by Nancy N. Rue
Sophie tightened back into her Pharisee self.
“This is Jesus talking now. ‘Suppose one of you has a hundred sheep and loses one of them. Does he not leave the ninety-nine in the open country and go after the lost sheep until he finds it?’ ”
Of course, Sophie/the Pharisee thought. It doesn’t take a brain surgeon to figure that out. She knew they didn’t have brain surgeons in Bible times, but it was the best sarcastic thing she could think of on short notice.
“ ‘And when he finds it, ’ ” Dr. Peter read on in his Jesus-voice, “ ‘he joyfully puts it on his shoulders and goes home. Then he calls his friends and neighbors together and says, “Rejoice with me; I have found my lost sheep. ” Get to the point, man, Sophie/the Pharisee thought. I’m an important person. I can’t stand around here all day listening to stories. She/he tugged impatiently at his long beard.
“ ‘I tell you that in the same way there will be more rejoicing in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous persons who do not need to repent.’ ”
Maggie said, “What does ‘repent’ mean exactly?”
So much for imagining. Sophie wasn’t enjoying being a bad guy to Jesus anyway.
“ ‘Repent’ means you admit that you’ve messed up,” Dr. Peter said, “and you accept the forgiveness of God that’s always there for you. Then you change your life.”
Fiona leaned back in her purple seat, crackling the beans. “No offense,” she said, “but what’s this got to do with Phoebe? Are we supposed to try to save her, like, get her to be — what was that — ‘righteous,’ instead of a sinner?”
“God is the only one who can save her,” Dr. Peter said. “Matter of fact, he’s the only one who can change her at all.”
“So what do we do?” Maggie held a gel pen, like she was ready to write down his answer.
Dr. Peter pushed his glasses up by wrinkling his nose. “For starters, you can pray for her and appreciate her, the way Jesus does a lost sheep. Do that instead of putting her down. Jesus will go after her. God loves her just as much as he loves you.” He rubbed his hands together. “There’s more to this story, but let’s just concentrate on that for right now.”
“That sounds pretty easy,” Fiona said. “We can do that, right?”
Everybody nodded, although Maggie didn’t look all that enthusiastic to Sophie. “I’m staying away from her,” Maggie said.
“Don’t quit the Film Club, Mags!” Darbie said.
“I won’t,” Maggie said. “I’ll just stay away from her.”
“As long as you’re praying, Maggie,” Dr. Peter said. “Just remember that we all get lost now and then.”
Sophie rested her chin on the edge of the Bible. Phoebe was lost? She didn’t act that lost. She acted like she knew everything.
But if the great civil rights leader Dr. Barton Gunther Prince Jr. says we must pray for her, then we must, Liberty Lawhead thought.
But as a civil rights leader herself, she must do more than pray for this actress, Diva Dramatica. If only she knew what.
“Sophie-Lophie-Loodle.”
Sophie’s eyes popped open to see Dr. Peter’s eyes twinkling at her.
“Your dad’s here to pick you up,” he said. “Who were you?”
“Liberty Lawhead, civil rights leader,” Sophie said.
“A noble profession.” Dr. Peter’s eyes twinkled some more. “I can’t wait to see this film.”
Daddy was in the truck waiting for her, and Lacie was with him.
“I wanted to talk to both of you without Zeke around,” he said as Sophie climbed into the backseat of the crew cab.
Lacie gave a grunt. “It was either take a ride in the truck or lock the kid in the closet.”
In the rearview mirror, Sophie saw a trace of a smile go through Daddy’s eyes.
But by the time they got home, Sophie wasn’t smiling, and Lacie looked like she wanted to smack somebody.
Because Daddy announced that he’d be out of town the next week, and they needed to help Mama with Zeke after school. Even their protests that they had stuff to do after school didn’t sway him. The “game plan,” as Daddy put it, was that Lacie had Zeke duty Monday and Wednesday, and Sophie had it Tuesday and Thursday.
“With a new baby coming, we’ll all have to take a hit for the team,” Daddy said. “Just keep him out of your mother’s hair for a couple of hours while she fixes dinner and gets some rest. No big deal.”
Uh-huh, Sophie thought as she nodded at him. The former Zeke was no big deal. The little Act-Out King he’d become was the biggest deal in family history. And what about her busy schedule? Especially her making-a-film-about-Liberty-Lawhead time?
That night, Sophie imagined Jesus the minute she crawled under the covers. His kind eyes were there as she asked him first to deliver her from this evil, and then she gave in and asked him to help her want to do this for Mama. As she drifted off to sleep, she half dreamed of Jesus running after Zeke — but it was tough to imagine her screaming little brother as a lost lamb.
Five
When Sophie got to first period the next morning, Ms. Hess was writing on the board: CIVIL RIGHTS GROUP PROJECT.
Everything in Sophie snapped to attention. She was sure even her spiky hair stood up straighter. Project was one of her favorite words. So was group, if that meant the Corn Flakes could work together. And, of course, she was all about civil rights now. Could this get any more perfect?
It could, and it did.
“Divide into groups of your own choosing,” Ms. Hess said when class started. Her lips pronounced each word precisely, which Sophie wished she could do. It would make her sound more like Liberty Lawhead.
“Your groups may include people from the other section,” Ms. Hess went on, “since you will do the work for this project outside of class.”
Sophie covered her mouth so she wouldn’t squeal out loud. From two rows over, Fiona was mouthing all the Corn Flakes’ names to her.
Mrs. Clayton put her palm up to stop the buzz. “We want your group to ponder this question: How did the Civil Rights Movement of the 1960s affect the way people have respected the rights of minorities since then?”
Julia’s hand shot up, and she smiled syrupy-sweetly at Ms. Hess. Sophie knew that was part of the Pops’ plan to get back on Ms. Hess’s good side, since she was the cheerleading adviser who had kicked them off the squad.
“I thought,” Julia said, dripping a smile, “that after the law changed, everybody was equal and civil rights wasn’t a thing anymore.”
“It most certainly is still a ‘thing,’ ” Mrs. Clayton said. “Racial prejudice has always been present in American society, and it continues to be.” She drew two long, wavy lines on the board. “The idea that all people are equal is the main flow that has shaped our country and how we live.” Mrs. Clayton drew some hard, straight lines moving in the opposite direction from the flowing ones. “As long as there are people who think some races are inferior to others, that will run against what this nation stands for, and some people won’t get fair treatment in jobs, things like that.” She tilted her helmet head toward them. “Your task is to take one of the research areas from the list Ms. Hess is handing out and decide whether what the great civil rights leaders of the 1960s did has actually helped in that area to stop this current of prejudice.” She pointed to the hard lines.
“How long does our report have to be?” Anne-Stuart said.
“No written reports,” Mrs. Clayton said. “We want you to make a creative presentation to the combined two classes to show what you find out.”
All through PE Darbie, Sophie, and Fiona told Maggie and Willoughby about the project assignment. They decided that whatever topic they picked, they’d do a film — and maybe it could be their next Film Club movie too. Mr. Stires had such awesome equipment.
“Pinky promise,” Darbie said when they were closing up their gym lockers. “We’re going to make the most class film ever.”
Each gir
l hooked her little fingers and linked them with the Corn Flake’s on each side of her until they were connected in a circle.
“What’s going on?” said someone outside the circle.
Sophie felt Fiona’s pinky tighten on hers. “Hi, Phoebe,” Sophie said. “We’re just — um — doing our friend thing.”
“Cool.” Phoebe shook her bangs out of her eyes. “That would make a good bit in one of our movies. See y’all at lunch.”
“She’s eating with us?” Willoughby said after Phoebe left.
“We have Film Club at lunch,” Maggie said, words thudding.
Sophie felt another uh-oh coming on.
Phoebe wasn’t the only other person who showed up for Film Club after fourth period. Jimmy Wythe and two of his friends, Nathan and Vincent, were there too. At least, Sophie thought, they were all Lucky Charms. If a Fruit Loop or a Corn Pop had shown up, she might have given up film directing forever.
“How’s this gonna work for our project with all these people?” Fiona whispered to Sophie.
“Fiona,” Miss Imes said, pointing her eyebrows, “do you want to share with the whole group?”
Fiona stuck out her bag of sour cream and onion chips. “Anybody want some?”
“Me,” Phoebe said, and took the whole bag.
“That isn’t what I was referring to,” Miss Imes said.
All the Corn Flakes looked at Sophie, and Miss Imes tucked in her chin. “Is there a problem?”
The Corn Flakes looked at Sophie again.
“What?” Phoebe said.
“I think they want you to speak for them, Sophie,” Mr. Stires said with a chuckle.
Trying to pronounce carefully the way Ms. Hess did, Sophie explained about the project. “The problem is,” she said, even more carefully, “not everybody in the club is in our project group.”
“We could be, since we’re in the block too.” Jimmy’s bright blue eyes seemed shy as he glanced at Sophie. “I figure since you helped me prove I didn’t start that fight, we could — y’know — sorta help you.”
Nathan nodded his curly head. Vincent just watched everybody out of his very thin face. He always looked very scientific to Sophie, like somebody on a Star Trek rerun.
“We’re gonna need guys,” Phoebe said. “I can play a boy — I can play anything — but why waste me on that when we can get actual males?” She poked her finger toward Vincent. “Can you act?”
“Yeah.” Vincent looked at her poking finger like it was a fascinating insect. “We all can.”
Nathan turned scarlet all the way up to the tips of his ears. He didn’t usually say much, Sophie remembered. He just communicated by the shade of red on his face.
By now, Fiona was clearing her throat so hard Sophie thought she was going to cough up a hair ball.
“Do you have a problem with that, Fiona?” Miss Imes said.
“Phoebe’s not in either one of the English/History blocks,” Fiona said.
Miss Imes’ eyebrows almost disappeared into her hair. “And your point is?”
“I get it,” Phoebe said.
Sophie squirmed and held her breath.
“You guys think if I don’t have to do the movie for a class I might, like, drop out or something and you’d end up getting a bad grade. I’d think that too if I was you — but y’all don’t know me.” Phoebe gave her bangs a dramatic toss. “When it comes to acting, I am, like, obsessed. I wouldn’t walk out on a play or something if I was dying. You’ll get an even better grade on this project because I’m in it — trust me.”
“You certainly don’t have any confidence issues,” Miss Imes said.
Mr. Stires chuckled, but Sophie didn’t see anything funny. Phoebe had just pushed herself into the Corn Flakes’ special project, and the teachers had let her.
Nathan and Vincent looked at Jimmy, who scratched his blond head and shrugged his big-for-a-seventh-grader’s shoulders.
“Works for me,” he said.
Sophie could see It doesn’t work for us! in every one of the Corn Flakes’ eyes, except for Maggie. Her eyes had no more expression than a pair of pebbles.
“What wouldn’t work for us,” Miss Imes said, “is your using Film Club time and equipment to work on a class project that can’t include everyone in the club. I’ll go talk to Ms. Hess and Mrs. Clayton right now to make sure Phoebe can be involved. Otherwise, no deal.”
After she left the room, Mr. Stires said, “I think it will work out. Go ahead and pick your topic, and I’ll be right over here.” Then he escaped into the lab.
“Sweet!” Phoebe said. “This is going to be cool. What are our choices? Let’s see that sheet.”
She snatched Darbie’s list out of her hand.
Darbie snatched it back. “I’ll read it out loud,” she said.
Sophie groaned inside. How were they supposed to pray for this bossy girl, much less “appreciate” her? “God loves her just as much as he loves you,” Dr. Peter had said. Sophie was glad God did—
Darbie read the list, but nothing on it seemed to shout, “Take me! Take me!” Sophie tried to think what Liberty Lawhead would want to get into.
“ ‘Discrimination against Latinos,’ ” Darbie read. She looked up. “What’s a Latino?”
Phoebe poked the usual finger toward Maggie. “Like her. Mexican.”
“I’m Cuban,” Maggie said.
“Same thing. You all speak Spanish.” Phoebe tapped Darbie’s sheet. “Go on.”
“Wait a minute,” Vincent said. A big, loose grin filled up most of his face. “We could do that one — y’know, since Maggie’s a Latino person.”
Sophie looked nervously at Maggie. She was sitting very still.
“Do you care if we do that, Mags?” Fiona said.
Maggie shrugged.
“We did a film about me being Irish,” Darbie said. “The Corn — well, people stopped teasing me after that.”
“Nobody teases Maggie about being Cuban, though,” Sophie said.
Willoughby gave a half-shriek. “I never even knew she was Cuban until I met her mom.”
“Her mom’s cool,” Jimmy said.
“She made that phlegm stuff,” Vincent said.
“Flan!” the Corn Flakes said in unison.
Vincent blinked. “It was good. Anyway, if Maggie’s okay with it — ”
“Would everybody stop talking about me like I’m not here?”
Sophie glanced at Maggie. Her dark eyes finally had expression. They were flashing.
“Sorry, Mags,” Fiona said. “Just tell us if you want to do it, yes or no.”
“I vote no,” Phoebe said.
“Is your name ‘Mags’?” Fiona said. Sophie could tell Fiona was gritting her molars.
“Just listen,” Phoebe said.
Do we have a choice? Sophie thought.
“I don’t see how we’re going to do a movie about Cubans getting their civil rights violated if we only have one Cuban in the group.” She panned the circle with her eyes. “I’m sure not gonna play a Cuban.”
“You have the wrong color hair anyway,” Willoughby said. She gave a random shriek.
“Some Cubans have light hair,” Maggie said.
“I never saw one.” Phoebe pushed her finger into the gap between her teeth.
“How would you know?” Vincent said in his scientific voice. “You thought she was a Mexican.”
“I want to do it.”
Sophie stared at Maggie.
“You sure, Mags?” Darbie said.
“We don’t have to,” Fiona said. “There’s other stuff on the list.”
Willoughby flung an arm around Maggie’s neck. “We know you don’t like to be the main character — ”
“What, are all of you her mother or something?” Phoebe pointed her finger yet again at Maggie. “Do you want to do it or not?”
“I said I do,” Maggie said. “And they aren’t my mother. They’re my friends.”
Phoebe shrugged. “That’s cool. Okay — I�
��ll play somebody who stages a protest march or something. I’m good in parts where I get in people’s faces and yell.”
“We don’t even know if there’s going to be a part like that,” Fiona said. Sophie could tell her teeth were practically cemented together by now. “We do the research first. That’s usually my job.”
“I’ll help you,” Vincent said.
“Then we work out the script by playing with scenes. Maggie writes it down — ”
“I can put it on my computer,” Nathan said. They were the first words he’d uttered the whole time. His face was the shade of a tomato.
“Then we cast the roles,” Fiona went on. “And the only one we know right now is Sophie’s.”
“Liberty Lawhead,” Sophie said. “Civil rights leader.”
“Don’t we get to audition for that?” Phoebe said.
“No!” everybody said. Including Jimmy and Vincent.
Phoebe’s eyes went round. “Okay,” she said. “Don’t have a heart attack. But just so you know: that’s not the way it’s done professionally.”
“That’s the way it’s done here,” Fiona said.
There was a stiff silence. Sophie tried not to take big mad-breaths that everybody would hear.
“Works for me,” Jimmy said finally.
If he hadn’t been a boy, Sophie would have hugged him.
Six
Miss Imes came back to tell them that Ms. Hess and Mrs. Clayton said Phoebe could be involved in the project.
“As long as the rest of you do all the research,” she said. “I personally think Phoebe will add a great deal to the film.”
Sophie felt prickles on the back of her neck.
Phoebe threw out both skinny arms. “Fabulous! I’m gonna make you look so good. Are we meeting after school?”
“We’ll meet to do research.” Fiona was barely opening her mouth. “You don’t have to be there.”
“You know she’ll come,” Darbie whispered to Sophie when the bell rang. “The whole bloomin’ football team couldn’t keep her away.”
Darbie was right. After school that day, when the Flakes and Charms were all in the library finding books and websites for Fiona, Phoebe flitted from one to the other, reading over their shoulders and talking nonstop.