Criss Cross, Double Cross: A Sophie Alias Star Girl adventure

By Norma Charles

Star Girl flies again in this sequel to the bestselling, award-winning Sophie Sea to Sea. Starting her new classes at the new French school in British Columbia, Sophie is happy to escape the old Alderson Avenue School where stuck-up Elizabeth Proctor and her friends rule. But trouble develops when the teachers go on strike and Sophie is forced back into Alderson. Will she have to endure as an outcast? Or will she, like Star Girl, save the day with a daring rescue?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Dundurn
• Release date: May 1, 2002
• ISBN: 9781554885138

Norma Charles

Norma Charles is the author of the bestselling picture book, See You Later, Alligator, and 11 previous children's novels, including the Sophie Alias Star Girl adventures with Dundurn, The Accomplish (nominated for a Sheila A. Egoff Award), and All the Way to Mexico (winner of the Chocolate Lily Award). She lives in Vancouver.

Book preview

Benjamin

1

One August morning in 1949 in Maillardville, British Columbia, the heat was already rising in shimmering currents from the dusty road. The whole summer day stretched out as long and hot and empty as a straight prairie highway in the middle of a heat wave.

Sophie LaGrange was sitting in the shade on the top step of her front porch reading a comic book about her favourite superhero, Star Girl. From just outside her gate, she heard loud barking and frantic squeals.

Trouble! Someone was in trouble! Star Girl to the rescue!

Sophie leaped from the steps and dashed across the lawn. She flung open the gate and a flurry of white fur exploded past her legs. A cat! Right behind it, with long ears and tongue flapping, loped a brown dog.

Running after them, Sophie yelled, Get away, dog! Leave that cat alone! Get away!

But the dog dashed past her, yapping at the cat’s tail. The cat jumped onto the trunk of an apple tree and scrambled into its branches, leaving the dog barking frantically at the bottom. Sophie recognized the cat. It was Gigi from next door. Her friend Jake’s cat.

There you are, Bunny! Come on, boy. A girl rushed into the yard. It was Elizabeth Proctor, who had been in Sophie’s grade-four class.

Is that your dog? Sophie cried over the barking.

Yes! Elizabeth Proctor yelled back. She was wearing a red ribbon tied in a big bow around her long blond hair to match her red shorts and red blouse.

Sophie smoothed the skirt of her wrinkled sundress.

We got him just a few weeks ago, Elizabeth said. I was taking him for a walk. He has to have a walk every day, you know. But he got away and ran on ahead. I don’t know why. My Bunny is usually such a good dog.

The dog pawed at the tree trunk and barked some more at the cat on the branch above his head. Gigi hissed back at him, her tail fluffed angrily.

Call your dog off, Sophie said. Can’t you see that cat is scared?

Elizabeth shrugged and pulled on the dog’s collar. Come on, Bunny. That’s right. Come on, Bunny-boy. The dog reluctantly left the tree but continued to bark. That cat must have been teasing my Bunny. That’s probably why he started chasing it. Maybe if he had a drink of water he’d stop barking.

Okay. I’ll get him one.

Sophie went up the steps and into the house. She thought Elizabeth would wait in the front yard, but the girl followed her right inside and down the hall, and so did her dog, his claws clicking on the polished hardwood floor.

The kitchen was hot and steamy. Grand’maman was at the wood stove, wearing a big flowery apron, frying a pan of chopped onions and garlic to put into the boulettes she was making. When she saw the girls, she smiled at them over her steamed-up glasses. Bonjour, mes filles. Qa va?

Sophie wished her grandmother wouldn’t speak French in front of her friends. They’d all think she didn’t know how to speak English. This is Elizabeth Proctor, Gran, she said loudly. She was in my class at school. I’m going to give her dog a drink of water.

Elizabeth’s dog tangled around their legs and barked at Grand’maman, who arched her eyebrows but nodded and continued to stir the sizzling pan on the stove. She wiped her sweaty brow with the hem of her apron.

Elizabeth wrinkled her nose. What’s that...um...smell?

It’s onions my grandmother’s frying for a special dish for supper. Sort of spicy meatballs. She puts in plenty of onions and garlic, then lets them simmer all afternoon. They’re so good.

Elizabeth sniffed. Onions give my father indigestion. We never have them at my house.

Sophie shrugged and put a bowl of water on the floor for the dog. He stopped barking long enough to slurp up the water with his long pink tongue.

How come your bread’s all lumpy? Elizabeth asked. On the table were four fresh plump loaves of bread with bumpy golden brown crusts.

Sophie shrugged again. That’s just how it turned out, I guess. My gran always bakes bread for us on Thursdays. With all my brothers around, it doesn’t last very long.

We buy our bread at the grocery store, Elizabeth said. We get the kind that’s wrapped in a bag to keep it clean and fresh and it’s all specially sliced. I’m sure thirsty, too. She stared down at her dog. Sure would like a cold bottle of pop.

I don’t think we have any pop, but maybe some lemonade. Could we please have some lemonade, Gran?

Mais oui! Grand’maman said, still stirring her onions. In the icebox.

Sophie got the pitcher out of the icebox and poured herself and Elizabeth each a glass.

Could I have some ice cubes in mine, please? Elizabeth asked.

Ice cubes? We haven’t got any. Just the block of ice in the top of the icebox. I could maybe break off a piece for you.

Elizabeth smoothed down her long hair. No, that’s okay. We’ve had a real refrigerator at our house for ever so long, and we can have ice cubes whenever we want.

That’s nice, Sophie said. This girl was starting to get to her.

Elizabeth took a tiny sip of her lemonade and screwed up her face.

Sophie took a big gulp of hers and smacked her lips. The sweet-sour taste was refreshing. She drained her glass and sucked the slice of lemon at the bottom. Then she put the empty glass on the counter.

Elizabeth placed her full glass beside it. Guess I’m not all that thirsty, after all.

Her dog barked again. He was staring up at the bowl of meat for the meatballs, his drooling tongue hanging out as if he wanted to gulp down the whole batch in a single swallow. Grand’maman frowned at him.

Sophie tried to hurry Elizabeth and her dog out of the kitchen before Grand’maman started yelling at them. In French. Do you want to come to my room and see my Star Girl comic collection? she asked. I’ve got the latest issue where she saves a whole bunch of orphans in an earthquake.

My mother says reading comics is very bad for your mind. She never allows me to read them. I only read fine literature.

Oh. Sophie was puzzled. How could anything about Star Girl be bad? Do you want to come and play checkers then?

Okay. Let’s go.

Better bring your dog, Sophie said, leading the way to her bedroom.

Doesn’t your grandmother even know how to speak English? Elizabeth asked, pulling her dog along the hallway.

Sophie’s cheeks burned. Sure. She speaks English all the time. She just likes French better. She’s more used to it.

Well, my mother says everyone who lives in British Columbia should speak English. After all, this is an English country. Did you know she named me after Princess Elizabeth?

Oh. Sophie raised her eyebrows and rolled her eyes.

In the bedroom Sophie shared with her grandmother, there were two bureaus and a big bed. On her grandmother’s bureau was a statue of the Virgin Mary with flowing blue robes. In front of it Grand’maman had put a small vase of flowers from her garden and a candle she lit at night when she said her rosary.

Elizabeth’s mouth dropped open and she stared. Oh, my! What’s that? I’ve never seen such a strange picture.

Alarmed, Sophie followed Elizabeth’s eyes to the wooden frame above the bureau. In it was a picture of Jesus with his shirt open, showing his heart with blood dripping from it. Sacré Coeur was written in old-fashioned letters under it. Oh, that’s Jesus. Sophie shrugged. "We call it Sacré Coeur. That means Sacred Heart. It shows Jesus loves us with all his heart." Actually, Sophie had barely noticed the picture before.

Why do you have to have it in your bedroom? Doesn’t it give you the creeps?

It’s my gran’s.

But I thought this was your room.

It is, but it’s my gran’s, too.

You mean your grandmother sleeps here, too?

Sure. The bed’s plenty big enough for both of us. My three big brothers sleep upstairs and my mom and dad share the front bedroom with my little brother. There aren’t any other bedrooms, so where else would my gran sleep?

Humph, Elizabeth snorted. I’ve never heard of anyone having to sleep with their grandmother before. She picked up a string of sparkling red glass beads and put it around her neck. These beads are pretty. And they match my outfit, don’t you think? Although it would look a lot better if it didn’t have this cross on the end. She patted back her hair and looked at herself in the small mirror on the wall.

That’s my gran’s rosary. Sophie looked at the door nervously. What would Grand’maman say if she came in and saw Elizabeth playing with her rosary so disrespectfully?

Rosary?

Sophie nodded. It’s what my gran uses to count her prayers. See, each one of those beads is for a Hail Mary and—

Prayers? Oh! Elizabeth quickly pulled off the rosary and dropped it onto the bureau.

On Sophie’s bureau was a