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Saturday was a bright sunny day, unusually warm for March. Right after breakfast, Sophie skipped down the street, her allowance jingling in her coat pocket. She loved the sound of two dimes and a nickel clinking together. She was rich. As she passed Josline’s Boulangerie, the delicious smell of fresh cinnamon buns tempted her, but she skipped straight on by.
“Oh, I hope, hope, hope it’s still there,” she sang. When she finally got to Tussaud’s Epicerie, she didn’t stop to look in the window. She rushed inside and went right to the comic book section.
Yes! There it was. Under the Little Lulusl Right where she and Marcie had hidden it. The Star Girl Review. It felt satisfyingly thick. She was sure it was filled with all sorts of dazzling adventures, adventures that were as exciting as Superman’s or Batman’s or Johnny Canuck’s. Star Girl was just as strong and powerful as they were.
While Sophie was paying for the comic, a small pang of guilt struck her. She knew Marcie wanted the comic too. First come, first served, she muttered to herself.
As she was leaving the store, she almost bumped into Roberta Smith.
“Hi, Roberta,” she said, holding her new comic up so Roberta could see it.
“Oh! Is that the new Star Girl?” Roberta asked, her eyes huge with envy.
Sophie nodded and smirked just a little. “A special Star Girl Review.“
When Sophie rounded the corner to their apartment, the pang of guilt had become so strong, she didn’t even feel like reading her new comic. She kept thinking about Marcie going to Tussaud’s with her allowance to buy it. She’d search under the pile of Little Lulus and it wouldn’t be there. She’d be so disappointed she might even cry like she had that time she’d lost her allowance and couldn’t buy a single thing for a whole week.
A crowd was milling about outside Plouff’s Shoe Store. Papa’s new car had arrived! It was a beautiful, shiny blue sedan with four doors and a big slanted trunk.
“It’s just a year old,” Arthur told Sophie. “A 1948 Mercury Montego. It’s got a special ’comfort zone’. And look at that bumper.” The chrome bumper in front was curved into a big shiny smile.
Everyone was rushing around exclaiming, as if the car was the most wonderful thing ever invented. Attached to the rear was a small trailer, about half the length of the car. The trailer’s door was wide open and Sophie could see it was almost full already, mainly with Maman’s black piano and her boxes of dishes and pots. 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
