Sophie the Hero

by Lara Bergen

  The firefighters shook their heads. “No, we haven’t.” Then they nodded. “And yes … she sure is.”

  Mindy turned to Sophie. She looked extra, super sassy. But Sophie crossed her arms and raised her chin and looked right back.

  Meanwhile, Ms. Moffly stood up and shook the firefighters’ hands.

  “This has been a wonderful visit,” she told them. “We can’t thank you enough. But I know you have to get back to the firehouse. And we have to get to gym.” She looked around the room. “Class, please thank Firefighters Burruss and Jones for coming, won’t you? And thank them for being our heroes every day.”

  The firefighters waved.

  “Bye! Thank you!” the class said.

  “Yes! Thank you!” Sophie yelled.

  In fact, she yelled so loud even Toby stared.

  But Sophie did not care. About Toby. Or Mindy. Or anything. The firefighters had spoken. She felt like Sophie the Hero again!

  But Sophie realized something else. If she was going to stay a hero, she needed to be like the firefighters. She needed to be a hero every day.

  And I will! thought Sophie.

  Let the hero work begin!

  Sophie was on the lookout all the way to gym. She did not want to miss any chance to be a hero.

  “Tell me if you see anyone who needs saving,” she whispered to Kate.

  “Okay,” said Kate. She looked down the line of kids following Ms. Moffly. “Uh … saving how?” she whispered back.

  Sophie shrugged. She did not know. She really wished there were a busy street to cross. Or a den full of thieves to pass. Why did schools have to be so safe? Especially the gym! There wasn’t a thing to trip over, and all the walls were padded.

  As they entered the gym, Kate grabbed Sophie’s arm. “Save me!” she panted.

  “What? What is it?” asked Sophie, excited.

  Kate leaned her head back and rolled her eyes up. “From this smell!” she said. Then she lifted her head and grinned. “Get it?” She held her nose. “This place smells like moldy meatballs!”

  Sophie always thought the gym smelled more like sour sweat socks. But she basically agreed. Still, she tried not to laugh. Being a hero was serious business!

  Once they all sat down on the bleachers, the gym teacher, Mr. Hurley, made an announcement.

  “Today we’re going outside!” he hollered. (Hollering was how he talked.)

  Sophie pumped her fist. Hooray!

  After all, anything could happen outside! There could be a tornado. Or a wildfire. Or a tiger escaped from the zoo!

  Who cared if there was no zoo in Sophie’s town? Or anywhere close? The farther a tiger had to come, the better. Then they would have to write about it in the newspaper. And that was always good for a hero!

  Once they were outside, Mr. Hurley split the class into two teams. Today they were playing kickball, and today that was just fine with Sophie.

  Usually, Sophie did not like kickball much. Mostly because she played the same middle position — center field — every time. And that made it a very boring game for Sophie. The ball always seemed to go to the left or the right.

  But today that would give Sophie lots of time to be on the lookout for people who needed saving!

  Sophie waved to Kate, who was on the other team. Then she took her place and scanned the field for danger.

  Sniff, sniff. She sniffed the air for smoke. Or a wild tiger.

  She searched the sky for aliens. Or asteroids.

  Sophie was ready for any danger she could think of.

  Of course, Sophie knew she could not stop a wildfire. Or a tiger. Or an alien. Or an asteroid. But she could be the first to tell everyone to run!

  “Sophie, pay attention!” she heard Mr. Hurley holler.

  Huh?

  Sophie turned. She was stunned, but not because Mr. Hurley was hollering and waving his arms. He always did that. She was stunned that someone had kicked the ball to center field … and that it was rolling right past her!

  Sophie ran after the ball.

  “Aw, Sophie! Hurry! You should have had that!” her teammates cried.

  “Yay, Kate!” she heard the other team cheer as Kate scored a home run.

  Sophie finally stopped the ball and rolled it back to the pitcher. She really wished that Toby hadn’t been the pitcher right then. He was frowning at her. Hard.

  “I bet you did that on purpose, to help Kate!” he yelled.

  Sophie stuck out her tongue at Toby. “Of course I didn’t!” she told him.

  Sure, Sophie was happy for Kate. But she would never try to make her team lose.

  She put her hands on her hips and told herself to pay attention. It was not going to be easy to be a hero and play kickball. But she would have to try.

  Sophie kept her eyes on the field. And the ball. And the players. And before she knew it, she got her chance to be a hero—by saving Grace!

  Grace was in right field. Someone had kicked the ball to her and it was sailing right toward her head.

  Sophie knew she had to hurry. She ran across the field at top speed. And she gave Grace a giant push.

  They both fell—thud! The ball flew past them and rolled away.

  Grace jumped up and glared at Sophie. “I could have caught that!” she said.

  “Are you kidding? That ball was headed straight for your head!” Sophie said.

  Then Sophie heard the words that filled her with tingles. It was Mr. Hurley hollering, “Good job, Sophie! Way to go!”

  “See?” she said to Grace. Even Mr. Hurley could see she was a hero!

  Then she realized something. Mr. Hurley was hollering to Sophie A., not her.

  Sophie A. had kicked the ball … and scored another run.

  “Sorry, Grace,” Sophie mumbled as she trudged back to center field.

  “What does that big ‘H’ on your shirt stand for, anyway? Horrible?” Toby groaned from the pitcher’s mound.

  Grrr! Sophie glared. She was too mad to stick her tongue out. “No, it’s for ‘hero,’” she said under her breath.

  Sophie would show him. She had to save someone soon!

  But she was also kind of ready for the inning to end.

  Then suddenly her eyes popped wide open. There was something buzzing around second base — and Dean’s head—right in front of her!

  What if it was a bee?

  What if Dean was allergic?

  What if it stung him and he swelled up like Sophie’s cousin Will did once? Sophie’s Aunt Jan had called the ambulance and everything!

  But even if Dean was not allergic, nobody liked to get stung. One time a bee stung the bottom of Sophie’s foot and she couldn’t walk on it for a week.

  Sophie had to get rid of that bee so she could be Dean’s hero!

  For one second, Sophie worried that the bee might sting her. But she knew that was not how a hero’s mind worked. So she ran up to Dean and started whacking.

  She meant to whack the bee, of course. But Dean’s head got in the way.

  “Ow! Stop! Help! My hair! What are you doing?” Dean cried.

  “It’s a bee! It’s a bee!” yelled Sophie. “Oh, wait …” She looked at the bug more closely. “Never mind. It’s just a fly.”

  Then she saw Dean’s hair. It still looked like a toothbrush, but now it looked like a toothbrush that a dog had chewed on. Sophie tried not to laugh … but everyone else did.

  “Back to your positions!” Mr. Hurley hollered.

  “Uh, sorry, Dean,” Sophie said. She was careful not to look at him. And then, at last, it was their team’s turn to kick.

  Sophie, of course, was in the middle of the lineup. But for once, she didn’t mind. It gave her time to look out for more danger.

  Soon the bases were loaded and Toby was up. Sydney was on third base and ready to run.

  Then Sophie noticed something. Sydney’s sneaker was untied. She could trip and break her leg! It was Sophie the Hero time!

  Sophie dashed out of the dugout a
s Kate pitched the ball to Toby. She bent down and grabbed Sydney’s shoe just as Toby kicked the ball. Then she started to tie Sydney’s laces as Sydney began to run.

  The next thing Sophie knew, Sydney was falling down — on top of her. Then came the runners from second — oof! — and first—ugh!

  Sophie crawled out of the pile just as Archie tagged them all out.

  Then Mr. Hurley blew his whistle. “Game over!” he hollered.

  Sophie 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 peahen? 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!”

  The 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!

  When 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.