Sophie’s Secret (7 page)

“Very significant,” Sophie said, and jotted that down in her notebook.

There were dried flowers, now in confetti flakes, from Too’s bridal bouquet, and a gavel from when she was president of the Ladies’ Auxiliary. Sophie wasn’t sure what that was, but it was engraved in the brass plate which she examined with her magnifying glass, so it must be historically important.

“This is the best,” she murmured to herself. “The best, the best, the best.”

She spent all of Friday evening going through the trunk, and she was up first thing Saturday, even before Zeke, and got back at it again. There was much work to be done.

But Dr. Demetria Diggerty was no stranger to hard work and long hours. These precious treasures had been hidden away for far too long, by those misers of historical knowledge, Preston and Bailey McEvil. “I will dig until I drop,” Dr. Diggerty said. “I will not stop until I have discovered everything about the life of this amazing woman of another time and place—”

“Daddy, do you hear her talking to herself?”

Sophie jumped and looked around. Was somebody else in the attic with her? Like Lacie?

It took Sophie a minute to realize that Lacie’s voice, and then Daddy’s, were coming through the floor. Of course. This part of the attic was right above Lacie’s room.

Sophie—Dr. Diggerty—tried to return to her work, but it was as if she were being pulled by the ear to listen to them.

“I hear her,” Daddy said. “But I think that’s going to stop soon. She’s starting to change.”

“Right,” Lacie said.

“And I think it’s because of you, Lace.”

“Are you kidding? Daddy, she won’t listen to a thing I say.”

Sophie heard the chair creak, and she knew Daddy was sitting down on the corner of it.

“You might not think she’s listening, but she’s watching you,” Daddy said. “That’s one of the reasons I grounded her, so she’d be around you more often. You’re a good role model for her.”

“Thanks,” Lacie said.

You have to be KIDDING!
Sophie thought.

“You’re always my go-to guy,” Daddy said. “I know I can count on you.”

As the chair creaked again and Lacie’s door opened and closed, Sophie put her face into the pile of linens she’d pulled out of Grandma Too’s trunk and decided this must be what it felt like to be an orphan.

I really, really know how you felt, Jesus,
she thought with her eyes squeezed tight.
Because now I know how MUCH my father doesn’t understand.

Six

S
ophie worked in Dr. Demetria Diggerty’s world for the rest of the weekend.

When she couldn’t be in the attic—like when they went to church and when Daddy took them all out to the Crab Cake House—she tried to imagine Jesus and how HE felt when HIS father didn’t get HIM either. All of that kept her from remembering what Daddy had said—about Lacie being a role model for her—and from worrying about whether she was going to improve on her progress report. She still didn’t know what “cardiac arrest” was, but she was sure that she, like Fiona, was going to have it if she didn’t get to start making films with the Corn Flakes again.

Monday, when Sophie saw the last grade of the last class, she decided that Jesus had been listening.

“What’s the verdict?” Fiona whispered to her while their math and science teacher, Mrs. Utley, was passing out the rest of the progress reports.

Sophie gave her a slow smile. “Drum roll, please,” she said.

Fiona nodded at Kitty, who giggled and rapped her hands several times on her desktop.

“Language Arts—up by three points.”

“And?”

“Social Studies—up by FIVE points. That’s because I did extra credit after I went to Jamestown …”

“Go ON, already!”

“Computers—up by one and a half points. Same with health.”

“Whew—close one.”

“Math—up by three points.”

Kitty and Fiona didn’t say anything this time. They seemed to be holding the same breath as they watched Sophie’s lips.

“And science—up by one half of a point.”

“No!” the Corn Flakes said together.

“You’re right. I’m kidding,” said Sophie. “Up by one point. One wonderful point!”

The three of them started to shout a collective “Yes!”, but that drew a wiggle from one of Mrs. Utley’s soft chins, so they settled for their secret pinkie handshake, done in clandestine fashion between the desks.

From across the room, Sophie caught Maggie watching them, and for a second Sophie thought she looked a little wishful. But as soon as her eyes met Maggie’s, she busied herself with packing up her backpack.
That was still a thing that had to be fixed,
Sophie thought.
But right now —

Right now it was time to celebrate. Well, almost. She still had to wait until Daddy got home from work, and when he didn’t arrive until almost 6:30, she was convinced he was stalling on purpose. By the time he came in the back door, she was pacing a path in the kitchen floor. The progress report was in his hand before Zeke could crawl up his leg or Lacie could get to him with her new free-throw average. They didn’t even get to the kitchen.

“Don’t worry—it’s good,” Sophie said as she watched Daddy’s eyes sweep the page.

“You barely scraped by with getting the one-point improvement in a couple of subjects,” he said. “But you met the requirements. I guess I have to give that camera back to you.”

“And I’m off groundation, right?” Sophie said.

Daddy took his time putting his briefcase down and peeling off his jacket. He sure looked to Sophie as if he wanted to say no.

At last he sat down on a stool at the snack bar, so that at least he wasn’t looking at her from his towering height. “Do you think you’ve learned something from being grounded?” he said.

“Yes,” Sophie said.

“What?”

“That I shouldn’t mess with other people’s stuff—like their lawn—without asking first.”

“That’s it?”

Sophie blinked. “Is there supposed to be more?”

“Seems like it to me,” Daddy said.

Actually, there WAS more in Sophie’s mind, but she wasn’t sure Daddy would want to hear it. She closed her eyes and tried to imagine Jesus, explaining HIS purpose to HIS parents. Maybe there was a way …

Passing up
I learned that you really do want me to be a clone of Lacie
, Sophie took a deep breath and said, “I learned that you want me to be a team player and do everything the way everybody else in the family does it.”

Daddy started to nod, but then he didn’t. His black eyebrows bunched together over his nose. “Anything else?”

“That’s what I learned from YOU,” she said.

Daddy leaned forward, like he was suddenly very interested. “So you learned some things from somebody else through all this?” he said.

Sophie almost nodded. She almost told him about the Jesus-story Dr. Peter had given her. She almost did. Until she remembered that conversation she’d heard through the attic floor.

He’s thinking I learned something from Lacie,
she thought.
No way. That is just—that’s heinous!

Daddy was still looking at her, his blue eyes waiting.

“I learned from Mama,” she said, “that you don’t have to dig holes in other people’s property to be an archaeologist. I’m having great success in the attic.”

It was as if someone had ripped a mask off of Daddy and left him with a totally different face. He sat back on the stool and rubbed his palms up and down his thighs. Sophie waited, holding her breath.

“Okay. You’re free,” he said, “but just—just think before you do things from now on, all right?”

Think like Lacie, you mean!
Sophie wanted to cry out at him. But there was still one more question she wanted to ask, and she couldn’t do anything to jeopardize the answer being YES.

“So is it okay if Kitty and Fiona come over and film in the attic with me tomorrow after school?” she said.

“Tomorrow is a Dr. Peter day,” Mama said from behind them.

Sophie didn’t know when she had slipped in. She was carrying a box with various Christmas decorations poking out the top.

“But I don’t see why they can’t come Wednesday,” Mama said. “I’ll have all the Christmas stuff out of the attic by then so I won’t be in your way.”

“We definitely wouldn’t want to get in your way,” Daddy said to Sophie.

“Hello!” Mama said.

Sophie looked quickly at her. The drawstring mouth was pulled so tight, she wasn’t sure how Mama had gotten even that much out.

“Sorry—just messing around,” Daddy said. He took the box from Mama. “Where do you want this?”

She jerked her curls toward the kitchen table.

“Sure, bring in the Dream Team,” Daddy said over his shoulder to Sophie. “Just don’t—”

“I know,” Sophie said. “I’ll be aware of my surroundings and I won’t lose touch with the real world and I’ll be a team player and I won’t think everything is always all about me. Can I go to my room now?”

“Absolutely,” Mama said.

As she made for the stairs, Sophie heard Daddy say, “What was that all about?”

She didn’t hear what Mama said. She wasn’t sure she wanted to.

It was still disappointing that Daddy was probably never going to stand behind her the way she wanted him to. But the next day at lunch as she looked at the happy cluster of girls at her table—Harley and Gill and Vette and Nikki and Kitty and Fiona—she decided she had plenty of other people to do that, and she felt her wisp of a smile forming.

It got bigger when Maggie plunked herself down across from her.

“You’re here!” Sophie said.

“I just have a question for you,” she said.

“Yes, you can still be a Corn Flake girl—anytime you want.”

Maggie rolled her eyes. “You can give that up,” she said. “It’s a different question.”

“So stop loitering around it and ask it,” Fiona said.

“Only Sophie can answer it,” Maggie said, every word heavy.

“Which she can only do if you ASK IT!” Fiona said.

Maggie ignored her. Her dark eyes were on Sophie. “Is it true that you’re going to a psychiatrist?”

Sophie’s tongue turned to stone right in her mouth. That was something Kitty and Fiona already knew, and it was no big deal to them. But Harley and Gill and the twins didn’t know about it. What were they going to think?

Sophie could feel her cheeks burning, and it was all she could do not to lower her head and pull her long hair over her face. But she didn’t know why, not really. It had always been so easy to just be honest about things. Now she wasn’t sure she could even get her tongue moving.

“That is SO nobody’s business but Sophie’s!” Fiona said.

“YOU know, though, don’t you?” Maggie said to her.

“Only because she wanted to tell me—not because I plopped myself in the middle of her business and asked her!”

Gill put her mouth close to Sophie’s ear. “Harley wants to know if you want her to kick Maggie’s tail.”

“No!” Sophie said. It was suddenly enough that they were sticking up for her. She straightened her shoulders. “I don’t go to a psychiatrist,” she said.

“See!” Gill said.

“I go to a child psychologist. He helps me figure things out so I can get better grades and have friends and understand about God.”

“Oh,” Maggie said. The expression on her face didn’t change from its set-in-concrete stare. “So are you crazy or not?”

“No, she’s not crazy!” Fiona said. “Does she ACT like she’s crazy?”

Maggie shrugged. “Sometimes. When she’s all pretending and stuff—it’s like it’s real to her.”

“And this is a problem because?” Fiona said.

Maggie gave a final shrug and got up. “I was just asking,” she said.

She lumbered off toward the trashcans.

“Thanks, y’all,” Sophie said.

“Of course,” Fiona said. And then she switched the subject to what everybody was asking to get for Christmas.

Sophie couldn’t wait to get settled in on the window seat that afternoon to tell Dr. Peter what she’d learned from the Bible verses and how it was working. She didn’t even have to hug a face pillow while she was talking.

But to her surprise, he picked one up and toyed with its fuzzy eyebrows before he said, “So did you read the rest of it, Loodle?”

“There was more?”

“I love what you got out of that part.” Dr. Peter wrinkled his nose so his glasses scooted up. “But what do you say we dig a little deeper, together? I have a surprise for you.”

Sophie could feel her smile spreading practically to her earlobes as Dr. Peter reached behind him and pulled out two helmets. They looked just like what explorers wore in those old movies about going on safaris and stuff. She had watched the animated version of
Tarzan
with Zeke enough times to recognize them immediately.

“Are these for us?” she said. She could hear her voice going up into its high-pitched squeal.

“A helmet for each of us,” Dr. Peter said. He handed Sophie one and perched the other on top of his gel-stiff curls. “Because you never know what kind of jungle we might get into.”

Sophie tucked her hair up into hers, and although it came down to the tip of her nose and she had to tilt her head to see, she felt more like Dr. Demetria Diggerty than ever. But she concentrated on staying in Sophie-Land.