Stand Tall (14 page)

Sophie on her knees, searching through her book bag for the music.

“
I had it this morning.
”

Giggles.

Tree wanted to punch a hole through the wall and shove them in.

“Okay. Wait.” Sophie held Poldini’s “Dancing Doll” high so Amber and Sarah could see.

And with that, Sophie Santack cleared her throat, spat big,
and marched into the orchestra room to show what a tough kid could do with a tender instrument.

I GOT IT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

That’s what Sophie’s note said on Tree’s locker.

He looked for her in school. Walked though the packed halls, towering over the heads of students, but he couldn’t find her.

Sully lumbered by on his way to the principal’s office, sent there for turning his hearing aid off in social studies.

“Haven’t seen her,” he said glumly.

I GOT IT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

She held up a sign when he was at basketball practice.

Tree grinned at her, focused on the net, and actually made a basket.

He tried to act like he did that all the time, but inside he was soaring.

Sophie stomped on the bleachers.

“
I got it!
” she said excitedly when he came out of the locker room. “I got the solo at assembly
and
I got the solo at the Memorial Day concert after the parade. I’m going to be a soldier of yesteryear and play this medley of war songs I’ve never heard before, but I’m going to know them in my sleep by May. It’s going to be a lot of pressure, but I think I’m up to it. Mr. Cloud said I had true feeling for the instrument.”

Tree beamed. “That’s great.”

“And I needed this, Tree, ’Cause people don’t always get
where I’m coming from. Those eighth-grade girls don’t get it.”

“I know.”

“I’m going to bake brownies and bring them to school tomorrow. We’re going to
celebrate.
”

She smelled it before she saw it.

Couldn’t figure out what the awful odor was.

She turned the corner, holding the plate of brownies.

She’d fixed her hair extra nice, too, with that purple barrette.

Sophie was feeling as good as she’d ever allow herself to feel.

But then she saw it.

Trash bags with smelly garbage hanging from her school locker, piled around the floor, spilling the stinking mess everywhere.

Tuna cans.

Coffee grinds.

Broken eggshells.

She dropped the brownies.

Tore the barrette out of her hair.

Stood there frozen. Kids walked past her, holding their noses at the smell.

“I didn’t do this, okay? I didn’t bring this here!”

Then she saw the sign—in pink block letters.

GARBAGE GIRL

She tore it down just as Tree ran up.

“
Who did this?
” he shouted. But he already knew. “We’ll clean it up. Sully, Eli, and me. You won’t have to—”

Teachers were coming now.

Students saying it was awful.

The bell rang.

They stood there.

Mr. Cosgrove pushed a Dumpster into place; moved quickly. Took down the bags, threw out the garbage.

“They’re going to explode someday from all the garbage inside them,” he told Sophie, but it didn’t make her feel better.

She grabbed a smelly tuna can and stormed off.

“Sophie,” Tree shouted.

She kept walking.

Tree ran after her. “Where are you going?”

“I’ve got someone to see.” She was almost running, holding that can.

Pushed into first-period geometry—her class—stormed right up to Amber Melloncroft and Sarah Kravetz, who looked away, trying not to smile.

Mr. Pelling, the math teacher, said, “You can’t walk in here like that.”

Sophie slammed the can down on Amber’s desk.

“
If you and your friends ever do that to me again, you’re going to be sorry!
”

Amber shouted, “I don’t know what you’re talking about, and take your lunch off my desk!”

Sophie picked up the can, shoved it under Amber’s upturned nose. “This is a smell you know real well.”

“That’s enough!” Mr. Pelling shouted.

“She’s threatening me!” Amber wailed.

“No.” Tree stood tall. “She’s telling the truth about what you did. Now everybody knows.” He stepped closer. “I want to know
why
you did it.”

“Get away from me, you overgrown freak!”

“What made you think you had the
right?
”

“
In the hall!
” Mr. Pelling pointed at Tree and Sophie.

He marched them to the principal’s office.

“Threatening a student,” he told Mrs. Pierce, the administrative assistant.

The principal was on the phone with the superintendent.

They had to wait.

“Dr. Terry,” Tree said to the principal, “Sophie didn’t threaten anybody. Those girls have been mean to her for a long time.”

Dr. Terry leaned back in her chair. “Several teachers told me what happened with the locker. It was an awful thing to do. I apologize to you, Sophie, on behalf of this school. That is not what we’re about. But you should have come in here to talk to me as soon as it happened.”

“I never think about principals when I’m mad.”

Dr. Terry smiled. “I understand.”

“I don’t know if you do, Dr. Terry. You didn’t see it.”

“Sophie, something like this takes time to fix. I’m going to talk to Amber and her friends. I’m going to talk to their parents and to this school community at large. There is zero tolerance for cruelty at Eleanor Roosevelt. I’ll call your parents, too, so we can work this out together.”

Sophie looked down. “I don’t think I want to come back to this school.”

Tree’s heart just broke for her.

Dr. Terry leaned forward. “I’m asking you to give me a little time to make this right.”

“I’m in eighth grade, Dr. Terry. Unless I flunk, you haven’t got much time.”

Aunt Peach arrived at the school, folded her considerable arms, and eyed Sophie like a prison guard.

“What are we going to do about your temper?”

“They put garbage on my locker, Aunt Peach!”

“That was a cold, cruel thing to do.”

“And I let them know it. Sometimes you’ve got to shout the truth and wake people up.”

“Sophie, I like to think that truth doesn’t need to be shoved down people’s throats.”

“In eighth grade, Aunt Peach, truth needs all the help it can get.”

“I told Aunt Peach I’d rather eat dirt for a week than come to ballroom dancing, but she said it’s going to help me socially.” Sophie folded her arms tight. “Like there’s hope.”

Sophie stood miserably in a red dress near the wall of the YMCA gym, as far away from Amber Melloncroft and Sarah Kravetz as possible.

Tree stood next to her.

Sully and Eli were out front, hiding in the bushes.

Coach Glummer’s cousin Sheila tossed her head; Lazar tossed his.

They stood cheek to cheek, arms extended, knees bent.

“The tango,” Sheila said, “is making a comeback, and I want you to experience it.”

They rotated dramatically, not smiling. Lazar bent Sheila back.

“The tango is about
passion.
”

The boys started laughing, especially Jeremy Liggins. The girls giggled.

“The tango is about despair and emotional power. It was born during a time of great economic hardship. People danced it to express the sadness in their hearts.”

Sophie looked at Tree, who knew he wasn’t up to this.

“Don’t be afraid of passion and despair,” Sheila shouted. “We all have deep rivers running through us. This dance will help you find them.”

“
I’m there.
” Sophie grabbed Tree’s hand and marched onto the dance floor.

After sixty minutes of tango practice, Tree had found despair.

He was too tall for this dance.

To look directly into Sophie’s eyes, he had to bend low.

To fully extend his arms with Sophie’s, she had to grab his elbow instead of his hand.

He almost dropped Sophie when he had to lean her back.

And the worst part was, Sophie loved it.

“Okay, we’re going to connect to our deep rivers of despair, Tree, and get so sad, we can hardly stand it. We’re going to let all the garbage that’s been thrown at us come out and show these people what’s what.”

Tree was absolutely certain he couldn’t do that.

But Lazar picked Tree and Sophie and Amber and Jeremy to demonstrate.

They walked to the middle of the dance floor.

Amber looked at Sophie, held her nose.

“Mr. Cosgrove should have put
you
in the Dumpster,” Sophie snarled.

“You are
so
pathetic!”

“You think so?”

Tree stood tall, stared at Amber. “Stop it!”

Amber looked away.

Silence from Jeremy.

“Together with the eyes,” Lazar shouted.

Sophie’s dark eyes fixated on Tree.

“Okay. From that, young peoples, we find our sadness!” Hands on hips, Sophie stepped defiantly past Amber, who was having trouble finding anything. Sophie tossed her head, posed with pain.

A big part of the tango is posing.

She did a little twirl around Tree, who almost went in the right direction.

He stood there like a stage prop, trying to keep his deep rivers to himself.

Sophie stomped her foot, her red skirt flared up. She glared at Amber, who looked down.

“You see from that?” Lazar shouted. “The girl, she becomes the dance.”

Painful music swelled.

And Sophie Santack owned that dance floor.

She didn’t really need a partner, but Tree wasn’t giving up his slot. She came close: “We’re going to try that cheek-to-cheek thing and pray to God we don’t mess up.”

Tree prayed.

Bent down to reach her cheek.

“Stand tall,” Sophie told him. “Wear it proud.”

They danced cheek to chest, which was a whole lot easier.

Tree bent her back for the finish.

The music ended.

But not the pain.

That’s the point of the tango.