Sophie Sea to Sea. Norma Charles
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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.
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