Seeing Cinderella Hardcover - 2012

Summary

Excerpt

Chapter 1





Once there was a girl with hair the color of dead leaves, teeth the size of piano keys, freckles as big as polka dots, and eyes that couldnâÈçt see squat. Everyone laughed at her and called her Polka Dot. Poor Polka Dot felt like a total weirdo, and always wished a fairy godmother would appear and cut her some slack.

But that was just too darn bad, because fairy godmothers only care about beautiful girls with wicked stepmothers. So when Polka Dot spotted a fairy godmother resting on a park bench, she kept her wish simple and begged for better eyesight. Sweet naive Polka Dot, no one ever told her some fairy godmothers have ginormous attitude issues.

âÈêIâÈçm on a coffee break, kid,âÈë said the fairy godmother. âÈêGet yourself some glasses and stop pestering me.âÈë

âÈêCould you please stop writing in the car and talk to me?âÈë Mom asked, flicking the turn signal and heading into the left lane.

âÈêThereâÈçs nothing to talk about,âÈë I answered, putting the finishing touches on my new story, âÈêPolka Dot and the Cranky Fairy Godmother.âÈë âÈêI donâÈçt want glasses. People who wear glasses get made fun of.âÈë

âÈêCallie, weâÈçve been over this already. Your headaches are happening for a reason. It could be that you need glasses. A vision test wonâÈçt take that long.âÈë

âÈêYouâÈçre right, it wonâÈçt.âÈë I closed my journal and tucked it under my seat. No way was I showing up to Pacificview Middle SchoolâÈ'my new prison, as of tomorrowâÈ'with nerd-tastic glasses on my face. With my freckles and crazy-frizzy hair, it would be like painting a target on my face and handing out bows and arrows to the student body. So last night, IâÈçd come up with a planâÈ'a way to make sure I didnâÈçt get stuck wearing glasses, no matter how bad my eyesight was.

I shifted in my seat and looked at Mom. âÈêDad said I should get contacts instead of glasses.âÈë

MomâÈçs lips stretched so thin they practically disappeared. âÈêIf your father were aroundâÈ'other than via his cell phoneâÈ'maybe we could afford contacts. But heâÈçs not.âÈë

âÈêMommy, whenâÈçs Daddy coming home?âÈë Sarah, my four-year-old sister, asked from the backseat.

Usually when Mom kicked Dad out only a couple of weeks passed before they made up. But heâÈçd been gone for a month already. He was staying with a friend up in northern California until they worked things out.

âÈêMommyâÈçs not sure,âÈë Mom answered.

Sarah started singing to herself, and Mom and I were silent. These days it seemed like if we werenâÈçt fighting, we didnâÈçt have much to say to each other. Our conversations were usually limited to arguing about chores or exchanging phone messages. I thought about holding my breath until she asked me somethingâÈ'like how I was feeling about starting seventh grade, or if there were any boys I likedâÈ'but I figured IâÈçd pass out first.

Mom turned the car into a weathered strip mall. Squished between a dry cleaners and a doughnut shop was a tiny store with the word OPTOMETRIST painted in white block letters across darkened glass.

âÈêIt looks creepy. Are you sure weâÈçre in the right place?âÈë I asked as we got out of the car.

âÈêItâÈçs not creepy. And I need to pick up a few things for my classroom.âÈë Mom pointed to a teacher supply store on the other side of the dry cleaners.

Mom handed me a blank check. Then she took SarahâÈçs hand and headed toward the supply store. I stared at the optometrist sign. IâÈçd been to this strip mall a million times with Mom and never noticed an eye doctorâÈçs office before. HadnâÈçt the dry cleaners been next door to the doughnut shop? And what was up with the tinted windows?

A small bell jingled when I opened the door, and the inside was seriously weird-looking. Heavy purple drapes hung behind red velvet couches in the cramped waiting area. Beaded lamps cast shadows on the walls. A single dusty display case housed a small selection of glasses frames.

A plump woman sat behind a large wooden desk. Thick glasses hung from a beaded chain around her neck. âÈêAre you Callie Anderson?âÈë she asked, smiling.

âÈêYeah.âÈë

âÈêIâÈçm Mrs. Dillard. Dr. Ingram is running late. Why donâÈçt you pick out some framesâÈ'just in caseâÈ'and weâÈçll finish up after your exam?âÈë

I nodded and wandered over to the display case. After trying on several dorky-looking frames, I handed the least gross ones (caramel colored with rhinestones dotting the sides) to Mrs. Dillard. I tried not to think about all the weird looks IâÈçd get if my plan didnâÈçt work and I had to actually wear them.

I did not want attention. I got nervous around people about as often as a mouse got nervous around a hungry cat. I didnâÈçt know why. Neither of my parents were shy. Mom taught fifth grade; Dad said she spent her days bossing people around. And Dad sold industrial vacuums to businesses and stuff like that; Mom said he spent his days turning on the charm. So who knew where my shyness came from? Maybe I was just a genetic mutant.

âÈêCallie Anderson?âÈë a male voice asked. I turned. A man with a shiny bald head and a bushy gray beard smiled at me. He wore a white overcoat and thick black glasses. âÈêIâÈçm Dr. Ingram. I apologize for the delay.âÈë He motioned to his office. âÈêFollow me.âÈë

After I settled into the examination chair, Dr. Ingram spent the next several minutes trying to blind me by flashing a white light into my eyes and asking me to blink.

âÈêDo you like wearing glasses?âÈë I asked.

âÈêWhat, these?âÈë Dr. Ingram tugged on his thick black frames. âÈêOf course. TheyâÈçre quite useful. They help me see who merely needs eyewear and who requires vision correction.âÈë

âÈêArenâÈçt they the same thing?âÈë I asked, but Dr. Ingram didnâÈçt answer.

âÈêExcellent.âÈë Dr. Ingram switched off the light. âÈêYour eyes seem quite healthy. Now we shall check your vision.âÈë

âÈêIâÈçm ready,âÈë I said, smiling. âÈêBring it on.âÈë I might have been a C-plus student (and that plus was only because of my A in English), but I knew how to study when it really mattered. Last night, I Googled the eye chart and memorized the whole thingâÈ'from the ginormous E at the top, to the microscopic D at the bottom. Twenty-twenty vision, here I come!

Dr. Ingram flipped a switch, and a projector turned on showing rows of increasingly smaller letters. But instead of the E, there was a G at the top. As I scanned the rest of the chartâÈ'the rows I could actually see, anywayâÈ'I realized the letters were completely different from the chart I memorized.

âÈêIsnâÈçt there another chart we can use?âÈë I asked. âÈêLike maybe one that starts with an E?âÈë

âÈêDo you mean the one with an E, F, P? Followed by a T, O, and S?âÈë Dr. Ingram asked.

âÈêYeah, thatâÈçs the one. Except itâÈçs not an S, itâÈçs a T. ThereâÈçs no S on that chart.âÈë I clapped a hand over my mouth, realizing what IâÈçd just said.

âÈêYouâÈçre very observant,âÈë Dr. Ingram said, grinning. âÈêBut I think weâÈçll stick with this chart today.âÈë

âÈêOh, okay,âÈë I said, swallowing hard and wiping my sweaty palms on the leather seat.

Dr. Ingram quizzed me on the eye chart and my stomach knotted up like it always does when I take a test. And as the letters grew smaller, my answers grew unsure.

âÈêUm . . . Z?âÈë I said, squinting. âÈêNo, wait. S? No. G?âÈë

âÈêItâÈçs not a spelling bee,âÈë Dr. Ingram said kindly. âÈêThough IâÈçm sure youâÈçre quite competent in that subject. But alas, your vision is impaired. We shall have to find a suitable solution. IâÈçm afraid you require glasses.âÈë

Dr. Ingram pushed a metal machine in front of my face. He loaded it with different lenses until I could read the bottom row of letters without squinting. Then he switched off the projector, and I started to rise from the exam chair.

âÈêNot so fast. WeâÈçve only begun to check your vision. WeâÈçve still got quite a ways to go.âÈë

Dr. Ingram flipped the switch again. This time, instead of letters, I saw really funky black-and-white pictures. My dad, who liked to paint, wouldâÈçve said they were abstract.

âÈêWhatâÈçs that?âÈë I asked, pointing to a picture that looked like a spotted lump of nothing.

âÈêYou tell me,âÈë Dr. Ingram said. âÈêThereâÈçs no right or wrong answer. Tell me what you see. Better yet, tell me what that image reminds you of.âÈë

âÈêUm, okay.âÈë I wondered if there was an answer that would get me out of his office without glasses. But after thinking about it for a minute, I decided to just tell the truth. âÈêI see Charlie Ferris.âÈë

âÈêYou see Charlie Ferris?âÈë Dr. Ingram repeated, raising two bushy eyebrows.

âÈêCharlie Ferris, yeah. He used to tease me last yearâÈ'and the year before thatâÈ'and call me Polka Dot. Because, well, you know.âÈë I tapped my freckly cheek. âÈêAlmost everyone called me Polka Dot.âÈë

The next picture showed an image of what looked like a swan fighting off a dragon.

After I told that to Dr. Ingram he said, âÈêAnd what does that remind you of?âÈë

âÈêUm . . . I guess it reminds me of my best friend, Ellen Martin. SheâÈçs fearless. She wouldnâÈçt care if anyone made fun of her. Not like anyone would. SheâÈçs really pretty. And really smart.âÈë

Dr. Ingram showed me a few more pictures. The last one looked like a group of stones on one side, and a larger, solitary stone next to a square object on the other side.

âÈêI see Ellen making a bunch of friends at middle school. Then I see meâÈëâÈ'I pointed to the larger stoneâÈ'âÈêreading a book or writing a story in my journal.âÈë

âÈêDo you find that easier than making new friends?âÈë Dr. Ingram asked.

I shrugged. âÈêBooks and journals canâÈçt make fun of you or call you names.âÈë

âÈêI see.âÈë Dr. Ingram switched off the projector. âÈêI think thatâÈçs quite enough.âÈë He scribbled on a slip of paper. âÈêHere. Give this to Mrs. Dillard and sheâÈçll take care of the rest.âÈë

âÈêWhatever.âÈë I stuffed the paper into my pocket.

âÈêIs something wrong?âÈë

I stared at Dr. Ingram, and something in me snapped. IâÈçd spent all summer dealing with thoughts about middle school the same way I dealt with chores, fights between my parents, and zits: ignore them and hope theyâÈçll just go away. But now those thoughts crashed into me like a tidal wave.

I wanted to tell Dr. Ingram all the things I couldnâÈçt say to anyone else. That I missed my dad, and wished heâÈçd come home soon. That I felt nervous about starting middle schoolâÈ'especially since IâÈçd gotten stuck with drama for my elective. How I worried that, just like elementary school, Pacificview would be a place where I didnâÈçt fit. How I felt like there was some all-seeing eye fastened on meâÈ'just waiting for me to screw up so everyone could laugh at me.

I wanted to tell him those thingsâÈ'but instead I said the same thing I told Mom whenever she asked me that question.

âÈêNothingâÈçs wrong. IâÈçm fine.âÈë

Dr. Ingram peered at me through his thick black glasses and said nothing. He stayed silent for so long I thought heâÈçd fallen asleep with his eyes open.

âÈêDr. Ingram,âÈë I said. âÈêAre youâÈ'âÈë

âÈêDo you want to see?âÈë Dr. Ingram interrupted. âÈêI mean, really see.âÈë

âÈêUh, yeah,âÈë I said, confused. âÈêThatâÈçs why IâÈçm here, isnâÈçt it?âÈë Duh, I wanted to add but didnâÈçt.

âÈêWonderful. IâÈçll be right back.âÈë Dr. Ingram disappeared through the door and returned a couple minutes later holding a small black case. âÈêI spoke with Mrs. Dillard. Regrettably, there is a back order on the lenses weâÈçve selected. They should arrive in a few weeksâÈ'âÈë

âÈêThatâÈçs okay. I donâÈçt really care whenâÈ'âÈë

âÈêIn the meantime, it just so happens I have a pair with your exact prescription that you may borrow.âÈë He opened the black case and held up what had to be the ugliest glasses in the entire world. They were huge. Their thick black frames looked like theyâÈçd survive a bomb blast. Actually, they looked a lot like the frames Dr. Ingram wore.

Except he wasnâÈçt wearing them anymore, I realized. Now Dr. IngramâÈçs glasses were thin silver frames.

âÈêHey, werenâÈçt you justâÈ'âÈë

âÈêThese glasses are very valuable.âÈë Dr. Ingram interrupted, placing them back in the case. âÈêSo please be careful.âÈë

âÈêOkay,âÈë I said, thinking heâÈçd probably tell my mom if I refused. âÈêIâÈçll take them.âÈë

I grasped the case, but Dr. Ingram didnâÈçt let go.

âÈêYou realize these are just loaners? You must return them when the time is right.âÈë

âÈêWhen my other pair arrives, yes.âÈë Out in the waiting area the bell jingled, and I heard Mom ask Mrs. Dillard if I was almost finished.

âÈêYouâÈçre sure you want them?âÈë Dr. Ingram asked. âÈêYou never know what youâÈçll see when your vision is corrected.âÈë

âÈêIâÈçll take them, if youâÈçll give them to me.âÈë I looked down at his hand.

Dr. Ingram let go. âÈêUse them wisely, Callie.âÈë

âÈêOf course IâÈçll use them wisely,âÈë I said.

Whatever that meant.

Media reviews

Citations

• Hornbook Guide to Children, 07/01/2012, Page 74
• School Library Journal, 05/01/2012, Page 110
• Voice of Youth Advocates, 06/01/2012, Page 179