Cinderella Smith (6 page)

Chapter 9
Thumbtacked Sneaker

T
he next time I packed up my ballet bag I ran into trouble of epic proportions. That means something hugely terrible happened, and this is what it was: one of my new tap shoes was missing. I looked everywhere and all over our house in a very sly and sneaky way. I did not want anyone to know what was going on, especially my mom. Finally, when I was searching through Tess's room for the third time, I decided to tell my little sister. I thought I would explode if I didn't tell someone.

“I can't find one of my tap shoes anywhere,” I whispered.

She didn't look impressed by this news because she's used to me losing shoes.

“Remember the Autumn Recital I told you about?” I said. “And the solo part? If I don't have my tap shoe, I might not get to be in it.”

Tess handed me Mrs. C.

I sat down next to her on her big-girl bed and dangled my feet over the bar that keeps her from rolling off. My stomach went all grumbling and nervous. Everyone was tired of me losing shoes. Miss Akiyama and my mom and dad would be mad-mad-mad. Rosemary T. would probably get picked for the Pumpkin Blossom Fairy and get to invite Erin to the recital. My eyes started to water, but I did not want to cry. I jumped off Tess's bed and started tap dancing to get all the bad feelings out.

“Why tapping?” asked Tess.

“I don't know; it just seemed like a good idea,” I said. “I had some bad feelings stuck inside me, and now they're going away. Do you want to tap too? The more the merrier!”

Tess climbed off her bed and started tap dancing with me.

“I just thought of something.” I stopped tapping and was a little out of breath.

Tess stopped too.

“Maybe I left my tap shoe at dance class.” The hurt in my stomach went almost all away. “I must have! But just in case, I'm going to pack my sneaker with the thumbtack stuck in it. It makes a pretty good tap shoe too.”

And it was good that I had packed my thumbtacked sneaker, because I didn't find my tap shoe at the dance studio either. It wasn't in the dressing room or the waiting room or in the Lost and Found.
Alas
. I wondered what Miss Akiyama would say, but I didn't have too much time to think on that because dance class started.

First we warmed up, which involves holding on to a barre and doing pliés and relevés.

Those words are French for bending your knees and going up on your toes, and we always do this part in ballet slippers because you can't go up on your toes in tap shoes. Next we practiced the Pumpkin Blossoms dance. I was hoping Miss Akiyama would be so impressed with my dancing that she wouldn't notice my feet at all, but she did right away.
Alas
again
.

“What do you have on your feet, Cinderella?” she asked.

“One regular tap shoe and one homemade one.” I hoped that would be the end of the discussion.

Rosemary T. rolled her eyes at me and made a big face to Rosemary W. “That is so dumb,” she said.

“And weird too,” said Rosemary W.

“Please explain.” Miss Akiyama sounded more interested than mad.

“My tap shoe is missing,” I said. “So I brought my thumbtacked sneaker to practice in.”

Rosemary T. rolled her eyes again.

Miss Akiyama looked at me quite serious. “I would rather you practice in ballet slippers today and find your real tap shoe before our next class.”

“Okay,” I said, even though I didn't know how I was going to find it.

That night Erin called me to say that she'd spent so many minutes staring at herself in the bathroom mirror that her mom had to knock on the door to make sure she was okay. Her name was all over the
FOR-SURE WICKED
page.

“I wish you were in my dance class,” I said, getting ready to tell her about my shoe.

“My mom decided I can only do soccer this fall,” said Erin. “With the wedding coming up, we have a lot going on. I can start in the winter if I want to, but I have to choose that or basketball.”

“I'm always having to choose too,” I said. “My mom is big into not overscheduling.” Then I whispered, “Actually, if I don't find my tap shoe, maybe I'll play basketball too.”

“You lost your tap shoe?” Erin asked.

“Yep,” I whispered, not wanting my mom to hear, “and I can't find it anywhere.”

“I'll help you find it,” said Erin. “That's what friends are for.”

That made me feel so happy that I stopped worrying about my missing shoe for a while. But by the next morning it was all I could think about.

It was a little drizzly, and me and Erin shared my umbrella while we waited for school to start.

“I thought you said it wouldn't rain until Halloween,” said Erin.

“This isn't rain,” I said. “This is dribbly-spit.”

“Dribbly-spit?”

“That's what we call it at my house,” I said. “I'm not sure what the scientific name is.”

The bell rang and we lined up.

Charlie and Jack bounced their basketballs in figure eights around us and the Rosemarys, who were sharing an umbrella behind us. The Rosemarys squealed every time the boys got too close, but we pretended not to notice.

“Not even the rain, I mean dribbly-spit, stops them,” whispered Erin.

We checked the Lost and Found at recess. It was huge and covered three lunch tables.

“If we don't find my tap shoe in here,” I said, “maybe we could make ‘Lost' posters for it like they do for missing pets.”

“That's a great idea,” said Erin. “We can hang them all over. Yuck!” She dropped someone's headgear back into the pile.

On account of how careful we were looking, we knocked some things off the tables. We picked them back up, though; and that's when the school secretary, Mrs. Bentley, saw us. She thanked us a ton for helping clean up the mess instead of being at recess. And I didn't think until later that she probably didn't know we made the mess in the first place.

When Mrs. Bentley walked us out to the playground, I told her the whole story of my lost tap shoe and the recital and the posters me and Erin were going to make. She told us we could hang three on the doors at school so everyone who came in the building would see them.

When recess was over and we got back in to class, I had an
AHA!
and raised my hand.

“Yes, Cinderella,” said Mr. Harrison.

“Can I make an announcement, please?”

“Certainly!” said Mr. Harrison, very enthusiastic as usual.

I stood up. “I have lost a very important tap shoe. It's shiny, ruby red with a fancy bow, and has my name on it. If anybody finds it I would be very, extremely grateful. Also, there will be a reward.” I hadn't thought about the reward thing until that very minute. I added it because the class was looking a little bored. People put their hands up. “Can I take questions?”

“Sure,” said Mr. Harrison.

“What's the reward?” asked Charlie.

“It's a surprise-prize, which is the best kind.” But really I didn't know what it was yet.

“Will you give yourself a surprise-prize if you find your own shoe?” Logan asked.

“Of course,” I said.

Rosemary T. raised her hand. “Miss Akiyama won't let you be in the recital if you don't find your shoe,” she said.

“That's not a question,” I said. “And I'm not doing comments now.”

“Time for PE, everyone!” said Mr. Harrison.

I heard some groaning from the Rosemarys' table, and that made me smile. I like PE pretty well, but I like it even better knowing that the Rosemarys don't.

Chapter 10
Autographed Orange High-tops

W
alking home from school with my mom and Tess and Erin should have been very, extremely fun, but I was too nervous. Erin and I were going to make posters for my shoe, and that meant I had to tell my mom the news. I took a big breath of air to get brave and spilled the beans.

“Mother,” I said.

“Mother?” My mom's eyebrow started to go up.

“I have some bad news to share, and it is bad with a capital
B
. My tap shoe is missing.”

My mom's eyebrow kept going up.

“But, but, but,” I said, trying to make her eyebrow go down again. “Erin and I are going to make posters all about it today and hang them all over the block.”

Her eyebrow stayed half up and half down.

“We already checked all through the Lost and Found and I made an announcement and Mrs. Bentley says we can hang posters at school. Also, I searched all over the house and I told Miss Akiyama and I searched all over the dance studio too.”

I looked at my mom, but I couldn't tell which way her eyebrow was going.

“Halt!” said Tess. That's army for “stop,” and she said it because we were standing in front of our house.

Erin and I raced inside and up to my room so we wouldn't have to talk any more about it.

“Do you have a shoe collection?” Erin asked.

I looked around my room. “I didn't think I did, but maybe I do.”

“Why is this one in a frame?” she asked.

“I guess because it's sort of special,” I said. “It's half of the first pair of shoes I ever wore. They were a present, but I lost one on the way home from the hospital.”

“It sure is cute,” said Erin. “What's this one doing on a shelf?”

It was an autograph-covered orange high-top.

“I lost it down the bleachers at a basketball game,” I said. “The team signed it before they sent it back to me.”

“That's pretty awesome,” she said.

“Snacks ready!” my mom called. “And the poster supplies are laid out.”

Erin and I ran to the dining room and got to work. We wrote
LOST
across the top of each poster in big letters. Next we drew a picture of my tap shoe. We made it ruby red with a fancy bow like in real life. We wrote my shoe size and then we put down my name and address. At the very bottom we wrote
REWARD
really big to get people's attention, since it worked in class.

We headed out the door with some tape and heard the bouncing noise.

“There's Charlie playing basketball of course, like I told you he would be,” I said. “And I guarantee you that Rosemary T. will appear as soon as she sees us.”

“
Alas
,” said Erin.

And all of a sudden there was Rosemary T.

“Hi, Erin,” she called, racing out of her house. “What are you doing with Cinderella?”

It was pretty obvious what we were doing, so I just went ahead and told her. “We're putting up posters about my missing tap shoe on all the streetlights.”

“You're not allowed to put one up on our streetlight,” she said.

“Why not?” I asked.

“Because you didn't ask permission.”

I thought about ignoring Rosemary T. and just taping one up. Then I thought she'd probably tear it down as soon as we left.

Right then Mr. Taylor drove up in his shiny car. “Hello, girls,” he said.

“Hi, Daddy!” said Rosemary T. “This is the new girl I told you about, Erin. Erin, this is my dad who is in charge of a bank.”

“Pleased to meet you, Erin,” said Mr. Taylor. “Good to see you as always, Cinderella.”

“Good to see you too.” Right then I got a big
AHA!
“Mr. Taylor, would it be okay with you if we taped one of our posters up to your streetlight?”

“It's not my streetlight,” he said. “It's the city's.”

“Are we supposed to ask the city if we can put these up?” I got a little bit nervous because I am usually a very law-abiding citizen.

“Oh no,” said Mr. Taylor. “They don't care as long as you take them down afterward.”

“I promise we will as soon as we find my tap shoe,” I said.

“Then tape away,” he said back.

There was only one other person on my block who cared about the posters, and that one other person was Charlie. Of course. I wanted to put a poster on his light post too, though, so we'd just have to put up with him.

“Hey, Tinder and Erin,” he called.

“Tinder?” asked Erin.

“It's a long story that I will tell you about later,” I said. Charlie never called me that at school, which I realized was really pretty nice.

“Can we put one of our posters up here?”

“Sure,” he said, and bounced his ball over to the streetlight to read the poster.

“You didn't need to include your name and address, you know,” he said. “If anyone ever finds a missing shoe, they know who it belongs to.”

I tried to put a “you're very annoying” look on my face.

He laughed and dribbled his basketball away. Just then the top part of the poster came untaped and folded down. I jumped up to try to get it taped again, but it's very hard to jump in clogs. I kicked them off and tried again. Erin jumped too, but she couldn't reach either.

“Do you need help?” Charlie yelled from his driveway.

“No!” I yelled back, even though a taller person would have helped.

Then Erin had the brilliant idea to pick me up and boost me. She got me high enough so I could reach it and then we crumbled to the ground. All we could hear was Charlie laughing. I was very, extremely embarrassed, and Erin probably was too. We gathered up the tape and two leftover posters and my shoes to head home, but there was a problem.

“Where's my other clog?” I asked.

Erin twirled around in a circle, spying all around. “I don't see it anywhere.”

I looked over to Charlie and yelled: “Did you take my shoe?”

“What would I do with a dumb old girl's shoe?” he yelled back.

I couldn't think of anything to say back to that, so I had to go home without one shoe.
Alas.

During dinner, our neighbor Mr. Hansen came over, looking grumpy and embarrassed.

He was carrying his dog in his arms, and his dog was carrying my clog in his mouth.

“He won't drop it,” Mr. Hansen said. “I don't want to yank it out because it might ruin your shoe.”

“Ralph?” I said, all shocked. “You stole my shoe?”

Ralph started wriggling, looking very cute and a little bit naughty.

“You're not going anywhere until you give up the shoe,” said Mr. Hansen.

“How about a trade, Ralph?” I held up a breadstick. “Can he have some?”

“It's fine by me,” said Mr. Hansen.

I walked over to Ralph and waved a piece of breadstick under his nose. He started drooling down my clog.

“Mmm,” I said, taking a big bite.

That did the trick; he dropped my shoe and grabbed the breadstick. “Thanks, Ralph.”

“This dog will be the end of me.” Mr. Hansen said that all the time, and I believed him.

“Did Ralph get out today?” I asked.

“Not that I noticed,” he said, “but he must have at some point, unless you threw your shoe into our yard.”

“Nope,” I said. “So now he knows how to break out and break back in again,” I said.

“I guess so.” Mr. Hansen took a cup of coffee from my dad.

“Hey, Mr. Hansen,” I said. “Did Ralph happen to find a ruby red tap shoe too?”

“I don't think so,” said Mr. Hansen.

“Could you check around when you get home?” I asked. “It's a very important shoe. Rosemary T. said I can't be in the dance recital without it.”

“That is an important shoe,” said Mr. Hansen.

“And if I can't be in the recital, Rosemary T. will for sure get to do the solo part.”

“I see,” said Mr. Hansen.

“She told me that at recess today,” I said. “She said she is the best dancer in the class and she's also Miss Akiyama's favorite. I'm not sure about all that, though.”

“That's enough, Cinderella,” said my mom.

“I am not spreading rumors, it's . . .”

My mom's eyebrow started to go up, and the room got very quiet.

My cheeks went a little warm. “By the way, Mr. Hansen, there's a reward for my shoe.”

“Rewards are good,” said Mr. Hansen. “What are you offering?”

“I'm not sure yet,” I said.

Mr. Hansen smiled. I started to feel a little better about almost getting in trouble in front of him.

“We'll keep our eyes open,” he said. “Mrs. Hansen, me, and especially Ralph.”