Sophie the Hero (3 page)

S
ophie wasn’t feeling much like a hero after gym.

Art class came next. She wasn’t sure how to be a hero there, exactly. But a true hero could be a hero anywhere, she guessed.

She also had a papier-mâché animal to finish. The class had molded them the week before. Now it was time to paint them.

“What color would you like, Sophie?” Ms. Bart, the art teacher, asked her.

Sophie really liked Ms. Bart. She probably liked her best of all her teachers. (And not just
because Ms. Bart still had Sophie’s picture of a snow princess from the year before hanging in her classroom.)

Sophie also liked Ms. Bart because she was fun to look at. She was short and had long, long hair. She always wore it in a braid that went way past her bottom. And it was splattered with paint. Just like her clothes. And shoes. And skin.

The year before, Sophie had learned about camouflage. That was what Ms. Bart always made her think of. Sophie wondered: If Ms. Bart stood very still in her art room, would she blend in?

Sophie smiled at Ms. Bart. “I’ll take red, please,” Sophie told her.

“Red, huh? Okay!” Ms. Bart smiled at her. “Not the usual color for an alligator. But I like the way you think!”

Sophie looked down at her papier-mâché animal. “It’s a fox,” she said.

Ms. Bart handed her the red paint. “Oh … so it is!” she said.

Next Kate took some gray paint.

“Is that a mouse?” the teacher asked her.

Kate held it up. “It was,” she said. “But I don’t know.” She touched its extra-pointy nose. “I think I’m going to make it the world’s smallest elephant, instead.”

Ms. Bart laughed and moved down the table, giving out more paint. Then she stopped next to Archie and Toby. They were snarling and growling while their papier-mâché creatures battled.

Archie raised his animal and banged it down on Toby’s animal’s head. “T. rex always beats crocodile,” he said.

“T. rex?” Ms. Bart repeated. “Oh, Archie. I can’t believe it! I thought I told you to make something else, just this once. You’ve drawn and painted and sculpted nothing but dinosaurs for three years.”

Archie shrugged. “It could be a dog, I guess,” he said.

“Never mind,” Ms. Bart said. “If dinosaurs inspire you, it’s fine, I suppose. Okay, class. Paint away!” she announced.

Mindy raised her hand.

“Excuse me, Ms. Bart,” she said, “but I’m not happy with this blue you gave me.”

“Oh, no?” said the art teacher.

“No,” Mindy said. She held up the cup of paint and wrinkled her nose as if it smelled bad. “This is much too ordinary. I need something more brilliant for my peacock.”

“Me too!” Lily added.

Ms. Bart looked surprised. So did the rest of the class. They weren’t surprised that Lily copied Mindy. She always did that. But each of them was supposed to make an animal that was different from anyone else’s. Everyone knew that. It was the only rule Ms. Bart had given them … mostly because of Lily.

“Did you make a peacock, too?” Kate asked Lily.

“Uh …” Lily bit her lip. “No … I mean, not really.”

Ms. Bart walked up beside her. “Do you mean you made a pea
hen?
A female? Instead of a male peacock?” she asked.

Lily nodded quickly.

“Wonderful!” said Ms. Bart. “Then let me get you some brown paint. That’s usually the color of a peahen. And they don’t have that same fancy tail, so maybe we should get rid of that?”

Lily slumped in her seat. “Fine,” she said.

Sophie tried not to giggle.

Ms. Bart dragged a stool to a wall of shelves across the art room. Then she began to climb.

“I’m pretty sure I have the perfect blue up here somewhere,” she said.

She reached for the top shelf and picked through some jars and boxes.

“Ooh! Steady!” she suddenly cried.

That was when Sophie looked up and saw the stool wobble. Not a lot. But enough.

Uh-oh!

Ms. Bart could fall … unless Sophie the Hero saved her!

Sophie handed her paintbrush to Kate. “Hold this!” she told her sidekick. “Huh?” said Kate.

Then Sophie jumped up, ran across the room, and grabbed Ms. Bart’s ankles.

“Don’t worry, Ms. Bart, I’ve got you! You’re safe!” she said.

“Oh, Sophie, no!” Ms. Bart cried, grabbing the paint shelf. “Look out!”

T
he good news was: All the paint on the shelf did not fall on the art teacher.

The bad news was: It fell on Sophie. Every drop.

Sophie was covered with paint from head to toe. And she did not feel like a hero. She felt like a papier-mâché blob.

Still, she was not as upset as Mindy.

“That blue paint was perfect!” Mindy wailed. “And now it’s all gone!”

Sophie was very happy that Ms. Bart let her go clean up in the bathroom. And that she let Kate, Sophie’s sidekick, go, too. Mindy’s whining hurt her paint-covered ears a lot.

“Hey, cheer up,” Kate told Sophie in the bathroom. “You might have really saved Ms. Bart. Who knows?”

“Yeah,” Sophie said, sighing. But she was not sure Ms. Bart thought so.

“And on the bright side,” Kate went on, “now you look more like a hero!”

“I do?” Sophie asked.

“Yeah!” Kate nodded. “Totally — Peacock Girl!”

Sophie rolled her eyes. Then she opened the zip-top bag that held her set of Emergency Clothes.

Sophie always thought Emergency Clothes were for kids who couldn’t make it to the bathroom. (Like her. In kindergarten. When she drank three milks at lunch.) And since she had learned her lesson (one milk at the most!), she thought she would never need them.

No such luck.

Sophie guessed that her Emergency Clothes were better than a paint-covered shirt and skirt. But not much. The pants were too short. And the
shirt was the one that Sophie hated most. The pink one that said “Kiss me, I’m a princess!”

Yuck!

Kate looked at her. “Ooh! You could call yourself—” she began.

But Sophie held up her hand. “Don’t even say it.”

She could not wait to get home and change and start being a hero again!

W
hen she and Kate finally got to Sophie’s house, Sophie closed the door behind them with a sigh.

Phew!
It was great to be Ella’s hero, but two days of it was enough. Sophie hoped the next person she saved did not hang on her so much.

“Why didn’t you let Ella come in?” Kate asked her. “She’s so cute. And she carried your backpack all the way home.”

“Because I’m sore from Ella hugging me,” Sophie said, rubbing her sides. “And because we need to talk about important hero stuff.”

Sophie dropped her backpack on the floor. Then she froze as the door opened again.

Oh, no. Not Ella!

But it was just Sophie’s big sister, Hayley, and her best friend, Kim. They were giggling about something—probably boys. As usual.

All of a sudden —
BANG!
— there was a loud sound from the kitchen.

Sophie and Hayley looked at each other. They both knew what had made the noise: Max, their little brother.

For a long time, Max had been their baby brother. But now that he was two, he was not a baby anymore. Now he could run. And climb. And kick. And almost jump.

And he did. All the time.

There was one thing Max did not do, though. And that was talk.

Sophie thought this was a big problem. All the other two-year-olds she saw could talk. And talk. And talk. But Sophie’s parents said that
Max would talk when he was ready. Sophie was not sure about that. But she hoped so.

In the meantime, Max made a lot of other noises.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

Then Sophie heard another noise.
Meow, meow, meow!

A gray ball of fur dashed toward them. Sophie bent down and scooped it up.

“It’s okay, Tiptoe. I’ve got you,” Sophie said. She gently rubbed it with her nose.

Tiptoe was Sophie’s brand-new kitten. She and Hayley had picked her out at a shelter two weeks before.

There had been so many kittens, Sophie had thought it would be hard to pick just one. But Tiptoe was hanging on the door of her cage by her tiny claws. Sophie knew right away that the kitten wanted them to take her home.

Of course, the kitten did not know there was a
Max
waiting at home.

Poor Tiptoe.

Sophie cuddled her tightly. Then she went into the kitchen with Hayley, Kim, and Kate.

Every cabinet was open. The floor was covered with pots and pans.

That was how the kitchen always looked when Max was there.

“Hi, girls,” said Sophie’s mom. She was pulling Max down from the counter. “Okay, Max. Game over. Time to put everything away,” she said.

Max shook his head and grabbed a spoon.

Then he looked at Sophie and started to laugh.

“Sophie!” her mom gasped. She was not laughing. “What happened to you? Your hair is all blue!”

Sophie shrugged. “Just trying to be a hero,” she said.

Hayley rolled her eyes at Kim. “Third graders,” she groaned.

“What happened?” Sophie’s mom asked again. “I see you had to change clothes. Oh, I love that shirt so much!”

Sophie sighed, but she did not feel like
explaining. Especially not with Hayley and Kim there, too.

Hayley was not a bad sister. In fact, she was great … when it was just the two of them. But she was not always that great when she was with her fifth-grade friends. With them, she acted like she was grown-up and super-cool.

Too cool for Sophie.

“So?” Sophie’s mom said.

Sophie had to change the subject. She pointed at her brother. “Look out,” she said. “Max is going for the cat food.”

Sophie’s mother chased after Max, while Hayley grabbed the last two apples out of the fruit bowl. She took a bite of one and handed the other to Kim.

Sophie sighed. The apples were the green kind, her favorite. She would have liked one just then.

“Hey, guess what, Mom,” Hayley said. She took another juicy bite and chewed it. “Mr. Bloom brought in a pet for our classroom. Guess what it is!”

“A hamster?” asked Kate. Sophie knew she loved those. She had five … no, six … no, eight?

“No.” Hayley shook her head. “A snake. A
corn
snake, actually. And guess what we named him?” She shared a smile with Kim. “You never will.”

“Rumplesnakeskin,” Sophie said.

Hayley stared at her. “How did you know?”

Sophie shared her own smile with Kate. “Just smart, I guess.”

(That and she had heard Hayley talking about it on the bus home.)

Their mom came back with Max. “How wonderful!” she said. She got a big smile on her face. “You know, I used to love catching snakes when I was your age.”

Kate’s eyes got big. But Sophie was not surprised at all. Her dad hated creepy-crawly things, but Sophie’s mom did not mind them. Spiders. Crickets. Bats. If any critter ever snuck into the house, she was always the one who caught it.

Sophie thought that must be why she was so good at catching Max.

“I hope you got to hold the snake. Did you?” Sophie’s mom asked Hayley.

Hayley and Kim nodded.

“Was it gross?” Kate asked.

“No,” said Hayley. “It was great. Rumplesnakeskin’s not gross at all, or slimy. He’s soft and smooth. But snakes can still have germs. So you have to wash your hands after you touch one.”

Washing hands.
Humph.
That did not sound great to Sophie.

“And I bet you guys didn’t know this!” Hayley went on. She looked down at Kate and Sophie. “Snakes smell with their tongues, not their noses. And they sleep with their eyes open.”

“Why?” Kate asked. “Are they afraid your mom is going to catch them?”

Sophie’s mom laughed, but Hayley shook her head.

“Because they don’t have eyelids, of course,” she told Kate matter-of-factly.

“Really? No eyelids? That’s weird!” Kate said. Sophie had had enough of Hayley’s snake lesson.
Plus she knew that any second now, Max would get down and start banging things again.

She grabbed two bananas from the fruit bowl. They were too green for Hayley, but that was just how Sophie liked them.

“Come on, Kate. Let me change my shirt. Then we can go out to the playhouse,” she said.

“Hang on!” Sophie’s mom said. “Don’t you want to take a shower?” She lunged for Max as he pulled open the fridge. “Not so fast, young man!”

Sophie felt her pigtails. They were stiff and crunchy, and she knew they were bright blue. But now that the paint was dry, it didn’t feel that bad.

“Nah. I’ll take one later,” she said.

Sophie had wasted too much time already. She still had to make a heroic plan!

She pulled Kate toward the stairs. “Yell if you need a hero!” she called back over her shoulder.

A
s soon as she had changed, Sophie led Kate outside to her playhouse. She had the bananas in her pocket and Tiptoe in her hands.

Sophie’s playhouse had been Hayley’s, until she got too big for it. Now Sophie was getting too big, too. She had to duck when she went in. But there was still just enough room for two third graders inside. And it was still Sophie’s favorite place to have long, important talks with her best friend.

It used to be Sophie’s favorite place to play Hansel and Gretel with Toby. But that was back when they had been little. Back when
they
had been best friends.

Sophie sat down on a small wooden chair and let Tiptoe tiptoe around her feet. Then she reached for the pencil and notepad on the counter.

“Okay,” she said, trying to be businesslike. “What are some other things I can do to be a hero?”

“Hmm …” Kate thought for a second. Then she leaned out the little playhouse window. “Ooh, check out that giant spiderweb!”

Sophie watched her friend. “Hey! That’s it!” she said.

“What?” Kate said.

“You pretend to fall out the classroom window tomorrow, and I’ll catch you!” Sophie said.

Kate looked at her funny. “I don’t think so,” she said.

“Why not?” Sophie asked. “I promise I’ll catch you. And even if I don’t … we’re on the first floor.”

Kate crossed her arms and looked at Sophie the way her mom sometimes did.

“Okay. Fine,” Sophie said. She knew it wasn’t the best idea. But it was something.

“Besides, I’m your
sidekick,”
Kate said. “I need to be
beside
you, not hanging out the window.”

“You’re right,” Sophie said, scratching her crunchy, paint-covered head. She drew a big curly question mark on her paper. “But my next heroic deed has to be something good, like the firefighters talked about this morning.”

Kate nodded. “Right,” she said. “Like the school catching fire so you can save everyone or something.”

Sophie’s felt her eyebrows jump up. “Exactly!” she said.

“But we don’t want the school to catch fire,” Kate said quickly.

“No. Of course not.” Sophie shook her head. “But what if I pull the fire alarm anyway? What if I tell everyone I
thought
there was a fire? And that I was
trying
to save them?”

She could almost hear the cheers. She could imagine Principal Tate giving her a great big medal!

Then she saw Kate shake her head.

“If you pull the alarm, ink will spray out. And you’ll get kicked out of school,” Kate said.

“Oh … too bad,” Sophie said. She sighed.

She put down her notepad and picked up Tiptoe.

Would she ever think of some way to be a hero again?

What were other hero things firefighters did? If only she had some Jaws of Life! Or was it Jaws of Death? (And what were they, exactly?)

“Ouch!” Sophie cried all of a sudden. Tiptoe had grabbed her hair.

She reached up and gently pried the kitten’s claws loose. The dried paint made it harder. Then a thought hit Sophie smack in the middle of her blue head.

“Come on, Kate! It’s time to rescue a kitten from a tree!” she said.

They ran outside, and Sophie tried her best to get Tiptoe to climb the pine tree.

Then the maple tree.

Then the elm tree.

But Tiptoe did not want to climb any tree at all.

In fact, the more Sophie tried to help her, the more tightly Tiptoe clung to Sophie. Sophie was glad the kitten’s claws were so tiny. Or they might have hurt. A lot.

Oh, well.
Sophie sighed. She set Tiptoe down on the grass beside her. Then she pulled the bananas out of her pocket and handed one to Kate.

Sophie peeled hers with a frown and gloomily
took a bite. Then she chewed it, thinking hard. And slowly, she began to smile.

Sophie pulled the peel all the way off her banana. Then she held it up in front of Kate’s face.

“I’ve got it!” Sophie declared. “This is just what I need to be a hero!”