Sophie Sea to Sea. Norma Charles
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