcie’s dad has a good job here. He’s even a boss and he’s an engineer like Papa.”

“Marcie’s father is English. That makes all the difference. All the good jobs are reserved for the English.”

“And that’s why you want us to speak English now?”

Maman nodded. “So when you’re older, no one will call you ’Frenchie’ and give someone else your job. Tu comprends, ma fille?”

Sophie nodded.

“Anyway,” said Maman, “I’m sure you’ll like living out west. You just have to give it a chance. So could you start your packing now? I’ll come and help you after I’ve packed these towels and pots.”

“Oh, I can pack my own stuff, Maman.”

When Sophie went to her room, the cozy alcove off the living room, she still didn’t feel like reading her new Star Girl Review. She put it under her pillow and opened the red suitcase.

She didn’t have many clothes. Maman had already given away her winter sweaters and mitts and she was leaving her school uniform behind because her new school in B.C. didn’t have uniforms. She loaded in her other things: bobby socks and underwear, her Sunday dress, which was getting tight under the arms, a flannelette nightie, two plaid skirts, a green sweater, two white blouses, her boots and her winter coat (which was too good to give away) and the shiny new saddle shoes which Maman had bought at a good price from Plouff’s Shoe Store downstairs.

That left the funny nightcap her grandmother had sent for her birthday last month. The nightcap was round and puffy, made of pink wool and trimmed with shiny blue ribbons. She knew Grand’maman had made it specially for her and she also knew she’d never wear it. If she ever wore a nightcap, which she never did, she’d certainly never wear one like this.

“Could you imagine Star Girl ever wearing such a thing?” she asked herself, shaking her head. She decided to leave it behind.

Trouble was, when Sophie put all the clothes into her suitcase, there still wasn’t enough room for one really important thing—her collection of Star Girl comics. When she tried putting them on top of the clothes they spilled out. She unloaded the clothes, packed in the comics first, then loaded the clothes on top of them. Now she couldn’t close the lid even if she sat on it. Just one thing to do. Leave something else behind besides the fancy nightcap.

Well, she certainly wouldn’t be needing those big winter boots which had holes in the heels anyway. Out they came. She kicked them into the dark space under her bed.

Then she looked at that funny nightcap again. It was very small and wouldn’t take up much space. And it had been a gift from Grand’maman. She jammed it in beside her socks and slammed the lid shut. This time when she sat on it, she managed to snap the buckles.

She slipped her new comic out from under the pillow and stared at the cover. Star Girl looked so strong and brave with her cape swirling about her, her star headband shining.

Sophie knew what she had to do. She rushed into the kitchen. “Maman,” she said. “Do we have any wrapping paper left from my birthday party last month?” Sophie was glad her birthday had come before they left Montreal so that she could have one last party with all her friends.

“By the door, there should be some,” said Maman.

Early Monday morning, after a quick breakfast and an even quicker dish washing, the LaGrange family loaded their suitcases into the trunk of Papa’s new car.

Sophie’s stomach was crazy with butterflies. She looked around. She was sure Marcie would come to say good-bye. But where was she? Maybe it was too early and she was still in bed. It was bad enough having to leave the only neighbourhood she could remember, but if she couldn’t at least say good-bye to her very best friend.…

Everyone else in the neighbourhood had come to see them off. All her brothers’ pals were there, milling about like ants on an ant pile, inspecting the loaded car and trailer. The Plouffs from downstairs were there. And so were the Johnsons, the young couple from across the street with the new baby. Even old Madame Laframboise was there, leaning on her broom, her hair still in curlers.

At the last minute, Marcie came running up the street, her long braids bouncing behind her.

“Sophie!” she said, breathlessly. “I have something for you. Something really special.” She shoved a package into Sophie’s hands. It was wrapped in brown paper and tied with string. “It’s a sort of going away present. Sorry I couldn’t find any fancy paper.”

“And I have something for you.” Sophie gave Marcie the parcel she’d wrapped in leftover birthday paper.

“Don’t open it until you leave,” said Marcie. “It has to be a surprise.”

“And don’t open mine either until we’re out of sight.”

The neighbours kissed everyone in the LaGrange family on both cheeks and shook their hands. Then the family piled into the car. Sophie got to sit in front beside Maman and Zephram while her three older brothers were stuffed into the back seat with bundles of blankets and pillows. They argued about who’d get the window seats.

“Just because you guys are older, it’s not fair that you get to sit beside the windows,” said Arthur.

“You sit in the middle for now,” said Joseph, in his deep voice, “then we can switch when we stop for gas. Okay, Henri?”

“I guess,” said Henri.

Sophie patted the butterflies in her stomach and smiled to herself. She got, not only the window seat, but the front window seat all the way to British Columbia.

As Papa started up the car and tipped his new fedora to the neighbours, they shouted, “Good-bye! Au revoir! See you soon! Don’t forget to come back and visit!”

And the LaGrange family shouted back, “Come and visit us in B.C!”

When Sophie looked out the rear window, she caught a last glimpse of Marcie as the car turned the corner. Marcie’s pink cheeks were shiny with tears. Sophie felt like crying too, but she didn’t want to be teased. She bit her lip and blinked fast.

She undid the string around the parcel Marcie had given her and slipped her fingers into the wrapping. She pulled the paper away. There in the parcel was—she couldn’t believe it!—the special Star Girl Reviewl A copy of the exact same comic she’d given Marcie. Madame Tussaud must have had two!

She knew Marcie would be her best friend forever, no matter where she went.

Before Sophie had finished reading the entire Star Girl Review for the third time, her legs were twitchy and her back was sore from sitting.

“Are we there yet?” she asked.

“We’re barely out of Montreal, Chérie,” said Papa. “We still have a long, long journey in front of us. We’ll soon be out of Quebec, then we’ll drive across Ontario, then through the prairies, Manitoba, Saskatchewan, and Alberta. And finally we’ll cross over the Rocky Mountains and we’ll be in British Columbia. We’ll have covered six out of Canada’s nine provinces.”

Sophie felt tired just thinking about such a long journey. And they hadn’t even left Quebec yet!

She stared out the car window. Farm house after farm house whizzed by in a blur. The spring thaw had come early this year. Already there were bits of pale green and brown showing between islands of grey snow in the farmyards. There was lots of mud, especially in the pastures where the cows stood around munching last summer’s hay. She curled up under Maman’s arm and read her comic again.

After a while she saw a sign at the side of the road. “You are leaving Quebec,” she read. Then there was another one, “Welcome to Ontario.” She felt a small buzz of excitement.

“But where’s the border?” she asked craning her neck to look at the ground beside the trees at the side of the road. “I don’t see any border.”

“There’s no actual line on the ground between the provinces,” Maman said. “Borders are just lines on the map.”

After they’d driven steadily all day, stopping only for gas and a quick lunch which Maman had packed, they reached the outskirts of Kitchener, where Sophie’s Uncle Thomas, Maman’s brother, lived.

The car bumped into a deep pot hole and jolted everyone awake including Zephram, who howled angrily. Papa stopped the car. Sophie and her older brothers tumbled out to see what was wrong.

“A flat!” said Papa. “Good thing we’re near a garage.”

Sophie saw a garage with a blinking sign just ahead.

Papa and Joseph took the flat tire off and put on the spare. Then Papa drove to the garage to have the flat repaired. When they drove closer, Sophie saw the sign said “Miller’s Garage.”

Papa said, “This will probably take some time, so you may as well come out and have a stretch.”

“I’ll telephone Thomas and see if he can come and pick some of us up,” said Maman. “The sooner I get Zephram in bed, the better.”

“You’d better get your suitcases then. I don’t know how long this will take.” Papa opened the trunk and unloaded everyone’s suitcases.

Sophie got her own suitcase and followed Maman, who was carrying a fussy Zephram into the shop beside the garage. Joseph, Henri, and Arthur grabbed their baseball gloves and a ball and started playing catch.

While Maman used the telephone, Sophie looked around the shop. She had a nickel left from her allowance and it was clinking in her pocket against a flat stone with a white wishing ring around it.

The shop was lined with shelves of chocolate bars, Double Bubblegum, black jawbreakers, and home-made crafts like bird houses and knitted baby sweaters and booties. But, in a corner, she saw a stack of comics!

She thumbed through them. They were all new with crisp, shiny covers. Some Little Lulus, some Archies, even some Supermans, but no Star Girls. Little Lulu was good though. Sophie sat on her suitcase to read. She read through one, then another, and another.

At the bottom of the pile she found the latest Star Girl comic, March, 1949. It cost ten cents so she couldn’t buy it, but she could read it.

After a while, she noticed things had become strangely quiet. She couldn’t hear her brothers shouting to each other outside anymore. She couldn’t hear Maman talking to Mrs. Miller, telling her how the family was enduring a long trip across Canada. All she could hear was a steady hammering from the workshop.

Sophie grabbed her suitcase and raced to the door. She stared outside. The car was gone! Papa’s car was gone!

She dashed out, her suitcase bumping against her leg. The car wasn’t in front of the pumps. It wasn’t anywhere!

“Papa! Papa!” she shouted as she ran down the road, dragging her suitcase. “Maman! Wait for me! Wait for me! Wait! Don’t leave me behind!”

Papa’s brand new Mercury and its little trailer had disappeared down the road into the evening dusk.

Sophie turned back to the garage. She almost started crying, but she shook her head and blinked hard. She’d ask Mrs. Miller if she could use her telephone to call her uncle. But just as she reached the shop, the lights in the window went out!

She hurried to the door. Locked! She knocked, loudly.

“Mrs. Miller, Mrs. Miller!” she called. The lights went on again and there was Mrs. Miller’s friendly face at the door. She looked surprised.

“But you’re still here!” said Mrs. Miller. “Your mother left at least half an hour ago. Your uncle picked her up with your little brother. I thought you went with them too. And your father, he left as soon as his tire was repaired. It didn’t take us very long.”

She shook her head. She had to blink really hard now.

“We’ll just telephone your uncle’s place,” said Mrs. Miller, kindly. “Come in. Come in. I’ll look up his number in the telephone book.”

When they found the number, Sophie called. Her aunt said they thought she was coming with Papa.

“But they’ve already left!” said Sophie, trying to keep the quiver out of her voice.

“Well, your uncle will have to come back and get you then. He’ll be there in about half an hour.”

“My uncle will be here in half an hour,” she told Mrs. Miller. She sighed a big sigh. She felt better already.

Mrs. Miller nodded. “Good. I’ll stay and keep you company until he comes. Now, the comic? Did you want to buy it?”

“Oh!” Sophie realized she was still clutching the Star Girl comic. “Sorry. I don’t have enough money for it.” As she turned to put it back on the pile, she thought of something.

“Could I trade you something for the comic?”

“You’ve something to trade?”

Sophie opened her suitcase. The first thing she saw was the nightcap her grandmother had sent for her birthday.

“What about this?” she asked, offering Mrs. Miller the pink cap with shiny blue ribbons.

“That’s lovely!” said Mrs. Miller. “For such a fancy nightcap I’d give you two comics.”

By the time Sophie’s Uncle Thomas arrived with Arthur, she’d chosen a Little Lulu to go along with her Star Girl. Mrs. Miller gave her two postcards as well, showing the town of Kitchener with a sign beside the road saying, “Welcome to Kitchener. Keep it as clean as your kitchen.”

Sophie thought she’d send one card to Marcie and the other to her cousin, Danielle, in St. John’s.

It was a snug fit to get the comics into her suitcase, but she managed to squeeze them both in.

Her uncle Thomas was a big jolly sort of man with curly black hair. “Ah, there you are, ma chérie. Welcome to Kitchener. Your chariot awaits, Mademoiselle,” he said, sweeping her into his big green car.