Sophie’s World Page 7

  Anne-Stuart nodded. “We wouldn’t have said anything if we weren’t sure.”

  “I’m certain of that, girls. I just think someone else may have been privy to additional information.” She tilted her chin toward the hall and called, “Come on in.”

  Maggie stepped in, stomping to the front like a chunky soldier.

  “This is Maggie LaQuita,” Ms. Quelling said to Mama and Boppa. “Maggie, please tell everyone what you told me.”

  “They didn’t cheat,” Maggie said. “Fiona and Sophie had a code of signals. But it isn’t what you think. Fiona coughs at Sophie when she sees her daydreaming, so she can keep her mind on her work.”

  “How do you know that, Maggie?” Ms. Quelling said.

  “I heard Sophie and Fiona talking about it all last week.”

  Julia raised an arm, ponytail swinging. “Maggie could be lying for them.”

  “I don’t think so,” Ms. Quelling said, her voice soft. “That’s the same story Fiona and Sophie gave me Friday when I questioned them.”

  It sounded to Sophie as if Ms. Quelling were apologizing to the Pops.

  “I’m sure you girls were just trying to help,” Ms. Quelling said. “But next time, you might want to check out your facts a little better before you make an accusation, okay?”

  “We never meant to make trouble,” Julia said. Her friends all nodded except for Kitty, who put her face in her hands and cried.

  “Did you want to say something, Kitty?” Ms. Quelling said.

  “She’s really sensitive,” Anne-Stuart said. “She doesn’t like to hurt anybody’s feelings.”

  “None of us do,” Julia said.

  Fiona dug her nails so hard into Sophie’s palm that Sophie was sure she was going to draw blood.

  Ms. Quelling turned to the group at the table. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m sure you can see why I was torn. I’ll remove my comments from Sophie and Fiona’s permanent records. Please accept my apologies.”

  “Apology accepted,” Mama said without smiling. Boppa nodded in agreement. He didn’t smile either.

  “Can we go now?” Julia said.

  “Yes. Thank you, girls,” Ms. Quelling said.

  The Corn Pops hurried through the door, and Maggie trailed out behind them. Fiona held onto Sophie for about fifteen seconds before they, too, escaped to the hall. By then, the Corn Pops were down at the other end, gathered in a circle around Kitty, who was wailing like a baby.

  Maggie suddenly appeared and stood in front of Sophie and Fiona.

  “Thanks for sticking up for us,” Sophie said. “You saved our lives.”

  “Yeah, thanks,” Fiona said. “Only from now on, could you not spy on us?”

  “I won’t have to anymore,” Maggie said. “Because I’m going to be playing with you.” She gave them a logical smile. “I figure now you owe me.”

  “Oh,” Sophie said. “Well then, we’ll see you tomorrow—at lunch, I guess.”

  As Maggie walked off in even, plodding steps, Fiona turned to Sophie, mouth already open in protest, but Boppa and Mama came out of Ms. Quelling’s room.

  “I’m sure you two want to spend some time with that camera tonight,” Mama said. Her eyes were shiny. “Boppa says you can come over now and stay for supper, Fiona, if you both get your homework done first thing.”

  Fiona and Sophie squealed in unison.

  After dinner, during which Sophie could barely take a bite of meatloaf, Daddy unrolled the progress report. He let his eyes work down to the bottom and rolled it back up. He tapped Sophie lightly on the head with it and gave her the Daddy-grin.

  “Looks like I’m going to have to turn over that camera.”

  Sophie shrieked so loud she was sure she sounded like Willoughby.

  Daddy showed them that the camera was pretty simple. The buttons he said she needed to know about seemed made for her as they fit in all their silvery-ness under her fingertips. The minute she squinted into the eyepiece it became clear that Sophie’s world was meant to be seen through a camera lens. As she pointed it at Fiona, her friend filled a frame that shut out all the mundane stuff.

  “Let’s get started!” Fiona said to her. “Henriette and Antoinette are waiting!”

  They worked until dark. When they viewed their first film on the camera’s tiny screen, Antoinette and Henriette often had their heads chopped off, but Mama said it wasn’t bad for a first try.

  “We’ll get better with practice,” Fiona said.

  “You think?” Sophie said.

  “Oh, definitely. We can do this whole thing over tomorrow at recess.”

  Daddy looked up from the viewer. “You’re talking about at school?”

  “Yes,” Fiona said. “We can do whatever we want after lunch for almost a half-hour.”

  “Sophie can’t take the camera to school,” Daddy said.

  “Why?” Fiona said.

  Sophie winced. Daddy looked startled that she had even asked, and his voice went into lecture mode. “One: it’s expensive, and if it disappears, I can’t replace it.”

  “My dad would just give you—”

  “Two: I see nothing but trouble developing with those little—”

  “Girls,” Mama said quickly.

  “—who can’t mind their own business. And three: the whole idea of having this camera is to focus Sophie on her pretend stuff when it’s appropriate. And that isn’t at school.”

  Fiona watched him, bright-eyed. Daddy suddenly grinned at her. “Do you need more information?” he said.

  “No, that’s plenty,” Fiona said.

  “Why don’t you two do your planning during free time and then do the actual filming after school and on weekends?” Mama said.

  Fiona nodded. “We’ll figure out a schedule.” She looked at Sophie. “Do you have a planner on your computer?”

  “I don’t have my own computer,” Sophie said.

  Daddy groaned. “Don’t put any ideas into her head, Fiona. The video camera about broke me.”

  “You’re exaggerating,” Mama said to him.

  “He is the veritable master of hyperbole,” Fiona said.

  Mama and Daddy both stared at her.

  “She has an excellent vocabulary,” Sophie said.

  “No kidding,” Daddy said.

  Even though the next morning was gray and misting, Sophie got up feeling lighter than she had since they had moved to Virginia. Fiona was waiting for her on the stage with two breakfast burritos, homemade by Marissa. Sophie smiled all through the morning. She even smiled at Anne-Stuart when she saw her in the hall outside Ms. Quelling’s room.

  Anne-Stuart sniffed at her. “Did you read my note from yesterday?”

  “No,” Sophie said.

  Anne-Stuart whispered directly into her ear, “You should read it.” She smiled in a wispy way and disappeared into the classroom.

  “What did she say?” Fiona said. “Was it evil?”

  “No,” Sophie said. “She was being kind of nice.”

  Fiona narrowed her eyes. “Sophie, you trust people too much.”

  “I’ve just been thinking about it,” Sophie said. “Julia said they weren’t trying to get us in trouble. Maybe they thought they were doing the right thing.”

  “And maybe I’m Marie Antoinette and nobody knows it.” Fiona leaned into Sophie. “Don’t let them fool you. They’re just manipulators. They turn things around any way they can to get what they want.”

  Sophie was quiet as she followed Fiona into the classroom. Why would the Corn Pops just decide they hated her and Fiona and want to get them into trouble? It didn’t make any sense.

  She reached inside her pack to get her textbook and remembered the note. She smoothed it out and she read Anne-Stuart’s round, perfect handwriting, done in purple gel ink that smelled like grape bubble gum.

  Dear Sophie,

  I just want you and Fiona to know since your both new that me and Julia and B.J. have always been the top in our class. Just so you know what you
r deeling with.

  Your friend,

  Anne-Stuart

  Sophie blinked when she got to the end of the note. How did she get to the top of the class? she thought. She can’t even spell, for one thing. Still, Sophie felt stung. The Corn Pops had definitely not been trying to do the right thing.

  She crumpled the note and stuffed it back into her pack, and she could almost feel the eyes boring into her from every direction. Sophie closed her eyes and imagined a quick glimpse of Jesus. He was smiling, kind as ever.

  Okay, Sophie told herself. As long as we’re more good than evil, we’ll always be all right.

  “Ms. Quelling—please!”

  Sophie looked at B.J., who was leaning over Ms. Quelling’s desk, raking her hand through her butter-blonde hair.

  “If I do switch you with Maggie,” Ms. Quelling said, “will you and Julia and Anne-Stuart yak your heads off?”

  “No, ma’am,” B.J. said. Sophie didn’t see how B.J. could even talk with her lower lip hanging out that way.

  “Why are you so hot on this, B.J.?” Ms. Quelling said.

  B.J. squatted down and spoke so low, Sophie could barely hear her.

  “I want to be moved away from Kitty,” B.J. whispered.

  Ms. Quelling nodded and gave Kitty a pointed look. “Fine,” she said. “I’ll switch you with Fiona.”

  “But I want—”

  “How does it feel to want, B.J.? Work with me here.”

  Julia tossed her mane of auburn hair toward Anne-Stuart.

  “It’s okay,” Anne-Stuart muttered to her. “At least she got away from Kitty.”

  Julia nodded. “We’ll get us together again.” She dug her eyes into Sophie.

  Don’t look at me, Sophie thought. I didn’t ask to sit here.

  As soon as they could get out of the cafeteria at lunchtime, Fiona and Sophie bolted for the playground. Fiona had her Idea Book so they could plan how to redo their video. But no sooner had they settled themselves on the top bars than someone else climbed heavily up to join them.

  “So what are we doing?” Maggie said.

  Fiona pulled the Idea Book to her chest. “We?” she said.

  “I get to play with you now, remember?”

  “Oh, yeah,” Fiona said.

  Sophie’s stomach churned. This was one kind of scene she didn’t like —

  Antoinette sighed and took Magdalena by the hands. “If you are to be one with us, ” she said kindly, “there are certain rules you must learn and follow. Can you do that?” Magdalena bent her head. “I would do anything to be a part of what you have with Henriette.”

  Sophie looked up sharply. Maggie was staring down at the hands that held hers. Sophie pulled her palms away. “You did practically save our lives. So—” She looked at Fiona. “Let’s tell her our rules.”

  “You can’t have rules,” Maggie said. “There aren’t any adults to enforce them. Can’t we just get on with the movie? What about costumes?”

  “We’ll put them together,” Fiona said. She was barely opening her mouth because her teeth were clenched together so tightly.

  “You don’t have to,” Maggie said. “I have tons, and what I don’t have my mom can make us. She’s a professional tailor.”

  “Great,” said Fiona. Her voice was as dull as Maggie’s.

  “You need me for something else too,” Maggie said.

  “What?” Fiona said between her teeth.

  “Who’s going to run the camera when you two are in a scene together?”

  Fiona scratched at her nose. “You?”

  “And who’s going to play Lafayette?”

  “You?” Sophie said.

  Maggie shrugged. “So what are we waiting for? Let’s get to work.”

  Ten

  At free time on the playground and after school at Sophie’s, the girls, including Maggie, practiced the rest of the week for Saturday filming. But there were problems.

  In the hall after language arts class one day, B.J. “accidentally” ran into Sophie as she passed, shoving her into Fiona and landing both of them against the wall.

  “Are you all right?” Anne-Stuart said. Fiona told Sophie later that Anne-Stuart’s voice was laced with concern, but her eyes spelled pure contempt.

  “What’s contempt?” Sophie said.

  “It’s when somebody thinks they’re better than you are,” Fiona said. Fiona and Sophie weren’t the only ones being tormented by the Corn Pops. Kitty Munford was now excluded from the Pops’ lunch table.

  But Kitty still trailed after them down the hall in spite of their curled-lip glares over their shoulders. She handed Julia and B.J. and Anne-Stuart notes, which they smelled and wrinkled their noses at and threw away. One day Sophie and Fiona even saw Kitty running after them on the playground wailing, “Why are you mad at me? Why don’t you like me anymore?”

  Julia finally stopped the whole group and turned around slowly to face Kitty.

  “We’re not mad,” she said with a plastic smile. “We’ve just moved on.”

  Kitty covered her face with her hands and stood there sobbing as Julia led the Corn Pops away.

  “That was just heinous,” Sophie said to Fiona.

  “But you know what’s even worse?”

  Sophie shook her head.

  “Kitty still wants to be friends with them after the way they treat her. It’s absolutely pathetic.” Fiona pulled Sophie toward the monkey bars. “Come on. We have work to do.”

  And then, of course, there was Maggie. She was always armed with ideas she said were the right way to do things. It made Fiona talk with her teeth gritted.

  But Maggie was teaching Sophie something new about the camera every day. Now when Sophie held it, her eye UNsquinted at the little window, she could turn it on with ease and zoom in or out on Lafayette or Henriette. She could imagine herself as a Hollywood director, hollering, “Cut!” and waving her arms to express how she wanted things done.

  “Lafayette shouldn’t just stand there,” Fiona told Maggie one day when the three girls were practicing. “He was the commander of an immense army. He stood tall—”

  “I thought you said he was short,” Maggie said.

  “But he could look tall,” Fiona said through her teeth. “He was—commanding.”

  You should know how to do that, Maggie, Sophie thought. You command us all the time.

  The train of Corn Pops passed by just then.

  “Flakes,” Julia said to her followers.

  Fiona watched them go by with contempt in her eyes.

  “Flakes?” she said. “From a bunch of Corn Pops?”

  Sophie felt a smile whispering across her face.

  “What’s so funny?” Maggie said.

  “Well,” Sophie said, “if they’re the Corn Pops, then I guess we must be the Corn Flakes !”

  “No way!” Maggie said. “I don’t want to be a Corn Flake!”

  But Fiona looked at Sophie and gave her husky laugh. “I love that!” she said. She reached out her hands to give Sophie the secret handshake.

  “What are you doing?” Maggie said.

  Fiona and Sophie looked at each other.

  “It’s just a thing we do,” Fiona said.

  “So—I’m a Corn Flake. I need to learn it.”

  “I thought you said you didn’t want to be one.”

  Maggie looked at them soberly. “Maybe I do,” she said.

  With everything going on, Sophie now had to take more and more Jesus-breaks just to sit and feel his kind warmth. If you love me, she would think to him, how come you don’t make people understand me and my fellow Flakes? There was still no answer, not one she could hear anyway.

  But by Friday after school, Sophie could think only about their movie. She had scored B’s on all her tests except math, which was a C+, and they were completely set for filming. They had chosen a wooded area near Poquoson City Hall as their setting. Mama said they were absolutely not going into some isolated area by themselves and arranged to go wi
th them. Lacie pitched a fit, because that meant Mama wouldn’t be at her soccer game, and Sophie held her breath until Mama said, “Don’t start with me, Lacie.”

  At last, the mistress was scolding the maid Lacette. Antoinette tried to feel smug, but as she looked at Lacette’s crestfallen countenance, she couldn’t help feeling sorry for her, in spite of everything.

  On Saturday morning, Sophie was helping Mama unpack the Suburban at the edge of the woods when Fiona arrived.

  “I have a surprise,” Fiona said. She held up a metal contraption with three legs.

  “What is it?” Sophie said.

  “It’s a tripod. Boppa made it for us. There’s a place to screw our camera to it so it won’t wobble around so much. You can still pan from side to side and up and down if you want to, but it won’t be all shaking from you or Maggie holding it.” Just then a horn blew, and a faded blue car the size of a small boat pulled up. Maggie emerged from the passenger seat and motioned Sophie and Fiona to help retrieve three bulging garbage bags from the backseat.

  Mama went around to the driver’s side and stuck her hand in the window.

  “I’m Lynda LaCroix,” she said. “You must be Maggie’s mom.”

  “I’m Rosa,” said the older version of Maggie. For Sophie, there was just enough of a trill to her R to make her voice romantic.

  “Sophie!” Fiona said. “Look at all this cool stuff!”

  Sophie turned to where Maggie was pulling clothing out of a bag. She held up a pale pink satin dress with flounces on the sleeves and a lace-up front.

  “This is yours,” Maggie said to her. “There’s a cloak in here for you too. Mom made it your size.”

  Sophie took the dress and held it against her as Maggie pulled out a long, forest-green dress with matching cape for Fiona and a dashing white uniform with red trim, for her to wear as Lafayette.

  “That’s exactly how I imagined him!” Sophie said.

  “We looked it up in a book,” Maggie said. “If we’re gonna do this, we want it to be real, right?”

  “Now all we need is a musket for him,” Fiona said. She was breathless.

  “I brought one,” Maggie said. “It’s fake, of course.”

  It wouldn’t have surprised Sophie if it had been the real thing. Everything else was so exactly the way the guides in Williamsburg dressed that Sophie had to keep blinking to make sure she wasn’t still dreaming.