Every day for the next three days, Binky and Molly met at the Muffin Man for after-school danishes. As might be expected, their conversations didn't go anywhere, but Molly tried her best to be patient with Binky's thickness. Meanwhile, Muffy fought earnestly but vainly to dissuade Angela from allowing baby Graham to be adopted, or at least from doing further business with the Oberlins.
As Friday afternoon arrived, Binky dropped in at Molly's house to bid farewell to her father, who was leaving town for a job interview in another city. His wife and daughter blessed him with their best wishes as he stood by the door, suitcase in hand.
"I hope you get it, Dad," said Molly. "We could really use a break like this."
"Good luck, dear," said Mrs. McDonald, planting a kiss on her husband's cheek.
"One last thing before I leave," Mr.McDonald advised them. "I have reason to believe Mansch is in the neighborhood. Watch out for him. Don't let him in the house, whatever you do."
"We'll be careful," Mrs.McDonald promised.
A moment later BenMcDonald was on his way. Binky and Molly were left to idle away the time in the living room, while Mrs.McDonald puttered about in the kitchen, preparing dinner.
"It's funny," Binky mused. "Your dad interviewing with a company that makes security systems."
"He knows a thing or two about security," Molly pointed out. "He's like Frank Abagnale. He's more valuable thinking of ways to thwart other crooks, than rotting behind bars."
While they sat together on the couch, Binky raised his arm and moved it behind Molly's shoulders. The rabbit girl, surprised at the apparently romantic gesture, wondered what Binky was planning.
She found out quickly enough. "Ah, there's the remote," said Binky, pulling his arm away from Molly and aiming it at the TV.
He mindlessly flipped channels for a few seconds, and then Molly suggested, "Let's not watch TV."
"Okay," Binky responded, switching off the set. "I'll go rent a movie."
"Let's not do that either," Molly recommended. "Let's just talk."
"Okay." Binky cleared his throat. "I was watching wrestling yesterday, and Slam Wilson has this cool new move called the..."
"Binky..."
Noticing the urgency in the girl's tone, Binky fell silent.
"This has been a weird week for me," Molly related. "Having to wear a dress everywhere, having to study harder, having to be nice to people instead of threatening to beat them up. I should be upset about it all, but I'm not. In fact, I feel better about myself."
"Really?" Binky grinned vapidly. "Cool."
"I feel like there's hope for the future," Molly went on. "I feel like I can get along with people, and get better grades, and be a better person."
Binky only listened, not wanting to interrupt an epiphany with a potentially stupid remark.
"I never thought much about my life," said Molly wistfully. "I always figured I'd be dead by age sixteen. But now that Dad's back--now that I have to clean up my act--I'm starting to realize that I may have a life ahead of me, like everybody else."
Noticing Binky's quietness, Molly began to suspect that he wasn't paying attention.
"Keep going," the boy said.
"I...feel different inside," Molly admitted. "I feel like there's something special about me. My mom says it's because I'm a girl. I never thought there was anything special about being a girl. I thought the difference between a boy and a girl was unimportant, like the difference between a rabbit person and an aardvark person. But now that I've spent a week dressing like a girl, and hanging out with the girls at school, I'm starting to understand that being a girl is a wonderful thing."
"Yeah, it is," said Binky thoughtfully. "I mean, if you're a girl."
"There are so many things a girl can do that a boy can't," said Molly. "Like this."
To Binky's amazement, Molly gradually leaned over and pressed her lips against his cheek.
It lasted only a second. She pulled away from the boy, blushing as if ashamed of what she had done.
Binky rubbed the moist spot on his cheek in wonder. "Omigosh, Molly," he marveled. "You just kissed me."
Molly, her heart pounding wildly, could only shake her head and stutter. "I'm...I'm..."
"Don't be embarrassed," said Binky reassuringly.
"I'm sorry," Molly choked out. "I didn't know what kissing a boy would feel like. It's really weird."
"You can kiss me again if you want," Binky offered.
At first Molly widened her eyes, as if thrilled by the prospect--but then she turned her face away from Binky.
"I need more time," she said, staring down at her knees.
----
Molly lay awake in her bed for hours, dwelling on the bizarre sensation she had experienced earlier in the day. She couldn't help but want to feel it again, yet it frightened her. One brief kiss had shown her how meaningless her life had been to that point. As a Tough Customer, she was feared by all and needed no one. But now she desired with all her heart to fling herself into Binky's arms, to embrace him, kiss him, become one with him. To deny everything she had known before...
She groaned and rolled over. This is getting really cheesy, she thought. I need to get some sleep.
She laid still for a few more minutes. Not a hint of drowsiness.
Her sensitive rabbit ears detected a faint creaking noise.
The sound faded out as quickly as it had begun, but Molly became convinced that someone was walking about in the house. The only other person in the dwelling was her mother, who wasn't known for creeping out of bed during the wee hours of the morning. Too tired to consider the possibilities, she told herself it was the wind, and dozed off.
----
It was Saturday morning, but Molly could think of nothing but stealing a few more hours of quality mattress time. Even her guilty fantasies about Binky didn't interest her as much as good old sleep. The stack of syrup-drenched pancakes on the plate in front of her disappeared slowly as she picked at it.
Her mother answered a knock at the door, and in a moment Binky was standing at the other end of the breakfast table.
"Hey, Molly," he greeted her. "Check this out."
He dropped a sheet of newspaper in front of the girl. Lazily scanning it with her weary eyes, she made out the headline, DIAMONDS STOLEN FROM MUSEUM.
"It sounds like something your dad might have done before he went straight," remarked Binky as he pulled out a chair for himself.
"Three diamond necklaces from the private collection of billionaire Tristan Tucker were stolen Friday night from an exhibition at the Katzenellenbogan Museum of Natural History," Molly muttered. She casually stuffed a pancake segment into her mouth. "Well, it wasn't my dad. He's out of town. Maybe Mansch did it."
"You think?"
"He's a master thief," said Molly. "The police know it, but they don't have enough evidence to build a case against him."
While Binky's attention was drawn to a small article about a local beekeeper, Molly thought back to her hours of sleeplessness and the creaking sound that had reached her ears. "No, don't even think that," she sternly told herself.
"Whoa," Binky marveled. "I didn't know bees made honey in a solid form."
Then another thought struck Molly--the improbability that a security company would invite her father to an interview so soon after his parole.
Her suspicions became more and more unsettling. She had to look...if only to set her mind at ease...
"Excuse me a minute," she said quietly, rising from the table. Noticing the girl's troubled demeanor, Binky stood up and followed her.
Molly led him to the back of the house, into a dingy room containing old power tools, car parts, and other bits of junk. Examining the floor, she remarked, "It looks like someone swept up all the dust."
"Maybe it was your mom," Binky theorized.
Molly bent down and pushed aside the knick-knacks littering a certain spot by the wall. Her voice quivering with anxiety, she said, "My dad has a secret compartment. Before he went to jail, he always said he would kill us if we looked inside."
"What's in it?" asked Binky with concern.
"I figured he put the stuff he stole in it." Exerting a bit of force, Molly pushed aside a panel to reveal a crude wooden door with a knob attached to the middle.
"Oh, man," said Binky, crouching to Molly's level. "You don't suppose..."
Cautiously opening the once-hidden door, Molly gasped at the sight of a small, narrow metal box laid within the plywood-lined space. She drew it out, all the while muttering, "Please, no...please, no..."
Binky held his breath in astonishment as Molly cradled the box in one hand and unlatched and opened it with the other.
She stifled an anguished scream.
Inside of the box lay a glittering diamond necklace.
