Read The French Girl Online

Authors: Felicia Donovan

The French Girl (7 page)

“What is your favorite?”

“One patient wrote that the two bears stop and stare at each other for a few minutes because they are so in love, giving the turtle plenty of time to cross.”

I liked that ending.  “Is that how it goes?” I asked Giselle, but she shrugged.

“The story is whatever you want it to be,” Giselle said.

“And what do you like to eat?” Eppy asked as she felt around my neck.

“I ate everything Giselle made last night.”

“Yes, but her tummy did not like it so much,” Giselle added.  “I should not have made so much food.”

“Oh?” Eppy said.  She had me lie down and felt my stomach and listened to it with a stethoscope.  “Do you get tummy aches often?”

“Only when I…” I began to say.

“Only when you what?” she asked sitting me back up.

“Sometimes, if I get …upset.”

“Hop on down,” she said smiling.  “I think you’re fine.”

“Really?” Giselle asked.

“She looks great,” Eppy said as she made notes on my chart.  “Her ears, eyes, lungs, everything looks fine.  My only concern is her weight.”

***

I had been leaning down tying my shoe and stopped as the words floated down to me. I suddenly felt the breakfast eggs stirring around in my stomach.

Eppy turned a chart around for us both to look at. “She’s in the sixtieth percentile for her height, but only the thirtieth percentile for her weight.”

“Meaning what?” Giselle asked.

“Meaning,” Eppy said as she leaned over and poked me in the belly, “that you need to gain some weight.  But I’m quite confident that staying with Giselle will take care of that.”

***

Gain weight?  This could not be true.  I could not believe my ears.

“Are you sure?” I asked her.  “Because Maman …”

“Because Maman what?” Giselle asked.

I shook my head. “Nothing.”

“I’m quite sure,” Eppy said.  “Remember, I’m the doctor.  We’ll check it again in a few weeks.  Eat whatever Giselle asks you to and you’ll be fine.  Now the only other thing we need to do is get your immunizations up to date.  The records they gave you,” she said speaking to Giselle, “are a bit incomplete.  She’ll need a quick booster to enroll in the school.”

Giselle glanced anxiously at me.  “But I thought…” she said pulling me closer to her.  “I told her…”

“It will be just a quick pinch, Etoile,” she said as she took a long needle from a tray.

“Oh, Eppy, does she have to have that today?  I told her she did not…”

“She does to get into school.  They can’t let her in without record of her immunizations being up-to-date.  Come on, Etoile; let’s roll up that sleeve…”

“Eppy, is there anyway…”

Eppy stopped, looked at Giselle and laughed.  “Etoile, do you see what’s happening here?”

I shook my head.

“Your cousin is afraid, but I bet you are very brave.  Maybe you need to hold Giselle’s hand while I give you this.”

“Oh Eppy, please,” Giselle said as I grabbed onto her hand.  Before she could protest further, I felt a small pinch.

“There, all done. Do you think you’ll be alright now?” she asked turning to Giselle.  Giselle looked a little pale around the mouth. She nodded.

Eppy laughed and rubbed my head.  “You must take good care of Giselle now, okay Etoile? Let’s hope she never needs a shot.”  Eppy began to wash her hands at the sink. “Are we still on for Saturday night?”

“I told Carol I am going to have to check with Jean. We did not expect…” she began.

“Of course.  Just let us know.” Shaking my hand, she said, “Etoile, it was so nice to meet you.  Take good care of Giselle, alright?”

“I will,” I said.

***

I liked this Eppy.  Jew or no Jew, I liked the way she asked me to take care of Giselle. I never had anyone else to take care of before.  I thought for a minute about how Anais used to take care of Maman when she could not get out of bed, but this was somehow different.  I did not think I would ever need to care for Giselle like Anais had to care for Maman.

“So what did you think of Eppy?” Giselle asked as we drove away.

“I like her a lot.”

“Good.”

***

Giselle tapped the folder of papers in the palm of her hand over and over while we waited.  Unlike the school in Cote Nouveau, this school was very modern looking with walls that were colorfully painted.  There were several displays along the walls opposite the principals’ office including “Student of the Month” which was all about a girl named, “Winnie Wickham,” and a “Can You Dig It,” display about pyramids.  A picture of President Carter was framed with a sign that read “Our Thirty-Eighth President” below it mounted next to a flag.

An older woman dressed in a blue jumper came in.  Her hair was mostly white.  The buttons going up and down the front of her jumper were shaped like crayons, pens and pencils.

“I’m so sorry to keep you waiting.  I’m Mrs. Darby, the principal.”

She shook both of our hands.

“Welcome, Etoile,” she said.  “What a lovely name.  French, is it?”

“Yes,” Giselle answered for me.

“And you are Mrs. Toussaint?”

“No, I am her cousin, Giselle Simone. I have temporary guardianship of Etoile.”

The woman glanced quickly at the papers Giselle handed her and nodded. “I see.  Very nice to meet you, Mrs…

“Ms.”

“Ms. Simone.  I understand you would like to enroll Etoile in our school.”

“Yes.  The caseworker said it was important that her school year not be interrupted.”

“I agree. That is very important.  Do you have any idea how long she’ll be staying with you?”

Giselle gave me an anxious glance.  “We do not know for certain, but I know it will be for at least the remainder of the school year.”

This was news to me.  Giselle quickly looked away from me and turned back to the woman.

“Very well.  We’ll need to do some testing to make sure she is placed correctly and get some baseline assessments.” Turning to me, she said, “Don’t worry at all, Etoile, these are some very fun tests that I think you’ll enjoy to make sure we put you in the most appropriate class.”

“When will you do that?” Giselle asked.

The woman glanced at her watch.  “If you have time, we can do it right now.”

Another woman, Mrs. Blakely, took me into a room with a big computer in one corner, and a long table in the other. She was very friendly and asked me about my school in Cote Nouveau.

I do not know how long we were in the room.  She passed me booklet after booklet filled with questions on all different subjects. I struggled with the math part, but the reading questions were very simple. As I finished each booklet, the woman typed quickly into the computer. She also had me finish some half-drawn pictures of objects and place several puzzles together.  Finally, the printer whirred as long sheets of paper spit out. Folding the stack of papers up like an accordion, she brought me back to Mrs. Darby’s office.  As we approached the door, I heard Giselle speaking with Mrs. Darby.

“I have not had a chance to tell her everything, but my biggest concern is that she not be ostracized in any way because of…”

The woman, Mrs. Blakely, cleared her throat loudly and handed the papers over to Mrs. Darby.

Giselle smiled and took my hand.  “How did it go?” she asked.

“It was fine.”

“Well!” Mrs. Darby said as she flipped through the pages. “It looks like we have a scholar on our hands.” Glancing up, she nodded to me.  “Etoile is actually several grade levels ahead in reading.”  Giselle smiled and squeezed my hand. “And she’s just slightly behind in math, but I’m not at all concerned about that.  A strong reader can often compensate in many ways.”

Mrs. Blakely returned with a sheet and handed it to Mrs. Darby.

“Thank you, Mrs. Blakely,” she said as she glanced up and down the sheet. “Very well, then, Etoile.  We’re going to place you in Mrs. Spenser’s class. All of the fifth graders love her.  She has a very strong reading program that hopefully, will keep you challenged.”

“When would she start?” Giselle asked.

“She’s welcome to start tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow!” Giselle answered, glancing anxiously at me.  “But she just came to me yesterday.”

“I understand,” Mrs. Darby said, “but trust me that from my experience, it’s better for the student to get back into a routine as quickly as possible.  For you and for her…” She glanced at the forms Giselle had filled out. “I will notify the bus company this afternoon and they’ll put your address on the route.  She’ll have to wait at the end of the road.”

“Yes, but tomorrow...” Giselle said again shaking her head.  “I did not think it would be so soon.”  She bit her lower lip and looked at me. “What do you think,
Cherie
?  Could you do this tomorrow?”

I shrugged my shoulders because I did not want to do this tomorrow anymore than I wanted to do it on Monday or the day after that but it did not seem to matter.

Mrs. Darby glanced at her watch and stood up. “Why don’t we take a walk down and I’ll introduce you?  We’ll catch the class just before they head out for lunch.”

I stayed very close to Giselle as we walked down the long corridor to the fifth grade wing. A thin band of cork in a silver frame ran along the entire edge of the hallway and all along, papers, drawing and projects were stapled to it.

Mrs. Darby paused at the door to a classroom and peered in the small window.  She waited a few seconds before knocking and opening the door.  A black woman, who was standing at a blackboard, stopped and smiled.

“Please, come in,” the woman said.

The entire class fell into silence as Giselle and I stepped in.

“Excuse the interruption, Mrs. Spenser,” Mrs. Darby said, “but I’d like to introduce your class to a new student.  Her name is Etoile Toussaint and she’ll be starting tomorrow.”

Surely this could not be right.  I had never met a black teacher before. The only black people I knew were Mr. and Mrs. Jackson who helped out at Lamont’s dry cleaners back in Cote Nouveau. They worked only in the back and lived in a tiny apartment above the store.  Maman once said that if
les noirs
were in the front, no one would go in.  Maman also said that they only reason people went to Lamont’s,
la chèvre avare,
the stingy goat, in the first place was because he was the only one who was able to get the smell of fish off of things.

Mrs. Spenser came over and offered her hand to me. I could not help but stare at the contrast of her brown skin and her white nails for a second or two.  I had never seen a black person’s hand up close before.  I suddenly felt Giselle nudging me from behind.  Glancing up at her, she flashed her eyes at me towards Mrs. Spenser.  I shook Mrs. Spenser’s hand.  It felt very smooth and for some reason, that surprised me.  I could not imagine what Maman would have said had she been standing there watching me touch a black woman.

“Welcome, Etoile,” she said.  “What a lovely French name. And is this your mother?” she asked offering her hand to Giselle.

Giselle smiled and shook Mrs. Spenser’s hand.  “Actually, I am her cousin, Giselle Simone. Etoile will be living with me.”

I did not bother to correct Giselle because I did not want to be rude.

A bell rang. The students all stood up.

“Have a wonderful lunch, Children,” Mrs. Spenser yelled out as they shuffled quickly out the door.  “Would you like to stay and look around the classroom for a few minutes?”

“If you’ll excuse me,” Mrs. Darby said, “I need to get down to the cafeteria for duty.”

Turning to Giselle and me, she said, “It was so nice meeting you both.  Feel free to call my office if you have any questions or concerns.  I know you’ll enjoy it here, Etoile.”

I nodded and strolled around looking at the classroom. On one wall was a poster on “The English Colonies” with a map of New Hampshire and Maine. Below it was a sign that said, “The New Government.”  My eyes ventured to a wall of built-in shelves filled with books including
Little Lord Fauntleroy
,
The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes, Rebecca, All Creatures Great and Small
and several different, but well-worn copies of
Anne of Green Gables
.

“Do you enjoy reading, Etoile?” Mrs. Spenser asked.

“Yes.”

“Mrs. Darby just said she tested several grade levels ahead,” Giselle quickly added and I felt a funny feeling, but a good feeling, in my stomach when she said it.

“Excellent.  As you can see, I have many books for you to borrow. We also have a wonderful library.  In fact, we have library tomorrow as our special, so you will get a chance to see it then.”

“Is there anything she will need to bring?” Giselle asked.

“Pencil, pens, a book bag and lunch or lunch money,” Mrs. Spenser said.  “We’ll supply everything else.”

I looked all around the classroom and it seemed so much bigger than my class back in Cote Nouveau, with its sparse shelves and flaking walls.  But thinking about Cote Nouveau made me realize that I knew every single student back there and here, I would not know anyone.  My stomach shifted a little.

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