“Let’s see,” Miss Rosy said. “We’ll need a narrator to explain things. How about you be the narrator, Sophie? You definitely know the story best, after Ginette, and you have a good, loud voice.”
Sophie agreed, but immediately regretted it. Being the narrator meant she would have to stand in front of the audience the whole time. What if she forgot what she was supposed to say?
“How should we end the story?” Miss Rosy asked. “Any ideas?”
“I think we should sing something,” Brenda suggested. “Maybe Ginette could sing? Or maybe Sophie and Ginette?”
Elizabeth nodded. “You should hear Sophie sing. She’s got a great voice.”
Sophie stared in surprise at Elizabeth.
“Remember when you sang in that talent contest at Sam’s Theatre last Christmas?” Elizabeth told her. “You and your brother were great.”
“Gosh, thanks,” Sophie said, blushing.
“Do you and Ginette know any good songs you could sing for us?” Miss Rosy asked.
Ginette nodded at Sophie and said, “’Au Claire de la lune’?”
Sophie shrugged. “Sure,” she told Miss Rosy and the other girls. “We know one that I guess we could start off and the rest of you could join in. It’s a song both our dads liked to sing. And it’s a song about friends.”
“That sounds perfect,” Miss Rosy said. “Okay, girls, let’s begin. We don’t have a lot of time before supper to practise.”
The girls all squealed and rushed around.
Supper of hamburgers in big homemade buns, baked potatoes, and corn on the cob dripping with butter was so delicious that, in spite of Sophie’s stomach being jittery with nerves, she couldn’t get enough. And chocolate brownies and applesauce for dessert was yummy. Sitting across the table from her was Ginette, who certainly gobbled up her share, as well.
Sophie finally understood why Ginette had taken so much food before. They probably didn’t have much to eat in the concentration and refugee camps and now she was making up for lost time.
After supper they hurried back to their cabins to prepare a few props for their play and do some last-minute practising.
FOURTEEN
“Fire’s burning, fire’s burning. Draw nearer, draw nearer.” Gentle singing and a strumming guitar wafted in the air from the campfire.
“Okay, troop, time to go,” Miss Rosy said. “The show must go on. Break a leg, everyone.”
The girls were excited as they filed out of the cabin behind Sophie and Ginette. They took their places on the logs around the campfire and joined in the singing, “Fire’s burning, fire’s burning.”
Sophie’s stomach was flip-flopping all over the place. She should never have agreed to be the narrator. Everyone would hate their play. What if she forgot her lines? And she had to sing, too. In front of everyone! They would probably laugh themselves silly at their song. They wouldn’t even understand it. If only her brother were here with his harmonica to help keep her in tune.
She gazed at the crackling fire. A log fell and sparks sprayed into the dark. Waves lapped gently on the beach close by. The sky was turning a dark purple that made Sophie think of plums, and one bright star peeped out after another.
“Good evening, girls,” Miss Bottomly said when all the girls and their counsellors had assembled on the logs and benches around the fire. “We’re all very excited about this talent show. Let’s begin right away. Girls from cabin one will start, and cabin two will be next.”
“Who’ll be the judge?” someone asked.
“So glad you asked,” Miss Bottomly said. “The judges will be Mrs. Carson, Mr. Buzz, and me again. We’ll be looking at your performances and also watching the audience’s reaction. More applause means more marks. So be sure to clap long and hard for your favourite performances.”
The girls from cabin one put on a play about Goldilocks and the Three Bears, except they were all campers in a pretend tent with pretend beds. It was pretty funny, but Sophie had to really lean forward to hear Goldilocks. She talked in such a quiet, shy voice.
All during the performances Sophie’s nervousness grew. What if Ginette became all grumpy again? She should have told a funny story instead.
She needed some courage, a good boost of courage from Star Girl. She reached into her pocket for her Star Girl Super Bounce Ball. It was round and firm. It was strange that she felt so nervous and scared about a talent show, after what she and Ginette had been through the night before. Ginette didn’t seem afraid at all. In fact, she looked all ready to go. Sophie decided that if Ginette could be calm, then so could she. She smiled at Ginette and noticed the girl was clutching her dreidel. Maybe she needed help to be brave, too.
“Now let’s hear from the girls from cabin two,” Miss Bottomly said.
All the girls from cabin two marched up to the campfire. They were dressed in funny clothes, vests, and paper hats. One of the girls stood forward and announced, “We’re going to do a play called ’The Discovery of Gambier Island.’ And I’m the narrator.”
Everyone clapped politely.
“The year is 1792, over a hundred and fifty years ago. The month is June, and a cold wet June it is. Captain George Vancouver has sailed his ship, the Discovery, into English Bay.”
One of the campers, wearing a big paper hat and a wooden sword, stepped forward. “Pretty boring around here, mateys. I wonder what lies north. I need six strong and hearty volunteers to come exploring with me.”
All the other cabin two campers jumped up and shouted, “Pick me! Pick me!”
“Great!” George said. “The more the merrier. We’ll row up the inlet and see what we can see. Don’t forget to pack lots of food.”
“Maybe we’ll find those mountains of gold we heard tell of.”
“Early the next morning,” the narrator said, “they set out in two rowboats. It’s foggy and wet. By afternoon they row past a small island that seems to be in a narrow passage.”
“Let’s call that Passage Island!” George shouted.
“Righto!” his first mate said, writing on a clipboard with a long feather pen. “Duly noted, sir.”
“Before long,” the narrator continued, “they spy a large bulbous island with a pointy top.”
“Now who does that remind us of?” George asked.
“Ah,” the first mate said, “the head of Lord Admiral Bowen?”
“You are correct. Let that island be known henceforth as Bowen Island.”
“As they come upon each island,” the narrator explained, “Captain George Vancouver names them after different admirals—Bowyer, Keats.”
“And that one,” George said. “That must be the biggest and lumpiest island of all. A giant haystack with three peaks. Why, it puts me in mind of Lord Admiral Gambier. A large and lumpy man, if I ever knew one. So henceforth this island shall be known as Gambier Island.”
The narrator stepped forward and said, “The wind comes up suddenly and blows the small crafts into a bay.”
“Heave-ho, my hearties,” George said. “Lift your oars. We’ll take shelter here. Enough work for one day. Wonder what delicacy the cook will prepare for our supper tonight?”
The narrator said, “And that is how Gambier Island got its name. The end.”
All the girls stood in a row and bowed. The audience clapped and cheered.
Sophie thought the cheering was quite loud. She nervously swallowed back a lump in her throat.
“Well done, girls,” Miss Bottomly said. “Now it’s cabin three’s turn.”
Miss Bonny stood. “First, we have two people who have jokes to share with you. They’re known as the Two Bees.”
Beth and Belinda got up and stood in front of the fire. They looked a bit funny because Beth was so short that she had to stand on tiptoe to see everyone in the audience. And Belinda was so tall that she rounded her shoulders to look shorter.
Beth started by saying, “So, Bee One, why did the pig cross the road?”
Belinda shrugged. “I
don’t know, Bee Two. Why?”
“Because it was the chicken’s day off.”
The audience laughed, then Belinda said, “Here’s a little poem especially for you, Bee Two. ’There are gold ships. There are silver ships. But there’s no ship like friendship.’”
“Thanks, Bee One,” Beth said. “Okay, I’ve got a poem for you, too. ’Tell me fast before I faint. Are we friends? Or is we ain’t?’”
Then both girls linked arms and said together, “And that’s all, folks,” and they bowed.
The audience clapped and hooted.
“Thank you, our Two Bees,” Miss Bonny said.” Next we have Nora and Joan, who have a little song for you.”
Nora said, “We thought about this song at suppertime last night, and we’d like to sing it for you.”
“And you can join in if you want,” Joan added.
“Jelly in the dish, jelly in the dish. Wiggle, waggle, wiggle, waggle. Jelly in the dish. Jelly in the pan, jelly in the pan. Wiggle, waggle, wiggle, waggle. Jelly in the pan.” They both sang loudly, wiggling and waggling all around.
The audience loved it. They laughed and clapped and sang along, especially at the wiggle-waggle part.
After a few more acts, Miss Bottomly said, “Thank you very much, cabin three. Let’s have the girls from cabin three up here and we’ll give them all a good hand.”
As the girls bowed to the audience’s applause, Sophie eyes were drawn to the horizon beyond the cove where the sky was strangely bright. It was a full moon, rising huge and silent from behind the distant mountains.
“Okay, cabin four,” Miss Bottomly said, “your turn next.”
Miss Rosy stood in front of all the campers with her back to the campfire. “The girls of cabin four are going to put on a little play for you. And to narrate the play will be Sophie LaGrange. She’ll explain everything. Come on up, girls.”
Sophie nudged Ginette to stand with their backs to the camp-fire, which made flickering shadows on the campers’ faces.
“Um,” Sophie croaked, feeling tongue-tied. She cleared her throat. Her mouth was sandpaper-dry. For a panicky second she couldn’t speak. All these girls will think our play is the silliest, stupidest play ever, she thought. Come on, Star Girl. You can do it. You can! She squeezed her Star Girl Super Bounce ball in her pocket and pulled in her nervous stomach. Somehow this felt even harder than doing a Star Girl rescue! Even one where she had to follow someone trying to escape in a canoe in the middle of the night.
The audience was quiet and stared up at her, waiting silently with anticipation.
She cleared her throat again and took a deep breath. “This is my buddy, Ginette Berger. And she has something really special. It’s called a dreidel.” Ginette held up the dreidel and turned left and right so everyone could see it.
Sophie continued. “We’re going to tell you the whole story of her dreidel. It’s a story that began a few years ago in France when Ginette’s father carved it for her and her little sister just before he left to go and fight for the underground resistance movement.”
As Sophie told Ginette’s story and the other girls acted it out, she forgot about being shy. She looked down at the girls in the audience, and they all stared back at her with shiny and attentive eyes. Miss Rosy nodded at her encouragingly. Sophie’s cabin mates acted out their different roles with seriousness and courage, including the part where Elizabeth danced her dance from Swan Lake, accompanied by Mr. Buzz on his guitar.
“To finish our story,” Sophie said, “we’d like to sing an old French song. It’s my dad’s favourite, and I just found out that Ginette’s father used to sing it, too. It’s called ’Au Claire de la Lune,’ in English ’By the Light of the Moon.’” Sophie pointed at the round full moon, which hung over the still, dark water and formed a long, glistening path leading all the way into the cove. “The song is about someone named Pierrot who asks to borrow a pen from his friend so he can write a letter. It’s a song all about friendship, about old friends and new friends, and about the things we do for our friends. Like Miss Bottomly told us a few days ago, ’A friend in need is a friend indeed.’” She smiled at Ginette, who smiled back, her pale eyes glowing.
Sophie took another deep breath and started to sing. “Au claire de la lune, mon ami, Pierrot...” At first her voice came out quiet and trembly, but soon it became stronger and stronger until it was sailing over the dark, swaying treetops. And there was Ginette’s voice, too, higher and lighter than hers. Their voices intertwined and soared above the campfire and pierced the night air like long silver arrows.
As Sophie sang, she thought about when she and Ginette were kicking and kicking through that cold night water. Even when the big waves crashed over their heads, they had kept right on kicking and singing at the top of their lungs until they finally made it safely to shore.
For the second verse the other cabin four girls joined in. At the end of the song Sophie bowed low, and so did Ginette and the others.
Except for waves lapping against the rocks and the fire crackling, there was silence. Sophie caught her breath. Then the audience burst into applause. Everyone clapped and hooted. “Bravo! Encore!” they shouted. “Encore!”
Sophie grinned at Ginette and squeezed her hand. Ginette grinned back. All the girls—their friends—held hands and bowed low to the audience again.
At that moment Sophie knew that a friend in need was a friend indeed. In fact, she knew that many friends in need were many friends indeed.
SOPHIE SEA TO SEA NORMA CHARLES
Star Girl is a pint-size superhero with gigantic appeal for ten-year-old Sophie, a French-Canadian girl about to make a cross-Canada move with her family.
In 1949, the year Newfoundland joins Confederation, Sophie soars over flooded prairies, dinosaur badlands, and the peaks of the Rockies. Each chapter/border is a snapshot of provincial history and an adventure in which she flies her cape, and the flag, in the name of Stars everywhere!
YOUNG ADULT FICTION, 8-12
ISBN 0-88878-404-X • 5¼×8¼ • 152 PP • $8.95 CDN $5.95 US.
CRISS CROSS, DOUBLE CROSS NORMA CHARLES
Star Girl flies again in this sequel to the best-selling, award-winning Sophie Sea to Sea. Starting classes at her 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?
YOUNG ADULT FICTION, 8-12
ISBN 0-88878-431-7 • 5¼ × 8¼ • 128 PP • $9.95 CDN $6.95 US
BEACH HOLME PUBLISHING • WWW.BEACHHOLME.BC.CA
Sophie's Friend in Need Page 11
