“Now, Sophie,” the teacher said from her desk when the other children were gone, “for your detention today, please clean the blackboards and straighten all the desks. I like our desks in nice, straight, tidy rows.”
“Yes, Mrs. Lynnwood.” There wasn’t much writing on the boards, so it didn’t take long to clean them, first with the blackboard brush, then with a cloth. She finished straightening the desks quickly, as well.
“May I go now?” Sophie asked, standing in front of the teacher’s desk with her hands behind her back.
Mrs. Lynnwood looked up from her marking. “Now what must we always remember?”
“To always return to the classroom as soon as the bell rings after recess,” Sophie recited.
“That’s right. That’s a very important rule at our school. I hope you won’t ever forget it. You may go now.”
Sophie pulled her jacket on and trudged out of the classroom.
The stairway sounded hollow as she went down to the entrance. The school grounds were empty. No one had stayed behind today to play baseball or hopscotch. All the bikes were gone, as well, including Elizabeth’s shiny red one with the balloon tires.
Sophie went down the road and crossed over to the playgground of her old school. The swings were hanging in a lonely row. She wondered again where Ronnie was. Austin Heights was probably the closest school to where he lived up the hill.
Out of habit, more than anything, she headed for her usual shortcut behind the school, jogging along the trail that would take her to the ravine. Maybe if she kept her eyes wide open, she’d spot her frogs, Hoppy or one of the Monsieur Croaks. She sure needed a good friend.
The green canopy of cedar trees closed over her head as she descended the steep dirt path. The path grew dim in the long shadows of the afternoon. She knew every hill and turn of this path now. The sounds were hushed. She became aware of chickadees and robins chirping in the bushes. Far below the trail the creek splashed and gurgled between the rocks.
Suddenly a muffled scream and a loud splash broke the silence! Sophie jumped off the path and lunged through the bushes toward the creek. Thorny vines clawed at her arms and legs, but she yanked them aside and hurried down.
The first thing she noticed was the rope swing. It was dangling over the creek, still swaying slightly.
She stared down at the creek. Winter rains had swollen it so that now it was fast and frothy and deep. Someone had fallen in, all right. Sophie grabbed a long stick and rushed to the slippery edge.
Someone was thrashing in the foaming water. A girl with red ribbons in her hair was struggling on her knees against a big rock. Sophie gasped. Elizabeth! She was trying to grasp the rock and raise herself out of the water, but the creek was too deep and the current was too strong.
Without stopping to think, Sophie plunged into the creek. “Hold on, Elizabeth!” she cried. “I’ll get you! I’m coming! I’ll get you out!”
The water was ice-cold. It swirled and splashed and bubbled around Sophie’s legs, pulling at the hem of her skirt, tugging at her, throwing her off balance until she was nearly swept downstream. But with the help of her stick she managed to stay upright and push across the swift current.
“I’ll get you out!” Sophie yelled again above the torrent. When she reached Elizabeth, she tried to snatch her coat. But Elizabeth was flailing in such a panic that Sophie couldn’t get a good grip. “Here. Put your arm around my shoulders,” Sophie said, trying to grab her sleeve. But Elizabeth kept thrashing.
Finally Sophie grasped her around the waist, but when she tried to heave her up, the girl was as heavy as a sack of potatoes. “You’ve got to help!” Sophie panted. “You’ve got to try!”
Sophie fought the current and, with all her strength, tried to lift Elizabeth again by bracing against the rock. At last she managed to stumble and splash through the foaming water and push Elizabeth to the edge of the creek. She grabbed her arm and dragged her out of the water and up onto the bank.
Elizabeth sprawled in the mud, wheezing and coughing, trying to catch her breath. Her eyes were shut and water streamed down her face from her hair and her sodden ribbons.
Sophie sat beside her and patted her back. “Are you okay, Liz? Are you? You’re safe now. You’re out of the water. It’s safe here. Are you okay?”
Elizabeth coughed and wheezed some more and spit up water. She swallowed hard and panted, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. “Thanks, Sophie,” she croaked, rubbing the water out of her eyes. “Thanks a lot for saving me.” She managed a small smile and squeezed Sophie’s hand. Her fingers were icy and she started shivering so hard that Sophie got scared. Elizabeth’s lips were blue and the veins in her forehead stood out like pale blue worms.
“Look, here’s my jacket.” Sophie tucked it around Elizabeth’s back, but that didn’t stop her trembling at all. “We’d better get out of here. I’ll take you to my house. It’s not far, just up the hill and along the trail and down the road a bit. Think you can walk that far?”
She thought Elizabeth nodded, so she helped her to her feet. Elizabeth’s legs were so wobbly that Sophie had to hold her up. She guided her through the thick brush to the steep trail and up to the road. It was slow going, but they finally made it. Elizabeth’s bike was leaning against a tree at the top of the ravine.
“I’ll come right back for your bike, Liz. First, though, you’d better get some warm clothes on and call your mother.”
Somehow Sophie got Elizabeth to her house. As she was helping her up the steps, Arthur came out the front door. “What happened to you guys?” His eyes bulged behind his glasses.
“Can’t explain now. But could you get Elizabeth’s bike? It’s at the end of the road, down by the ravine.”
“Sure thing!” he said, taking off down the steps.
“Where’s Mom?” she yelled at his back.
“In the kitchen.”
When Maman saw the girls, she dropped her mixing spoon and rushed to them. “Mon Dieu! What happened?”
“Elizabeth fell into the creek in the ravine—” Sophie started to explain, but Maman rushed them to her room where she grabbed some towels and pulled a warm wool blanket off the bed.
“Let’s take off your wet coat and your sweater,” Maman murmured as she bundled Elizabeth into the blanket and started drying her hair. “Come now and sit by the stove to warm up. I’ll make you both a cup of warm tea and we’ll send Henri for your mother, Elizabeth. You get changed out of those wet clothes, too, Sophie.”
Elizabeth’s mother was soon racing up the front steps, huffing and puffing and looking frantic. She hurried down the hall to the kitchen where Elizabeth was huddled by the stove. “Oh, my little Elizabeth!” she cried. “What happened?” She threw her arms around her daughter and held her close.
Elizabeth and her mother sat hugging near the stove, drinking warm, sweet tea, and Elizabeth eventually stopped shivering. She borrowed some dry clothes from Sophie and her mother took her home, arms wrapped protectively around her shoulders.
“How can we ever thank you?” Mrs. Proctor said on the way out the door. She patted Sophie’s cheek. “If you hadn’t come along when you did, I don’t even want to think what could have happened.”
Sophie was embarrassed by so much attention. She wished she could just shrug, fling out her star-studded cape, and fly away into the sunset the way Star Girl did after she had saved the world.
The next day was Saturday, a beautiful sunny spring afternoon. Sophie had been helping Maman and Grand’maman all morning. She had folded the laundry, carried in wood for the stove, and looked after her little brother, Zephram. They had spent most of the morning in the backyard and hadn’t gotten into one speck of trouble. She had discovered something that he loved: digging in the garden with a big spoon and playing with his trucks and cars in the dirt. They built a big city with lots of roads and bridges.
“This is what Papa does,” Sophie told him. “When you grow up, you can be an engineer like him. That�
�s what I’m going to be.”
Zephram nodded solemnly. “Engineer,” he said.
After lunch Sophie was sitting on the steps flipping through her comics when a shiny new car stopped in front of their house. The gate swung open and Elizabeth walked in. She looked a bit shy, not her usual stuck-up self at all.
“Hi, Sophie,” she said, smiling as if she had an important secret.
Sophie went down the steps. There was a man behind Elizabeth. He was tall with a blond moustache and round cheeks.
“So you’re the famous Sophie, are you?” he said.
“This is my dad,” Elizabeth said.
“Hello, Mr. Proctor,” Sophie said.
“Well, young lady, I’m really pleased to meet you. And I want to thank you for rescuing my daughter from that creek,” he said, shaking her hand. His hand was big and it held Sophie’s firmly. “And as a small token of our appreciation, we’ve brought you something.”
Maman came out onto the porch.
“Oh, you must be Mrs. LaGrange,” Elizabeth’s father said, shaking her hand, as well.
“How do you do?”
“My wife and I are very grateful to your daughter for saving our Elizabeth from that creek in the ravine. And we’d like to thank you for looking after her, too.”
Maman shook her head. “Anyone would have done the same thing.”
But Elizabeth’s father wasn’t listening. “I asked my Elizabeth if there was something your little girl would like, and she suggested this. I hope it’ll be okay with you.” He went to his car. The shimmering black sides and chrome gleamed in the sunshine. He opened the trunk and grunted as he pulled something out.
Sophie gasped. It was the bike of her dreams! The shiny blue one with balloon tires she’d seen months ago at Cap’s Bicycles!
Maman gasped, too. “Oh, monsieur! You’re much too generous! We couldn’t possibly—”
“But we insist. My wife and I would be very happy if you’d accept this small token of our appreciation.”
Sophie held her breath. Please, please, please! she silently begged Maman.
Maman looked down at her, smiled, and nodded.
“Yippee!” exploded out of Sophie’s mouth. She rushed to the bicycle and held on to the handlebars. Her heart was pounding. Her very own bike! “Thanks, Mr. Proctor. Thanks a lot. And thanks, Liz.”
Now all she had to do was learn to ride it. And that she was sure she could do in no time flat.
“We could ride to school together on Monday,” Elizabeth offered.
“Sure thing!” Sophie said, mounting the bicycle and pushing on the pedals. She wobbled down the path, hanging on to the handlebars for all she was worth.
Author’s Note
The two Roman Catholic schools in the French-Canadian community of Maillardville, British Columbia, Notre Dame de Fatima and Notre Dame de Lourdes, did go on strike in the spring of 1951 to protest having to pay taxes. After parading through the streets to the town hall, led by their teachers and pastor, Father Ovila Menier, all the students had to attend nearby public schools. Although it was hoped the strike would last for only a few days, it was actually more than a year before a settlement was finally reached and the two parochial schools reopened, allowing the students to return to classes.
Although this novel is based on events that occurred in Maillardville, it is a work of fiction. The characters in the story are imaginary and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
The author wishes to thank, in particular, editor Suzanne Norman for her enthusiastic reading of this book in manuscript and for making helpful suggestions.
Glossary
À la mode: Fashionable, with ice cream.
“Au claire de la lune”: “By the Light of the Moon” (French folksong).
Bailey bridge: A World War II surplus bridge, easy to install, usually as a temporary crossing of rivers or ravines for rough roads.
Bonjour: Hello, good day.
Boulettes: Spicy meatballs.
Le curé: Priest, vicar, pastor.
Ça va?: How’s it going? How are you?
Chérie: Dear.
Comme c’est magnifique!: How splendid!
Eh, mon dieu!: Dear me! Goodness gracious! My God!
“En roulant ma boule roulante”: “While Rolling My Ball” (old French folksong).
Entrez: Come in.
L’école Notre Dame de Fatima: Our Lady of Fatima School.
Madame: Mrs., Madame.
Magnifique!: Splendid! Magnificent!
Mais oui!: But, yes, of course!
Merci: Thank you.
Mes enfants: My children.
Mes filles: My girls.
Monsieur: Mr.
Restes tranquille: Be still, calm down.
Sacré Coeur: Sacred Heart.
Tarte au sucre: Sugar pie.
Tourtières: Meat pies.
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