The next morning was Tuesday, and Muffy was not happy. Accosting C.V. on his way to Mr. Boughton's classroom, she treated the overweight owl boy to an angry tirade.

"I don't know how you and your parents can live with yourselves," she scolded. "You offered to help my friend Angela so she could keep her baby, but what you wanted all along was to take him for your own!"

Taken aback, C.V. fiddled nervously with his spectacles for a few seconds before responding. "But I've always wanted a little brother," he told the pint-sized fury before him. "My mom can't have babies anymore. And Graham is so adorable. He's what we've been looking for."

"I won't let you adopt him," Muffy growled. "He deserves a better family. A family without a big, fat, dorky twit who thinks he has super powers!"

Astonished at her insults, C.V. glowered and clenched his fists. "You'd better not make me angry," he cautioned. "You won't like me when I'm angry."

"I don't like you now," Muffy replied petulantly. "And I don't like your parents. And I'll do everything I can to keep Angela's baby out of their greedy hands!"

C.V. became flushed, and his voice rose in pitch. "I'm warning you, Muffy. Cross swords with me, and you'll regret it. I am Captain Valiant. FEAR MY POWER!"

That was the signal for Muffy to roll her eyes incredulously...but she couldn't. Nor could she explain why sheer terror had taken hold of her mind. It seemed as if her thoughts had rebelled against her, and convinced her that C.V. indeed had power, and was to be feared. It was ridiculous, but she was compelled to believe it. All she could do was whine pathetically and quake in her buckle shoes.

Grinning nonchalantly, C.V. stepped past her and continued on his way to the sixth-grade classroom. Muffy remained immobilized by terror for several more seconds, and then it began to subside. Before long she was left to reflect on the absurdity of her reaction. Surely the boy was no threat, despite being older and bigger. She had seen him in action on the soccer field--he could scarcely take five steps without becoming winded. No doubt the fear that had paralyzed her had been the result of some psychological trick.

----

Molly, having endured her punishment for poor math grades, was available to rendezvous with Binky at the Muffin Man coffee shop after school let out. The bulldog boy waited patiently at a table, clasping his fingers and humming a tune, until Molly appeared, still clad in her one red dress. Binky remained seated as the rabbit girl slid into the seat opposite him.

"Thank you for inviting me, Binky," she said flatly.

"You're welcome," was Binky's reply.

"I didn't say that with much feeling, did I?" Molly reflected. "I'm not used to being polite."

"It takes practice."

Molly reached up and flicked a strand of hair from her face. "I guess I'll have to learn to be polite. My dad wants me to behave like a proper young lady. And what my dad wants, he gets. That's one thing that hasn't changed about him."

Binky discovered that he could read Molly's emotions more effectively now that the mane in front of her eyes had been clipped. "You're afraid of him," he observed.

Molly sighed. "Yes, I am. I hope he's changed, but I'm not sure yet. If he has, then the worst he can do is take away my privileges. If he hasn't..."

A long silence descended upon the pair.

"Well?" Binky spoke up. "If he hasn't...then what?"

"Geez, you're slow," Molly grumbled. "Let's change the subject."

Mr. Holden, the old koala man who operated the coffee house, stepped up to their table. "What can I get for you young mates?" he asked in a rich Australian brogue.

"I'll have a cream cheese danish," said Binky.

"Same here," added Molly.

"Coming right up," said the koala man, who then disappeared behind the counter.

Binky and Molly sat motionlessly, drinking in each other's eyes, allowing the strong coffee smell to waft up their nostrils.

"I have to ask you a question," said Molly. "You never asked me out while my dad was in jail. But now that he's out--now that I have to look like a pretty girl to please him--you're suddenly interested in me."

The two kids became silent again.

"So what's the question?" asked Binky.

Molly sighed with frustration. "Hi, everybody, I'm Binky," she said in a low, mocking voice. "Duuuuuuh."

Binky could only stare blankly.

"The question is this," said Molly. "Did you ask me out just because I look prettier than before?"

It was a loaded question, and Binky had no idea how to begin unloading it. He stared at the napkin on the tabletop, wishing with all his might that a meteor would crash through the ceiling and leave a glowing crater in the floor.

"Uh...no," he finally answered.

"No?" repeated Molly. "Why no?"

"Because if I say yes, you won't like me."

It was a reply that deserved a harsh retort, but before Molly could come up with one, she beheld a disturbing sight from the corner of her eye.

"What's wrong?" asked Binky when he noticed his date's sudden paleness.

Molly lowered her voice. "It was Mansch. He just walked by. I saw him through the window."

"What's he doing here?" Binky whispered.

"Whatever it is, it can't be good."

Mr. Holden stopped by and placed danishes in front of Binky and Molly. Minutes passed as the pair enjoyed their desserts. There was no further sign of Mansch.

"It's like somebody flipped a switch in my brain," said Binky between bites of cheesy danish. "I always knew you were a girl, but I thought of you as a buddy, and not someone I'd ask for a date. But when I saw you with the dress and the haircut, I couldn't think that way anymore. You became more than just a girl to me." The boy spread out his hands. "You became a...a...a girl."

"That's so sweet," said Molly dreamily.

"You really think so?"

"Yeah." Molly glanced down at the half-eaten pastry in her hand. "How much sugar do they put in these things?"

----

Later in the day, Fern answered a ring of the doorbell to find Muffy standing on the Walters family's welcome mat.

"I'd like to borrow your computer skills for a little while," said Muffy as she wiped her feet and strolled into the house.

"Okay," replied Fern, pulling up a desk chair for her guest. "I was just wasting time in front of the TV."

The two girls placed themselves in front of the monitor, and Fern brought up a search engine window. "What are we looking for?"

"Dirt," answered Muffy. "I want to get the dirt on someone."

"Don't say dirt," Fern urged her. "That makes it sound bad."

"Okay." Muffy thought for a moment. "How about skeletons in the closet?"

"That's better."

"Search for the names Boyd and Cathy Oberlin," Muffy instructed Fern. "They're the parents of that dorky kid who thinks he's a superhero."

"You mean C.V." Fern smiled. "He's not so bad."

"We'll see."

They browsed for about ten minutes, and then Fern followed a link to the web page of the San Diego Fire Department.

"Says here Boyd Oberlin was a fireman in San Diego," Fern noted. "Some sort of accident happened, and he was placed on disability leave."

"Mrs. Oberlin said a tank of chemicals blew up in his face while he was fighting a fire," Muffy recounted.

"That's not what it says here. It says the accident happened at his house."

Her interest piqued, Muffy looked over the report on the web page. "Causes unknown? Hmm..."

"He was taken to a local hospital in a catatonic state," Fern read from the screen.

"Weird," mused Muffy. "So either the accident didn't happen like Mrs. Oberlin described it, or it was covered up for some reason."