Little Sister Is Not My Name Read online

  “Thank you, ma’am,” I say politely.

  “Look, Little Sister,” Sadora whispers as the woman escorts us to our table. “All the table napkins have been folded into the shape of a bird!”

  I try not to stare. Gold-trimmed plates, pink tablecloths, and candles decorate each table.

  “This is my kind of place!” I whisper to Grammy.

  “Look at all the lights, Little Sister,” Sabin says, pointing. I gasp.

  The city is spread out beneath us. I look in awe at millions of streetlights and building lights twinkling. The headlights from cars that look like toys. I also see what might be flickers of lightning in the distance, but it’s far away.

  “Wow!” I say again.

  “Does it make you dizzy?” Sabin asks, staring in wonder at the beautiful scene beneath us.

  “No,” I tell him. “It makes me feel powerful. Like this is my kingdom and I’m the queen of all that.”

  “I feel ya,” he says.

  The waiter brings us really huge menus, almost as tall as I am, with several pages describing the food and the wine.

  “I feel so grown-up,” I tell Mom. “We should come here every night.” She and Daddy laugh.

  “Hey, Little Sister, how many forks does it take to eat a hamburger?” Sabin asks me as he looks at all the silverware next to our plates.

  “You can’t come to a restaurant like this and order an ordinary hamburger!” I tell him. “You have to order something fancy!”

  “But I like hamburgers!”

  “You like everything, Sabin,” Mom says with a laugh. “Sassy is right. Why don’t you discover something new tonight?” Sabin scowls and rechecks his menu.

  “May I take your orders?” the waiter asks pleasantly. He’s dressed in a black tuxedo. Like I said, elegant all the way.

  Sadora says, “I’ll have the vegetarian plate.”

  Yuck.

  “I guess I’ll try the steak,” Sabin says.

  “Me, too,” says Daddy.

  Mom orders something with chicken. I could have predicted that. And Grammy orders grilled salmon with tomatoes. She always eats healthy stuff.

  When the waiter gets to me, he says, “And what dish may I have the chef prepare for you, mademoiselle?” I’m pretty sure that means “miss” in the French language, but it sounds so sophisticated coming from a guy dressed in a tuxedo.

  I sit up a little taller in my seat and tell him in my most elegant voice, “I’ll have the Alfredo Deluxe, please.” I think it’s pasta and cheese sauce.

  I try to sound very grown-up, but my voice still sounds sorta squeaky. But the waiter actually bows to me just before he walks away. Way cool!

  Mom and Daddy are in a wonderful mood, laughing and making jokes as we eat. Grammy tells a couple of funny stories.

  Sabin drinks two sodas, plus five glasses of lemonade, and gobbles all of his giant steak. That thing could have fed a small country for a couple of weeks.

  “You’re gonna pop!” Daddy warns him.

  “I’m a growing boy!” Sabin answers with a grin.

  I sit real close to Grammy, hating the fact that she’ll be heading to the airport in the morning.

  “I want this evening to last forever,” I tell my family. Grammy gives me a big hug.

  Sabin does his best to make my wish come true — making sure everybody orders dessert. Sadora only eats one bite of her apple pie, so Sabin finishes it for her.

  He also gobbles his own chocolate cake, half of Mom’s cheesecake, a piece of Daddy’s key lime pie, and the rest of my ice cream.

  He washes it all down with a large soda.

  Finally, after the bill is paid, and there is nothing left for Sabin to eat, we head back to the elevator.

  I think our whole family feels mellow — kinda like pie — soft and sweet and satisfied.

  We pile into the elevator and the door swooshes closed.

  I hit the button for the first floor. The elevator car starts its downward trip. Suddenly, however, it stops with a strange jerk. The lights in the elevator dim, but do not go out.

  “What’s up with the elevator?” Sabin asks.

  “I don’t know,” Daddy replies. “It just stopped.”

  “Is it supposed to do that?” Sadora asks.

  “No,” Mom says, a little concern in her voice. “This is the express elevator. It’s set to go from the first floor to the restaurant without stopping.”

  “Well, it stopped,” I say, stating what everybody already knows.

  “Push the button again,” Grammy suggests.

  Mom pushes all the buttons. So does Daddy. Nothing happens. The lights get fainter.

  “Well, family,” Daddy announces with a fake cheerfulness in his voice, “it looks like we’re stuck in the elevator!”

  This kind of stuff only happens in the movies. Not to real people like us. Here we are — stuck in a dingy elevator with dim lights. This can’t be happening.

  “I gotta go to the bathroom!” Sabin announces.

  “You shouldn’t have eaten like a little piggy,” I tell him.

  “Even piggies gotta pee!” Sabin replies. Sadora giggles.

  “Is there an alarm button?” Grammy asks.

  Daddy pushes the bright red button marked EMERGENCY. Nothing happens. No alarm sounds.

  “What are we gonna do?” Sabin whines.

  Suddenly the elevator lurches once more, then stops with a thud.

  “What’s going on, Daddy?” I ask. I’m starting to get a little scared.

  “I don’t know, Little Sister,” he says. “But I’m sure that emergency button is connected to an alarm, and help will come soon.”

  “What if it isn’t? What if nobody knows we’re in here?” Sadora asks frantically.

  “Well, there were still people in the restaurant, so they know the elevator isn’t coming back up like it should,” Grammy tells her reasonably.

  “Someone up there will call for help, I’m sure,” Daddy adds.

  Mom looks in her purse, then shuts it with a sigh. She asks Daddy, “Where’s your cell phone, Sam? I left mine in the car.”

  “My phone is in the car as well,” Daddy says. “Do you have yours, Sadora?”

  Now that’s a dumb question. I think Sadora sleeps with her cell phone. She sends text messages to her friends all day long, and she never turns it off.

  “How can you even think of not having your phone with you?” Sadora asks with amazement.

  “There was a time — not too long ago — when nobody carried phones, Sadora,” Grammy tells us. “Your phone was at your house, connected to a cord.” Grammy chuckles at the look on Sadora’s face.

  “How did you live back then in the olden days?” Sadora asks with a laugh. “I’d die without my phone!”

  “So, do you have it, Sadora?” Sabin says, interrupting. “I really gotta go bad!”

  “It never leaves my purse. I’ll save us.” Sadora speaks with confidence.

  She digs down into her purse, a cute little designer thing — not a cool sack like mine — and pulls out her phone. It’s pink with little pearls around the edge. I want one just like it, but Mom won’t let me have one yet.

  She flips it open, then frowns at it like it’s some kind of alien weapon. “There’s no signal,” she says. “Nothing.”

  She looks lost and confused, as if her best friend had just moved to another country.

  Grammy speaks up. “Well, if we can’t get out right away, let’s make the most of it. Let’s sit down on the floor, make ourselves comfortable, and I’ll tell stories to keep us occupied.”

  But surprisingly nobody seems to like Grammy’s idea. Everybody wants out — right away.

  “The floor is dirty,” Sadora whines. “I don’t want to get my new outfit messed up. Isn’t there another way out of here?”

  “And I really gotta go to the bathroom!” Sabin cries, hopping from one foot to the other.

  “Did you push the DOOR OPEN button, Daddy?” I ask.
br />   “I pushed all of them,” he answers, irritation in his voice. But he presses it once again.

  This time, like an animal taking a deep breath, the door slides open — just a little, and way out of whack. It shudders and stops once more, like it’s done all it can do.

  “Hooray!” Sabin cries out.

  A small opening is gaping at us. It’s really skinny, not even one foot wide. I can see the carpeted hall on the floor where the elevator has stopped.

  It’s not lined up evenly like elevators are supposed to do. But the hall is clearly out there, and a bathroom for Sabin is probably very close.

  The hallway is not brightly lit like it usually is when I visit Mom’s office. The lights are very dim.

  “Can you peek through it, Sam?” Mom asks.

  “I can see very little,” he answers. “It looks like emergency generators are lighting the hallway.”

  “Is anybody out there?” Daddy calls loudly. No one answers.

  “Hey! Help!” Sabin yells. “Where is everybody?”

  He, too, is answered only by silence.

  I reach down in my Sassy Sack and pull out a skinny little flashlight that I won at a carnival last summer. I hand it to Daddy.

  “Perfect, Sassy!” Daddy says, sounding really pleased as he takes the flashlight. “You always seem to have just the right thing down in that bag of yours.”

  I guess the stress of the situation makes him remember my name. But I don’t say anything.

  Daddy clicks on the flashlight and shines it through the hole.

  “I can see the number twenty-two on the side of the elevator door,” Daddy reports.

  “That’s my floor!” Mom says excitedly. “My office is two doors down on the left, and the security stand is just beyond that. Mr. Williams makes night rounds of every floor all night long.”

  “Let me see if I can squeeze through,” Daddy says, trying to take charge. He can only fit his arm through the opening.

  “Daddy, that opening is too small and you are way too big,” I tell him.

  “I told you to cut back on the biscuits,” Mom teases.

  “It’s not the biscuits, it’s the huge muscles,” Daddy replies with a grin, flexing his arm like those guys on bodybuilding shows. “Can you get through, Susan?” he asks Mom.

  “You’ve got me there!” Mom replies. “Even if I suck in everything, there’s no way I can fit.”

  Grammy says, “Well, it’s clear that Sadora and Sabin are too large as well. Actually, none of us is small enough to fit through that hole — no one except Sassy. She’s tiny like a little mouse.”

  “Me?” I ask. This time my voice really does come out as a squeak.

  “I’m not letting my baby risk her life!” Mom says right away. “We’ll just wait for help to arrive. It can’t be much longer.”

  Mom touches my hair gently. That makes me feel good.

  “Risk my life?” I whisper. I’m not so sure about this.

  “She might get dirty, but she’s in no danger,” my father explains.

  “Please let her try,” Sabin pleads. “I’m gonna explode.”

  “Sit down, Sabin,” Grammy suggests. “Think about sand, about a dusty, dry day.”

  Sabin sits down, but he looks real uncomfortable. His face almost begs me.

  “I can do it, Mom,” I tell her. I think I sound braver than I feel.

  “No, sweetie. I don’t want you to do this.” Mom sounds a little scared. She looks at Daddy. “What do you think, Sam?”

  “All she has to do is slip through the door like a little snake and run like a bunny to get help.”

  Why is he comparing me to forest animals?

  But he doesn’t sound sure. I like it when Daddy sounds like he knows what he’s talking about. Fathers should not sound shaky.

  “What about the door?” Mom asks. “What if it closes suddenly?”

  “She’ll be a pancake,” Sabin says.

  He can’t help teasing me, even when he’s in trouble.

  “Give me your shoes,” I tell Sabin suddenly.

  “Why?” he asks.

  “Do you want me to get help or not?” I tell him with my hand on my hip.

  “Sure I do,” he says.

  “Aren’t those steel-toed boots?” I ask Mom.

  “Yes, they are,” Mom replies. “We just bought them last week.”

  Sabin unties his boots, slips them off his feet, and hands them to me, frowning. I don’t make a joke about his stinky feet, but I could have.

  “What’s your plan, Sassy?” Grammy asks.

  “I’m going to use Sabin’s boots to make sure the door stays open,” I explain.

  I take the boots and jam them into the small opening.

  “You’re getting them all scratched up,” Sabin complains.

  “Do you see a toilet in this elevator car?” I ask him.

  Sabin gets quiet.

  Daddy says, “There is no electricity. The doors are not going to close. But the boots are a great idea, just in case.”

  “You’re a genius, Little Sister,” Sadora says with admiration in her voice.

  “I’ve been to Mom’s office a million times,” I tell them. “I’ll run down there, pick up the phone, and call nine-one-one. It should take me three minutes.”

  “Can you do it in two?” Sabin pleads. He really looks pitiful. I feel sorry for him.

  Grammy smiles at me with confidence. “You’re going to be our champion, Sassy,” she says with pride in her voice.

  “You’re pretty brave, Little Sister,” Sadora admits. “Aren’t you scared?”

  I take a deep breath. “The door can’t hurt me, and the dark can’t get me. I’m cool!”

  I don’t tell Sadora that I’m a teeny bit scared of the dark. I like the way she looks at me like I’m a big deal instead of a little nobody.

  Daddy asks me, “Are you sure, Little Sister?”

  “Sure!” I say. “Let me do this before Sabin explodes!” Everybody, except for Sabin, cracks up.

  Daddy and Mom hug me tight, and Grammy kisses me on the forehead. Daddy hands me the flashlight, and Mom gives me the key to her office.

  I’m ready. Then I decide I need to say something before I go.

  “Wait!” I tell them all.

  They all look at me in the dim light. “What’s wrong?” Mom asks.

  “Nothing’s wrong. But can I ask you guys something?”

  “What?” Sabin asks. He’s wiggling again.

  “It drives me crazy when you call me Little Sister all the time. When I get back, can you guys call me Sassy sometimes?” I look at them with hope.

  Sadora starts to laugh. “Why didn’t you say something sooner?” she asks. “I didn’t know it bothered you so much.”

  “Really?” I’m stunned. In the dim light I give her my biggest smile.

  “Is that all?” Sabin asks. “Now can we hurry this along? Thinking about sandy deserts isn’t working very well.”

  Everybody laughs again, and Daddy hugs me once more. I toss my sack through the opening first, turn myself sideways, suck in my breath, then I slip through the doorway like a puff of smoke. I fit perfectly.

  I wonder if my dress is getting dirty. It’s so dark I can’t tell.

  I look around. Everything is darker than it should be. Where are the lights? Really strange.

  “I’m okay,” I call back to them. “I’m going to Mom’s office now. Hang in there, Sabin!”

  “Hurry!” I hear him call.

  I switch on the flashlight and tiptoe down the hall toward Mom’s office. Why are all the main lights off? Only those pale generator lights that Daddy talked about are glowing. Even at night the halls of an office building should be well lit. Right?

  My heart is thudding.

  I find Mom’s office with no trouble, use my flashlight to see what I’m doing, put Mom’s key in the lock, and open the door to her office.

  I have to adjust my eyes a minute and blink. When I look out the big wid
e picture window, instead of seeing the lights of the city twinkling like they had been while we were in the restaurant, all I can see is darkness.

  “It’s like somebody has blown out all the candles!” I whisper.

  I see headlights and the red taillights of cars, but mostly the city looks like it’s been covered with a dark blanket. The biggest light is coming from the full moon and the twinkling stars.

  “What’s going on?” I wonder out loud.

  I reach for the phone on Mom’s desk and pick it up. But just like Sadora’s cell phone, the line is silent.

  “Maybe Martians have taken over the planet!” I keep talking out loud. I hope I don’t sound crazy.

  “No, that only happens in movies,” I tell myself. “So what’s causing the lights to be out?”

  There is no one around to answer me.

  “This is really spooky,” I whisper.

  I leave Mom’s office, and walk toward the security-guard stand on her floor. My little carnival flashlight doesn’t help much, but I can see okay.

  My steps seem to echo and the flashlight is making weird shadows.

  “Enough of this!” I whisper. “I want my mother.”

  Suddenly the light of a really powerful flashlight shines directly in my face. I almost scream.

  “Who’s there?” a loud voice bellows.

  I recognize his voice and sigh with relief.

  “It’s me, Mr. Williams. Sassy Sanford,” I say. “I’m Susan’s daughter, remember?”

  He probably thinks I’m really scared. He’s right.

  He takes the light out of my eyes and says gently, “Sassy? What are you doing here all alone? Where is your family?”

  “They’re trapped in the elevator!” I shout. I am so relieved I almost wet my pants.

  “Oh, my!” he says.

  “What happened to all the lights?” I demand.

  “We had a major power outage a few minutes ago,” he explains. “The whole city got blacked out. Pow! Lights out everywhere!”

  “Why?” I ask. I’m still thinking about the possibility of space invaders.

  “According to the reports I’ve been getting from my two-way radio,” he tells me, “lightning struck a couple of the major power stations.”

  “Lightning? That’s crazy.”

  “Yep. And all the rest of the power stations shut down in response. Even the cell phone towers clicked off. The system is designed to do that for safety purposes.”