Cinderella Smith (7 page)

Chapter 11
Black, Patent Leather Tap Shoes

A
t my next dance class I still had not found my tap shoe.
Alas.
I told Miss Akiyama about all the searching and posters, and she just stood there and looked very, extremely stern. Finally, after tons of seconds, she said something.

“Keep practicing in your ballet slippers for now, but I want you to find that shoe!”

“Aye, aye, Cap'n,” I said, which we say around my house when we get an order. “I mean, yes, Miss Akiyama.”

“Girls,” Miss Akiyama said to everyone. “Now that we've learned all the parts in the Pumpkin Blossoms dance I'd like to have you start taking turns being the fairy.”

Rosemary T. raised her hand. “Will we get to wear the special tutu, crown, and shoe bows?”

“Not yet,” said Miss Akiyama. “You will get to practice with the wand, however.”

“Awesome,” the class said.

Rosemary T. raised her hand again.

“Just a minute, Rosemary T.,” said Miss Akiyama. “Cinderella, why don't you go first?”

I was so happy, I wanted to start tap dancing up a storm right then and there. A few of the girls looked disappointed, though, so I didn't. Rosemary T. pulled her hand down and looked mad, but Abby gave me a bump and Hannah smiled.

Miss Akiyama handed me a gold wand with a star on the end. I waved it around a couple times to get used to it, then stood where the Pumpkin Blossom Fairy is supposed to stand. The piano player, who I think might be Miss Akiyama's mother, started playing. I did the five taps with my right foot, which is how the dance starts, and then began.

Rosemary T. did not turn into a Dancing Pumpkin when I tapped her on the head. She told Miss Akiyama that she didn't know when it was her turn because she couldn't hear me tapping up to her without my tap shoes. The next time I tapped her on the head a little harder, which she had kind of asked for.

“Ouch!” Rosemary T. yelled, and the piano player stopped.

“Pumpkins do not talk,” I said. “Even magic ones.”

“You make a terrible Pumpkin Blossom Fairy!” she said.

“Well, you make a terr . . . ,” I started to say; but I saw Miss Akiyama looking more very, extremely sterner than usual. I bit my tongue for real, but not too hard.

“Let's have the next person try,” said Miss Akiyama. “How about you, Hannah?”

I handed Hannah the wand, and she took her turn trying out the dance. Next Abby went; then Rosemary T.; then Rosemary W.; then Emma, Nicole, and Amy.

“Good work, girls,” said Miss Akiyama as class finished up.

Dance class was regular and normal the next week until the end when Miss Akiyama said she had an announcement. She said she had picked who the Pumpkin Blossom Fairy would be, and that person was me!

I just couldn't believe that I got picked for the solo part. I was sure it would be Rosemary T., because she always gets picked and my tap shoe was still missing. Rosemary T. just couldn't believe it either. She crossed her arms and stomped out of dance class very loud in her black, patent leather tap shoes.

On the whole car ride home her mom kept asking her if she was feeling okay and she kept saying she was, but I knew that wasn't the truth. I kept all quiet because I did not want to be the one to tell Mrs. Taylor that her daughter had not gotten the solo part. When we finally got to my house, I super quick jumped out of that car and raced inside.

“I have some very, extremely exciting news!” I yelled. “With a humongous capital
E
!”

Tess came running into the room waving her hands over her head, just like you should when someone yells about very, extreme excitement. My mom walked into the room slowly with her eyebrow way up. I knew her eyebrow was up on account of me not using an inside voice, but I just couldn't help it.

“I would like to introduce to you the PUMPKIN BLOSSOM FAIRY!” I yelled, and did a big, low curtsy.

“Congratulations!” said my mom.

And we all three danced in the hallway together in a kind of made-up tap dance way.

After that I called my grandmothers to invite them. My Grandma B. said yes right away. She lives very close, and we can pretty much always count on her coming to things like spelling bees and lemonade stands. My Grandmother Smith said yes too. She can be tricky, because she lives a little bit far away and has to take a train. She said her friend's granddaughter just got the lead in her school play, and now she herself would have something to brag about.

Next I called Erin. When I told her about being the Pumpkin Blossom Fairy, she yelled so loud that I had to pull the phone away from my ear. Then she yelled, “Take that, Rosemary T.!”

“Oh yeah, that reminds me,” I said. “Would you maybe like to come to the recital? Then you can see what dance class is all about.”

“I would love to come to the recital,” she said. “Thank you very much for the invitation.”

Chapter 12
Big, Old, Brown, Ratty Tap Shoes

“N
ow is this real rain or just dribbly-spit?” Erin pulled her chair up next to me because we were inside for rainy-day recess.

“This is the real deal,” I said.

“I thought so.” She handed me an envelope. “I have an invitation for you too.”

The envelope was really big and thick, and I couldn't wait to open it, because I love getting mail. Inside the first envelope was another envelope, which was sort of weird; but I like opening envelopes, so who cares. Inside the second envelope was a fancy-looking card with curlicue letters. What the fancy letters said was that I was cordially invited to Erin's mom's wedding!

“Do you think you can come?” she asked.

“I'll have to ask my mom for sure, but I bet yes!” I said.

“I'm also supposed to ask you if you can come early and keep me company,” said Erin.

“The wedding doesn't start until five, and my mom says everyone will be running around like crazy getting the house ready.”

“Don't you mean getting themselves ready?” I asked.

“That too,” said Erin. “But also the house. They're getting married right there.”

“That's handy,” I said.

“Sort of,” said Erin. “But it means we have to finish unpacking and hang pictures. I also have to choose my paint color.”

“I was getting used to the stripes,” I said.

“I was too,” said Erin. She lowered her voice. “Another reason you need to come over early is because my almost-stepsisters are arriving that morning.”

“That's perfect,” I said. “Then we can watch them and figure out if they're wicked or not before the wedding.”

“When we figure it out,” said Erin, “what will we do?”

Rosemary T. appeared right then. “What's that?” She pointed to my wedding invitation.

In our house we have a rule that everyone has to be invited to everything so no feelings get hurt. I wasn't sure what to say.

“It's an invitation,” said Erin. “I'm inviting Cinderella to my mom's wedding.”

Rosemary T. got a weird look and stormed away. I felt a little bit bad about that, but I couldn't think about it for too long because Erin asked me that question again.

“So when we figure out about my stepsisters, what will we do?”

I thought for a minute and then I had a big
AHA!
I remembered something about weddings. “If they're not wicked, we won't do anything. If they are wicked, we can stop the wedding.”

“We can?” Erin looked very, extremely surprised.

“Yes!” I said.

Erin smiled the biggest smile I'd ever seen.

“I've seen it happen on my Grandmother Smith's soap operas,” I said. “There's a part during the wedding when the minister asks the guests if they have any objections. If we think your stepsisters are wicked, then we'll just let the minister know and he'll have to stop it!”

“Really?” Erin kept smiling.

“Yep, but we'll have to pay close attention. We can't miss that part, because if you don't object right then and there, you have to forever hold your peace. That means you can never talk about it ever again.”

“I'll be standing right up front,” said Erin. “I'll make sure not to miss it.”

“Perfect!” And everything was perfect until the fishy things started to happen.

The first fishy thing was that Rosemary T. made an announcement.

She walked up to the front of the room and sort of cleared her throat like she was very important. “I just want to tell everyone that you don't need to look for Cinderella's tap shoe anymore. I have an old pair that she can borrow.”

Charlie raised his hand. “How do you know they'll fit? Maybe your feet are tons bigger than Cinderella's.”

“They'll fit,” said Rosemary T., and her cheeks turned a little pink.

“How old are they?” asked Logan. “Are they falling apart?”

“They aren't that old,” said Rosemary T. Her cheeks got a little pinker.

“What color are they?” one of the girls who love horses asked.

“They're brown,” said Rosemary T.

“Well, I think this is mighty nice of you,” said Mr. Harrison. “Do you have anything to say, Cinderella?”

“This is all brand-new news to me,” I said.

“Is there anything else?” he asked.

I knew what Mr. Harrison was hinting at, but this was Rosemary T. we're talking about.

“I'm speechless” was all I could come up with.

And I didn't get sent to the hall, and I don't know how to explain this except that maybe Mr. Harrison doesn't know about doing that yet.

The second fishy thing was during last recess. Erin and I caught the Rosemarys taking down our posters from the doors and squishing them all up. We got very, extremely mad and started yelling at them to stop. They told us that the posters didn't matter anymore on account of the shoes Rosemary T. was loaning me. We said that wasn't the point at all, but it was too late.

The posters were all so crumpled that they were ruined.

When my mom and Tess picked me up in the car to run errands after school, I told them I had two very important subjects to discuss.

“Subject number one is Erin's mom's wedding. Erin invited me!”

“That's wonderful,” said my mom. “When is it?”

“Saturday, November first, at five in the evening; but Erin wants me to come over early. Can I go? PLEASE!”

“Of course,” said my mom. “Where is it?”

“It's right at Erin's house,” I said.

“Sara must be overwhelmed,” said my mom. And Sara, by the way, is Mrs. Devlin's first name. “I can't imagine moving into a new house and planning a wedding at the same time.”

“Erin has to finally finish unpacking and pick a paint color,” I said. “She's sort of overwhelmed too.”

“The wedding's the day after Halloween,” said my mom. “Do you know what Erin's plans are for trick-or-treating?”

“We've talked about costumes,” I said. “But not trick-or-treating.”

“What do you think about inviting Erin over on Halloween to spend the night?” asked my mom. “That might be more fun for her and help her mom out a bit.”

“I love that idea!” I said.

“Me too!” said Tess. She was a big fan of Erin's because Erin picked her up and twirled her around all the time.

“I'll call Sara and see what she thinks,” said my mom.

“Awesome,” I said. Then I remembered the fishiness.

I told her all about Rosemary T. saying I could borrow her big, old, brown tap shoes and the Rosemarys tearing down and destroying the posters.

“It doesn't sound fishy,” said my mom. “It sounds like Rosemary T. is trying to be nice.”

“Rosemary T. and ‘nice' do not go together,” I said.

“Now it seems like you're the one who's not being nice,” said my mom.

“ME?” I said.

“You haven't spent much time with Rosemary this year,” said my mom. “Maybe she's hoping that by loaning you her shoes, you'll be close friends again.”

“Mother,” I said. “You do not know Rosemary T. very well anymore.” I was all full of disappointment in her.

We turned onto our block and something fishy was going on right there. The Lost Shoe poster on the Thomases' streetlight was missing. The one on the Hansens' was missing too. The one on Rosemary T.'s was missing, but no surprise there. All of the posters were gone except for the one on Charlie's, who was playing basketball in his driveway. Of course.

“Argh!” I yelled.

The car swerved and my mom yelled, “How many times do I have to tell you not to yell when I'm driving?”

I guess she'll still have to tell me a few more times, but I didn't say that out loud.

Instead I said, “Now do you believe me about the fishy business?”

“How do you know it was Rosemary T. who took down your posters?” my mom asked.

“Mother,” I said, all full of disappointment all over again.

As soon as my mom parked, I jumped out of the car and went to see if Charlie knew anything about the fishy business.

“Hey, Tinder,” he said.

“Do you know anything about my missing posters?” I asked.

He stopped dribbling. “The posters about your missing shoe are missing now?”

“As a matter of fact, they are,” I said. “Except for the one in front of your house.”

“That's because I wouldn't let Rosemary T. take it down when she tried,” he said.

“Really?” I asked.

“Yep. She said again about you borrowing her big, old, brown, ratty tap shoes and not needing your shoe anymore,” he said. “But it's your poster, and it's my streetlight, so I told her to leave it alone.” Charlie started dribbling again and moving his feet all over the place. “I mean, you still need to find your shoe, right? You don't want to wear Rosemary T.'s old shoes forever.”

“Finally,” I said, “someone besides Erin who gets it!” And I was feeling so good about Charlie right then that I almost wanted to say sorry for thinking he had ever stolen my clog.