Sophie Hartley and the Facts of Life

by Stephanie Greene

  “Nora, please,” Sophie cried when Nora stood up. “Don’t leave me.”

  “Let me give you a simple analogy,” said Thad. He was preparing for the college PSATs and had been walking around the house spouting analogies for weeks. “Hormones are to a body as gas is to a car.”

  “A car?” Nora slowly sat back down. “This I have to hear.”

  “It’s very simple, Soph.” Thad leaned forward with his elbows on his knees. “When you’re a baby, you’re really happy, right? You don’t have to worry about a thing. You crawl around all day, saying ‘goo-goo’ and ‘ga-ga,’ and when you’re wet, someone changes your diaper, and when you’re hungry, someone feeds you. You with me so far?”

  All Sophie could do was nod. Even Nora was silent.

  “Little kids are happy too. They get to dig in the sandbox and make up weird superhero or princess games, and someone cooks for them and tucks them into bed at night. The toughest job they have is learning how to tie their shoes.” Thad was really getting into this. “So, you’ve got all these little kids running around, having a good time, waving sticks, pretending to be heroes and playing on the jungle gym and the swings, without a care in the world. But what’s going to happen if they don’t grow up?”

  Thad paused, as if waiting for an answer. Sophie looked at him blankly.

  “The world’s going to be filled with five- and six-year olds, that’s what,” Thad said. “They can’t hold jobs . . . they can’t drive . . . they’ve never heard of algebra . . . Who’s going to run for president?”

  Nora’s mouth fell open.

  “Big problem, right?” Thad shook his head. “So your brain says, ‘I’ve got to do something to rev up these kids or they’re never going to grow up! They’re going to want to stay young forever!’”

  Sophie was mesmerized.

  “It’s the same thing with a car,” Thad said. “If it weren’t for gas, a car would stand still. Sometimes, you’ve got to put your pedal to the metal and gun it or you’re going to run into that ditch or hit the little old lady who’s taking her sweet time in the crosswalk when you’re late for school. That’s what hormones are for.”

  “No wonder Mom didn’t want you to drive,” said Nora.

  “So you’re saying that hormones are gasoline?” Sophie said.

  “Heck no! That would kill us. Hormones act like gasoline.”

  “Where do they come from?” said Sophie.

  “That’s where glands come in. They’re like these—I don’t know—little . . . little kind of marshmallow-shaped pillows, scattered around your body.” Thad gestured vaguely in the area of his chest. “When a kid’s ten, eleven, twelve . . . the brain goes, ‘Let’s gun it! This kid likes being a kid too much!’ and the glands squirt out this hormone stuff, and weird things start growing in weird places, and one minute you’re happy but the next minute you’re crying if you’re a girl, or if you’re a boy, you want to buy a motorcycle or punch someone out.”

  Sophie and Nora were both staring at him, slack-jawed.

  Thad looked pleased that he’d held their attention so well. “Everybody needs hormones so they can gun it through high school and college, until before they know it, they’re boring, middle-aged people who have to work to feed their kids. It’s as simple as that.” Thad slapped his hands on his knees and pushed himself to a standing position. “Any questions?”

  “That’s it?” Sophie said. “Hormones and glands? That’s all I have to say to make Alice happy and Destiny leave me alone?”

  “You got it.” His job finished, Thad headed for the door. “I’m telling you, Sophie, they’ll think you’re an expert. Bye-bye, Destiny.” Thad wiggled the fingers of one hand. “You can take it from there, Nora,” he said, and was gone.

  “Well,” Nora said. She didn’t say anything else for a minute. “How did that sound?”

  “Good,” said Sophie. “I mean, I know that’s not exactly how the whole thing works—your body and everything—but it was good.”

  “It’s close enough for now.” Nora got up. “You know, I have a book Mom gave me. If you want to look at it, I can give it to you.”

  “Thanks a lot, but no thanks,” Sophie said quickly. The last thing she wanted was more information. What she didn’t know, she wouldn’t have to repeat. Out loud, in front of a crowd.

  “I don’t blame you. You’ve always been kind of clueless and happy in your own little world, Sophie. Now that I think about it,” Nora said with a laugh, “so was I. I might still be there if it weren’t for hormones.” She stopped at Sophie’s door. “Well, it’s in my room when you want it. Maybe I should hide it so you can sneak around, looking through all my personal stuff, the way you used to.”

  “I don’t do things like that anymore,” said Sophie.

  “Yeah, right.” Nora stepped into the hallway but then quickly turned around. “Oh, and tell the girls at your meeting not to wish for big boobs. I’ve heard they’re heavy.” And then Nora was gone too.

  Sophie got up in a daze and walked over to her art table and sat down.

  Her brain was a confusion of marshmallows and gas pedals and five-year-olds sitting behind the desk in the Oval Office. But what Thad had said didn’t feel at all embarrassing. That’s what was so amazing. And the part about everything suddenly speeding up, and people being happy one minute and miserable the next, made sense.

  How do you know when hormones start? Sophie wondered. Maybe they were flowing through her body right now. She never used to let girls like Destiny bother her. Maybe her hormones were allergic to Destiny’s hormones.

  Or wasn’t that how it worked?

  Maybe you could feel it when the glands squirted them out. Like a squirt gun.

  Sophie sat very still to see if she could feel anything.

  Nope. Nothing.

  Phew.

  Nora had offered to give her the book. Sophie wouldn’t have to steal it. When she was ready for it, she could walk right up to Nora’s room and borrow it.

  But not yet.

  Mrs. Dubowski wasn’t much taller than Sophie but she was twice as wide. She wore bright red lipstick and her gray hair piled into a bun on top of her head like a swirl of frosting on a cupcake.

  In addition to the stuffed cabbage, she’d brought a delicious Polish dessert called something that sounded like “hroosh-cheeky.” The pastries looked like bow ties covered with powdered sugar. Mrs. Dubowski said the name was spelled chrusciki and made them practice saying it correctly before she would let them eat one.

  John couldn’t get it right, but Mrs. Dubowski relented because he was little. John put the palms of his hands together, bowed, and said, “White Tiger thanks you very much,” in such a dignified way that Mrs. Dubowski told him he could have as many as he wanted. “Even Thad’s?” said John. Thad quickly licked his, which made them all laugh.

  Both the chrusciki and the stuffed cabbage were delicious. No one had to pretend when they said nice things.

  When Mr. Hartley told her about the date with five chaperones, Mrs. Dubowski laughed and laughed.

  “If I brought my grandson with me, that would make six,” she said.

  “It sounds like a movie,” said Sophie.

  “Or a sitcom,” said Nora.

  It was only when her dad and Mrs. Dubowski started talking about how to get stains out of laundry that Sophie excused herself and went upstairs. It had been a long week. She would be happy when her mother got home.

  For tonight, she had her two words: hormones and glands. Nothing embarrassing about those. All she needed now was a sunny day tomorrow so that Nora’s hair would behave on her date, and they would all be happy.

  nine

  Sophie woke up the next morning to the sound of rain.

  Oh, no.

  She sat up.

  Today was Friday. Tonight was Sammy’s party.

  Sophie leaped out of bed and hurried down the hall to the bathroom just as Nora yanked open the door. “Don’t talk to me,” she snarled. She br
ushed past Sophie with the hair dryer and brush in hand, stomped down the hall, and slammed the door to the attic behind her.

  Sophie sighed.

  This was crazy.

  This was absolutely ridiculous.

  Sophie hated hair. Hair was boring!

  “Boring, boring, boring!” she shouted.

  Great! And now she was getting upset about hair after she’d made a list and memorized it and had gone around repeating it to herself again and again. She’d promised herself she would never get upset about the stupid subject, and here she was yelling about it.

  And it wasn’t even her hair!

  “Dad?” Sophie called, stomping down the hall to her parents’ bedroom.

  “I’m in here.”

  The Hartleys’ room was a mess. The bed was covered with heaps of clean, unfolded laundry. The dirty sheets Mr. Hartley had stripped off the bed were piled on the floor, along with the blankets and the quilt. All of the drawers in Mr. Hartley’s dresser were gaping open, and several pairs of his sweatpants hung over the back of a chair.

  Maura was sitting on the floor of the closet, putting on Mrs. Hartley’s high heels.

  “I don’t know how your mother does it,” Mr. Hartley said, running his hands through his hair. It looked as if he’d been caught in a windstorm. “I don’t know how she takes care of all of you, and holds down a job, and cooks and cleans and does the laundry! All at the same time! Every time I turned around all week, there were more dirty clothes!”

  “I know. You told Mrs. Dubowski last night,” Sophie said.

  “And then the dust!” her dad went on. “Mom will be home tomorrow and I promised her the house would be clean, but every time I walk into the family room, there’s dust and junk everywhere!”

  “Dad,” Sophie said.

  “And shoes and socks! Hasn’t anyone in this family heard of closets?”

  “Dad!”

  Mr. Hartley stopped ranting and looked at her. “What?”

  “There’s a problem.”

  “You’re telling me.”

  “No, I mean about the weather. Tonight is Nora’s date. She’s going to be a wreck about her hair.”

  “That’s another thing! Nora’s hair!” Mr. Hartley sagged onto a pile of laundry on the bed like a balloon that was losing its air. “It’s too much. It’s all too much for one person to handle. What do I know about hair?”

  It was a good thing their mom didn’t get as emotional about the stuff she had to do. Her dad was clearly losing his grip. He needed calming down.

  “It’s okay,” Sophie said. She patted his back as she sat down beside him. “The thing is, all Nora has wanted for the past few months is to get her hair straightened. She’s asked Mom a million times, but Mom says it’s too expensive and that curly hair is wonderful and Nora should be proud of hers.”

  “Well, she should be,” said Mr. Hartley. “My mother had curly hair and she was beautiful. Look at her.” He gestured to the photograph of Mr. and Mrs. Witherspoon on his dresser. “I never once heard my mom talk about straightening her hair,” he said. “She was proud of it. I agree with Mom. Nora should be proud of hers, too.”

  “Dad!”

  Sophie had to stop him now or he’d go on and on. She wasn’t even dressed for school yet.

  “It doesn’t matter what you and Mom think,” she said. “What matters is what Nora thinks. All the people in the world can think you’re wonderful, but if you don’t feel wonderful, it doesn’t help.”

  Her dad looked at her for a minute. “I guess you’re right,” he said with a sigh.

  “I am right,” Sophie said. “If Nora’s hair looks terrible tonight, it will ruin her memory of her first date for the rest of her life. And when Mom gets home, Nora will be an absolute wreck and she’ll blame the whole thing on Mom and they’ll get into a big fight about it and it will be like Mom never went away.”

  “Okay, okay, I get your point.” Her dad smiled at her. “I guess you’re a little tired of the subject too.”

  “I wish people were all bald. Then no one would have anything to complain about.”

  “Knowing people, they’d start complaining about sunburned scalps.” The idea seemed to cheer up Mr. Hartley. “And about the glare of the sun reflecting off so many bald heads! They’d blame traffic accidents on it! What a picture, Sophie.”

  Sophie stood up.

  “Can I tell Nora you’ll take her to the hairdresser after school?”

  “I guess so.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Where have you been?” Alice cried, rushing up to Sophie when she got to school. Jenna trailed behind her, spinning her yo-yo. “It’s almost time for the bell to ring,” Alice said.

  “My dad’s freaking out because Mom’s coming home tomorrow and the house is a mess, and Nora was having a fit because it’s raining and she has a . . . oh, forget it.” Sophie opened the door and led Alice and Jenna through.

  “I thought you said your dad was doing a great job,” Jenna said.

  “He was, at first. I think it wore him out. I’m not sure men are so good at the children-laundry-cooking thing if it goes on for too long.”

  “Did you find the book?” said Alice.

  “Not exactly,” said Sophie.

  “What does that mean?” Alice said, her voice rising a little.

  “Alice!” Jenna said. “Calm down.”

  “Trust me, Alice. It’s going to be fine,” Sophie said. “Have we ever let each other down?”

  “No,” Alice said.

  “So, do you feel better?”

  “No.”

  “Boy, will I be glad when this meeting is over,” Jenna said to Sophie in a low voice.

  “You and me both.”

  “Any questions?” Sophie asked.

  The girls who were huddled around Sophie shook their heads. They had gathered after recess in an alcove off the hallway to the cafeteria and listened to Sophie with rapt attention.

  “What you said was good,” Caroline said.

  “Cars and gas,” said Gabriella. “Well, really hormones and glands, but I like cars and gas better.”

  The other girls nodded.

  Jenna had been keeping an eye out for their class among the groups filing past them on their way to the cafeteria. She ducked back into the alcove and said, “I think I see them.”

  “We’d better go,” Sophie said.

  “I don’t think being twelve will be too bad,” Megan said as they moved into the hall. “My older sister wears really pretty bras. They have lace and everything.”

  “Oh. That reminds me.” Sophie stopped and turned to face them. “Don’t wish for big boobs. They’re heavy.”

  Whirling back around, Sophie nearly collided with Mrs. Stearns. Her teacher took a quick step back and raised her right eyebrow ever so slightly—so minutely that Sophie was never sure afterward that it had actually happened—before continuing down the hall.

  “Omigod!” Caroline gasped. “She heard you!” The group dissolved into giggles, falling against one another and shrieking.

  “I knew the immature girls would go to your meeting.” It was Destiny. She and Hailey stopped as their class filed past. “You probably didn’t even say anything important because everyone was too embarrassed to listen.”

  “If anyone’s immature, it’s you,” said Sophie. “We’re not the ones who’re running around whispering about a movie about the human body.”

  Destiny blinked. Hailey looked at her for direction, but there wasn’t any.

  “In my family, the body’s no more embarrassing or complicated than a car,” Sophie said.

  “A car?” said Destiny.

  “I have a book, in case you two need to read it,” Alice said.

  “And I have three older brothers, which is even better.” Jenna spun out her yo-yo and yanked it back up again. “You wouldn’t believe what I’ve learned being around them.”

  “Really?” said Hailey.

  “Hailey!” said Destiny.<
br />
  “We can find out everything we want to know on our own, okay?” Sophie said. “So just back off.” John would have been proud of her.

  For a moment, Destiny was speechless. She looked around distractedly, as if searching for a different target. “Don’t you think you’re a little old to be playing with a yo-yo?” she said to Jenna.

  “What does age have to do with anything?” Jenna said.

  “Fine.” Destiny flicked her ponytail with enough energy that it would have wiped the entire group off the face of the earth if it had connected. “Be that way. Come on, Hailey.”

  “I don’t think Destiny’s going to bug us anymore,” Jenna said. “At least, not about that.”

  Her yo-yo was spinning inches above the floor. When Jenna lowered it enough so that it touched the ground, it rolled away from her as if it were running down the hall, until she jerked her hand and made it run back up the string.

  “That’s called ‘walk the dog,’” she said proudly.

  “And what we just did is called ‘getting rid of Destiny,’” said Sophie.

  “Relax your feet . . . relax your legs . . .” Ms. Bell’s quiet voice slowly floated through the gym. “Relax your stomach . . . relax your hands . . . let your whole body relax . . .”

  Sophie lay with her eyes closed and her hands at her sides. Her body felt limp, like a strand of spaghetti. Or maybe more like a car when you turn off the ignition and it stops moving and goes still.

  My body, my body, my body, Sophie thought. She didn’t feel the least bit embarrassed.

  ten

  “Bye! Have a great time! Have her home by ten, Ian.” Mr. Hartley shut the door behind Nora and Ian and leaned heavily against it. “Thank heavens that’s over.”

  “He kind of mumbled,” Sophie said, sitting on the couch. “I mean, he was nice and everything, but I couldn’t understand what he was saying.”

  “That’s because his hair covered up his face,” said John.