Several awkward reunions took place in Elwood City that afternoon.
The first thing Mrs. Read noticed when Arthur and D.W. walked into the house was D.W.'s long, long face. "What's the matter, honey?" she inquired. "And where have you been all day?"
"At Grandma Thora's," Arthur lied.
"Greta's dead," D.W. moaned.
"Uh, Greta is the name of Grandma Thora's clownfish," Arthur lied again.
"I didn't know Thora had a clownfish," said Mrs. Read.
"She bought him yesterday," Arthur continued to lie.
"Him?" marveled his mother. "You said the fish's name was Greta."
"Uh, he was female when she bought him," said Arthur.
"That's a good story," said Mrs. Read, hands on hips, "but it's not the truth."
"We saved Alan from a fate worse than death, we watched a building blow up, and we were carried away by a tornado," said Arthur.
"I'm still waiting," said his mother sternly.
Arthur sighed and looked at the floor. "We went to the junkyard, tried to make a fortress with some old chunks of plywood, got lost, and had to ask a policeman to show us the way home."
"I've told you again and again to stay away from the junkyard," Mrs. Read scolded them. "Now go to your rooms, both of you."
Arthur felt oddly relieved as he climbed the staircase to his bedroom. Once inside, he threw himself backwards onto the bed and proceeded to take a nap with his glasses on.
D.W., having closed the door to her room, sank to her knees in front of the bed and started to weep. "Oh, Greta…I miss you so much…"
Francine, figuring that waiting another hour to go home wouldn't kill her parents from worry, took horn in hand and marched down the steps to Augusta Winslow's first-floor apartment. She rang the doorbell, waited half a minute, and saw a rabbit woman with red, soggy eyes in the doorway.
"Your mother's been looking for you," said Augusta in a trembling voice.
"Omigosh," Francine exclaimed. "You've been crying. What's wrong?"
Augusta held back tears as she gestured for the girl to enter. "I can't believe I was so foolish," she said miserably, wiping her nose with a handkerchief. "I wish I could go back in time and stop myself."
Afraid that Augusta might grab the unicorn horn and do something rash, Francine cautiously slipped it into her back pocket.
"What did you do that was so bad?" she asked the distraught woman.
"I took the love potion this morning," replied Augusta, patting the tears from her cheeks. "I fell head over heels for Bailey, but he didn't return my love. He treated me like a dog! You should have heard the things he called me!"
"Like what?"
"Let's just say, he referred to a certain line of work."
Knowing nothing better to do, Francine put her arms around Augusta's slender waist and rested her head against the woman's belly.
"Being a woman isn't worse than being a man," said Augusta plaintively, "but being a woman with a broken heart is worse than anything." Francine felt a drop of water fall onto her scalp. "How I wish I could forget my love for him. How I wish I were dead."
Francine grimaced.
"What's that you have in your pocket?" asked Augusta, curiously fondling the exposed point of the unicorn horn.
"Uh, I really need to go," said Francine, hastily backing away. "I'll come back later."
Alan's reunion with his parents was the most awkward of all.
"Mom, Dad, I'm sorry for running away," he said meekly.
"That's all right, Alan," said Mr. Powers. "I suppose we should punish you, but we don't know which punishments are effective in your case."
"I don't know how we lost our memories of you," said Mrs. Powers sweetly. "But there's nothing to stop us from making some new memories."
"Yeah," said Alan, grinning. "By the way, there's this movie I've wanted to see for a long time, but you keep telling me no."
Mrs. Powers turned to her husband. "Are we really that strict?" she wondered.
"There's one matter we should attend to first," said Mr. Powers seriously. "Your sister, Tegan—do you know where she is?"
Alan lowered his face. "I…I last saw her at Springfield Tech at about noon, near where the building blew up. She was injured. I think she's in a coma."
His parents gaped at the news.
"I imagine they took her to a hospital," Alan went on.
"Please, God, let her be in Shelbyville," his father muttered.
The moment Mrs. Walters' minivan pulled into the garage, Buster came running to greet it. "Fern, you're back!" he cried to the poodle girl as she was disembarking. "I was afraid something had happened to you!"
"Hi, Buster," said Fern sheepishly.
The rabbit boy lunged forward to plant a kiss on her lips. She stepped away, her eyes widening.
"What's the matter?" Buster asked her.
Fern didn't speak. Dozens of conflicting emotions paraded through her Tegan-free mind.
"It's my breath, isn't it?" said Buster with concern. "Sorry about that. You know I can't eat just one anchovy."
He started to walk away, but a girl's quivering voice called him back. "Buster…"
The instant he turned around, Fern flew into his arms and pressed her lips to his.
After Arthur was released from his room, he met up with Francine, who was on her way to the Cooper home.
"You'll attract a lot of attention if you do this," he warned the girl.
"I hate to think that Greta died for nothing," said Francine somberly. "At least three people's lives are gonna be better because of her sacrifice."
"Sacrifice?" said Arthur, puzzled. "When did her death turn into a sacrifice?"
"Hey, your people did the same thing with Jesus," was Francine's response.
Most of the Coopers were in the house lounging about when Arthur and Francine arrived. "Hey, Van!" called Odette, who was knitting a baby sweater for Megan. "Your friends from school are here."
The duck boy turned his face away from the TV. "Hey, guys," he said pleasantly. "Have you seen the news? A building blew up at Springfield Tech. The police are calling it a terrorist act."
"That's what we call it too," said Arthur.
Francine held the shining unicorn horn in front of Van's face. "What's that thing?" the boy inquired.
"A friend left it with me before she died," Francine replied. "It has magical wishing powers."
"If you could have any wish," Arthur asked Van, "what would it be?"
The boy in the wheelchair began to think. "Hmm…I have pretty much everything I need. Although it'd be nice if I didn't get sick so often. Or if I had a bigger beak. The beak I have sorta makes me look like a girl."
"I have an idea," said Francine with a smile. "What if you could walk?"
Van grinned. "That would be so awesome."
"Here, then," said Francine, passing him the horn. "Hold it up and make the wish."
As he slowly lifted the unicorn horn above his head, Van narrowed his eyes and scowled slightly. "Walking's for chumps," he declared, and then his lips curled upward. "I wish I could fly!"
to be continued
