The door to the Read guest bedroom was closed. Inside, Arthur sat on the edge of the bed, clutching Sue Ellen's diary, deliberating whether to open it or not.
"I shouldn't do this," he told himself. "She'll kill me if she finds out. But what if D.W. is right?"
At that moment D.W. was in the back seat with Sue Ellen as Mrs. Read drove them toward the bakery "What do you want to get at the bakery?" D.W. asked the other girl.
"I like jelly donuts," Sue Ellen answered. "What about you?"
"I go for the bear claws. They're really good."
Mrs. Read looked at her reflection in the rear-view mirror. "My hair's a mess," she remarked. "Sue Ellen, would you please go through my purse and find my hairbrush?"
"Okay, Mrs. Read."
It took Sue Ellen only a second to find the hairbrush among the various items in Mrs. Read's purse. When she pulled it out, however, it dragged several folded sheets of paper with it. After she handed the brush to Mrs. Read, she curiously unfolded one of the papers. On it were scrawled an ornate heart shape and the words, 'I love you Arthur. D.W.'
Sue Ellen smiled delightedly. "This is so cute," she gushed. "Did you draw this?"
"Yeah," said D.W.
"I like your handwriting," said Sue Ellen. "Maybe you can't read yet, but you sure can..."
A startling realization struck her like a ton of bricks. She scowled suspiciously.
"D.W., are you sure you didn't read anything in my diary?" she whispered gruffly.
"I can't read," D.W. whispered back.
"Tell me the truth," Sue Ellen demanded.
A few minutes passed, and Arthur still hadn't opened the diary or moved from his spot on the bed. "What if I find something really embarrassing in here?" he worried. "What if I can't look at her anymore without laughing?"
Then, to his horror, the door burst open. Sue Ellen stood before him, her face a mask of fury.
He swallowed. He was sure it would be his last swallow.
"I know this looks bad," he said weakly.
"Not as bad as you're gonna look," Sue Ellen snarled.
With that, she snatched the diary from Arthur's hands and laid it on the bookshelf. Then she carefully plucked the boy's glasses from his face and placed them next to the diary.
Then she drew back a fist...
Just as Arthur was bracing himself for the pain, D.W. jumped between him and Sue Ellen. "Don't hurt Arthur!" she pleaded. "It's my fault!"
Surprised and angry, Sue Ellen lowered her fist.
"I shouldn't have told him," said D.W. contritely. "I'm sorry."
"Get out," Sue Ellen ordered her.
"But you'll beat up Arthur!" D.W. insisted.
"I promise I won't hurt him."
Once D.W. had left the room, Sue Ellen closed the door and turned to confront Arthur. "How much did you read?" she demanded.
"I didn't open it."
"Liar!"
"It's the truth, honest! I picked it up, I sat here for what must have been ten minutes, but I couldn't bring myself to open it."
"I don't believe you!" Sue Ellen barked.
Arthur sighed. "Then I guess you'll have to kill me."
Sue Ellen stood motionlessly and glared at the boy until her anger began to subside.
"I'm really sorry," said Arthur. "I only wanted to find out if D.W. was telling the truth about...you know..."
"I'm not in love with you," Sue Ellen blurted out.
Relief warmed Arthur's heart.
"If D.W. read anything that made her think I was in love with you, it was just fantasy nonsense. Not everything I write is meant to be taken seriously."
Arthur didn't answer, but merely lowered his eyes.
Still indignant, Sue Ellen turned about and left the room. Arthur sat still, pondering what he had nearly done and the damage it might have caused. He hardly noticed that someone had rung the doorbell.
A minute later, Sue Ellen stuck her head into the room. "Francine's here with her drums," she announced.
Pal remained in a cage at the Elwood Animal Shelter until morning.
At the entrance to the cat pound, an animal control officer sat at a desk, reading an issue of Cat Fancier magazine. To his belt was attached a large set of keys.
Hearing a sudden noise, he looked up to see four dogs coming up to him. Seeing animals was hardly an uncommon occurrence in his line of work, but these particular dogs were unaccompanied by any human, and were walking alongside each other as if united by a common purpose. It was eerie.
One of the dogs was a female Irish setter, one a male pit bull, one a female greyhound, and one a male Shih Tzu with a canine wheelchair attached to his hind quarters.
Knowing of nothing else to say, the officer told them, "Sorry, only cats allowed here."
Suddenly the Shih Tzu's eyes started to glow. The officer heard a soothing voice inside his head, saying, "You are becoming very sleepy." And become sleepy he did. He tried to resist the drowsiness that had come upon him, but his eyelids drooped against his will, and he fell fast asleep.
The greyhound shot beams of mental energy from her eyes at the keychain on the officer's belt, telekinetically sorting through the keys until she found one that would open the door to the cat pound.
Pal, still a cat, lay asleep in one of the cages. A female voice called to him, arousing him. "Pal? Wake up, Pal."
"Huh?" said Pal groggily. "Who's there? Arthur?"
Through his weary eyes he made out the blurred image of an Irish setter's face. He blinked, and the Irish setter had been replaced by a pit bull. Pal stretched and rose to his paws.
"Are you Pal?" asked the pit bull in a gruff voice.
"Yes," replied the dog/cat. "Who are you?"
"I'm Wolfie," said the rough-looking dog. "Stand back."
Then the pit bull extended his claws into foot-long, razor-sharp blades. With one swipe of his paw, he shredded the wires on the front of Pal's cage.
"What're you waitin' for, bub?" asked Wolfie as Pal blinked unbelievingly.
Summoning courage, he leaped through the ruined cage wall and onto the floor. There he was met by an odd-looking quartet of dogs. Since he was now a cat, this appeared to be a dire situation indeed.
"You got nothin' to be afraid of," the pit bull assured him. "We're your friends. Kate sent for us."
At the sound of the baby's name, Pal's fears were erased.
"This here's Rascal," said Wolfie, gesturing toward the Irish setter.
"Hey, sugah," said the setter in a sweet voice.
"This is Jean Greyhound." Wolfie nodded at the female greyhound.
"Pleased to meet you," said Jean.
Wolfie pointed at the Shih Tzu with his paw. "And this is The Professor."
"We're here to help you," Pal heard a voice speak in his mind.
"We're the X-Pets," said Wolfie. "You may have heard of us."
"I have," Pal acknowledged. "But I thought you were a legend."
"We are a legend, bub," was Wolfie's response. "But we're also real."
"I'm glad you're here," said Pal. "Nemo has invented a device that..."
"...turns dogs into cats," the Professor spoke to his mind. "Kate told us all about it."
"But how did you find me?" Pal asked. "How did you recognize me?"
"We'll explain on the road," said Jean Greyhound.
Moments later, Pal was strolling freely down the sidewalk, accompanied by the four dogs. Seeing Alan riding a bicycle towards them, Rascal started to approach the boy while Pal and the other dogs stood to one side.
The sight of a friendly-looking Irish setter prompted Alan to stop and stretch out his hand. "Good doggie," he said with a grin.
The boy petted Rascal, who in turn licked his hand. His display of affection complete, Alan resumed his bike ride.
"Big deal," said Pal as Rascal rejoined her friends. "Any dog can do that."
"True," said Rascal, "but can any dog do this?"
To Pal's amazement, she began to speak in Alan's voice. "The sum of the squares of the sides of a right triangle is equal to the square of the hypotenuse. The speed of light is 186,282 miles per second, and is the same to all observers moving at constant velocity. The sun is 93 million miles from the Earth. Guglielmo Marconi was the inventor of the radio..."
"Incredible! How did you do that?"
Rascal spoke in her own voice again. "I absorbed his knowledge and personality when I licked his hand. That's how I was able to recognize you at the pound-because I licked Kate."
Looking down the sidewalk, Pal saw Francine and Beat coming closer, chatting idly. "It's Nemo's human!" he exclaimed.
"On her way to school, no doubt," said Jean Greyhound.
"What do we do?" asked Pal urgently.
"Nothing at the moment," intoned The Professor's telepathic voice. "We'll wait until she goes home, and then we will strike!"
During morning recess, Francine and Fern sat together at a picnic table near the playground. "Mrs. Stiles has been gone for over two weeks now," Francine reflected. "I wonder what happened to her."
"Your guess is as good as mine," said Fern.
"How are the 'Sound of Music' rehearsals going?"
"Just fine. I know my part, more or less. We open in two more weeks."
Arthur, Sue Ellen, and Alan joined them at the table. "You played some good soccer today, Francine," said Arthur.
"Yeah," said Francine, "but Beat's better."
"That's to be expected," said Alan. "She's from England."
"I picked up some sheet music by Thelonius Monk," said Sue Ellen.
"I hope it's not too advanced," said Arthur.
Then Muffy arrived at their table them with a folder full of papers in her hands. "I drew up a business plan, everyone. Want to see it?"
"No offense, Muffy," said Francine, "but you're not the only candidate for the position of manager."
Muffy's jaw fell. "Who else are you considering?"
His timing impeccable, Van rolled up to the table in his wheelchair. "Hey, guys."
"Van?" said the surprised Muffy. "You're considering Van for manager?"
"Yup," said Arthur.
"He knows a lot about the local jazz scene," said Sue Ellen.
"Well, I happen to know a thing or two myself," said Muffy haughtily. "In fact, my father is personally acquainted with the great John Coltrane."
"John Coltrane's dead," Van informed her.
Muffy became astonished. "What? Why wasn't I told?"
"He died in 1967, Muffy. What do you have in the folder?"
"It's my business plan." Muffy pulled from her folder a sheet covered in lists and pie charts. "First we record an album of standards. Once it goes platinum..."
"You've gotta be kidding," Van groaned.
"Don't interrupt me," said Muffy. "It's rude."
"That's not realistic at all. We're fourth-graders. We need to start small and work our way up."
Muffy scowled at the duck boy. "So what's your plan, know-it-all?"
"We start playing at the local jazz clubs. Once we get a following, we book one of the concert halls at the university..."
"By that time my children will be managing jazz quartets," Muffy complained. "Do you want to be rich and famous or not?"
"To be honest, I really don't care. I just like music."
"You mean you actually listen to the stuff?"
"I don't see why we can't have two managers," said Van. "Muffy and I can work together."
"I don't have a problem with that," said Arthur.
"After practice today," Van suggested to Muffy, "you can come to my place, and we can compare our business plans in more detail."
"Are you sure it's all right?" Muffy worried. "I mean, my dad and your dad aren't exactly the best of friends."
"It'll be fine," said Van.
"Did we ever decide on a name for ourselves?" Alan asked the others.
"It was Sue Ellen's idea," Arthur noted, "so I think we should name it after her."
"How about the Sue E. Armstrong Quartet?" Van suggested.
"Why?" said Sue Ellen.
"Because it rhymes with Louis Armstrong."
"I like it," said Francine.
The first rehearsal of the newly christened Sue E. Armstrong Quartet-Sue Ellen on saxophone, Arthur on piano, Alan on bass, and Francine on drums—took place after school that day at Arthur's house. Muffy, Van, and Fern sat nearby, enjoying the lively music. When the number was finished, Sue Ellen sat down and Fern stood up. The ensemble started playing a Gershwin song, with Fern as the vocal lead.
The way you wear your hat,
The way you sip your tea,
The memory of all that,
No, no, they can't take that away from me...
Meanwhile, Pal and the X-Pets watched and listened in front of the house.
"Nemo's human likes to come to my house and make strange noises with the other kids," Pal explained to his super-powered friends.
"Strange noises?" The Professor spoke to his brain. "That, my friend, is Gershwin."
"Gersh-what?"
They waited until the rehearsal ended, then tailed Francine as she walked back to her apartment building. They kept a safe distance to avoid being noticed by her.
Nemo rubbed against Francine's ankles as she picked up the phone and dialed Beat's number. "Hullo?" said Beat.
"It's Francine."
"What can I do for you, Frankie?"
"You played some pretty serious football...er, soccer today."
"Thanks."
"Do you think you can teach me how to do that?"
"Do what?"
"You know, kick the ball so that it curves."
"You mean bend it."
"Whatever."
"Yes, I can teach you."
Before Beat could propose a date and time, Francine heard a clicking sound. "Can you hold on a minute? There's a call on the other line."
She pushed the button on the receiver to tune in to the other call, and the voice of The Professor spoke to her.
"Why don't you pass the time by playing a little Virtual Goose?"
Suddenly Francine fell into a deep hypnotic trance. Slowly and robotically, she replaced the phone on its hook and trudged out of the apartment.
"How very odd," thought Nemo when he observed this behavior.
A minute later, the mesmerized Francine opened the door of the apartment building to allow Pal and the X-Pets inside. Rascal paused to lick Francine's hand as she and the other dogs passed by.
"Astonishing," mused The Professor. "It's been a year since I hypnotized her, and the same trigger phrase still works."
In no time at all, Pal and his canine friends had ascended the stairway and hidden themselves by the still-open door to Francine's apartment.
"Be careful," Jean Greyhound warned the others. "Magnemo could be anywhere."
"I'm not sensing him nearby," said The Professor.
At that moment Nemo was in his laboratory, using his magnetic eye beams to manipulate some tools. The sound of Francine's voice suddenly broke his concentration, and the tools plunged to the ground.
"Nemo! Here, kitty kitty! Time for din-din!"
"How can I get any work done when she's always feeding me?" the evil cat grumbled.
He quickly scurried through the corridor leading into Francine's apartment, but when he looked out from behind the refrigerator, he saw no one in the kitchen. "Where is that girl?" he wondered.
"Kitty kitty kitty," called Francine's voice from behind a corner.
The unsuspecting cat followed the voice and rounded the corner, only to see a large, rough tongue that pressed against and moistened his face.
"YOU!" he roared furiously.
All four of the heroic dogs stood before him, poised to spring into action. "Who were you expecting, Lassie?" Rascal quipped.
Seeing no hope unless he returned to his laboratory, Nemo raced around the corner and into the kitchen. Rascal, however, fired magnetic beams from her eyes and shifted the refrigerator so that it blocked the entrance to the lab. "Curses!" the cat bellowed.
The X-Pets strolled up to him, Rascal at the fore. "It's no use, sugah. I have your powers, and all your knowledge. Face it...you're licked."
Nemo groaned. "If I have to hear that stupid line one more time..."
"The lab entrance is behind the refrigerator," Rascal told the others. "Pal, Professor, Wolfie, you're the only ones small enough to pass. Once you turn Pal back into a dog, destroy everything."
"With pleasure," said Wolfie, extending his razor claws.
"This isn't over!" shouted Nemo. "I shall have my revenge!"
"Bad kitty," Jean Greyhound scolded him.
Upon hearing the doorbell ring, Van rolled his chair to the wall and pressed a button. The door automatically swung open, revealing the presence of Muffy Crosswire. Behind her on the street sat a stretch limousine, where Muffy's dutiful chauffeur Bailey sat patiently.
"Come in, Muffy," said Van.
Quinn and Mr. Cooper, seated at the kitchen table, looked quite displeased when they saw the girl. "Is that who I think it is?" Quinn wondered.
"Hi," said Muffy a bit anxiously. "I'm Muffy Crosswire."
"I know who you are," said Mr. Cooper flatly. "Make yourself comfortable."
"Your family's rude," Muffy whispered to Van.
The pair went into Van's room, closed the door, and started to compare the merits of their plans for the jazz quartet. "I hate to say it," said Muffy, "but your idea is the slowest way to get rich I've ever heard."
"It's not a plan to get rich," Van pointed out. "It's a plan to make music. If I wanted to get rich, I'd manage some stupid boy band."
"But everyone wants to be rich," Muffy opinionated.
"We'd be rich if not for my accident," Van reflected. "My dad's a pretty good lawyer. But I don't care. Poverty builds character."
The discussion between Muffy and Van went on for about half an hour, and became more earnest as it proceeded.
"When I look back," said Muffy, "I guess my plan was pretty stupid after all."
"There's nothing wrong with having big goals," said Van.
"Maybe you should be manager instead of me," Muffy suggested.
Van grinned. "You could always be fashion consultant."
"I'd better go," said Muffy, checking her watch.
Mrs. Cooper had joined her husband and Quinn at the kitchen table by the time Muffy and Van emerged from the room. "Care to stay for a minute, Muffy?" she offered. "We've got an extra apple pie."
"Sure," said Muffy eagerly.
"I have a better idea, Mom," Quinn suggested. "Let's donate the pie to the poor."
"Shut up, Quinn," Van barked.
Quinn glared at her brother. "What did you say?"
"Muffy's my friend," said Van with firmness. "I don't like it when you insult her."
"Do you even know who her father is?" said Quinn with a hint of disgust.
"I forgot," Van joked. "Remind me again."
"You people are so rude," said Muffy. "You've got nothing on my father. He's a respectable businessman."
"I intend to prove otherwise," said Mr. Cooper calmly. "I hope the evidence I gather will be enough to convince even you."
"Hmph!" Muffy grunted. "I don't have to listen to this. I'm leaving."
"Don't let the door hit you in the wallet on the way out," said Quinn.
"Sorry about this," Van said to Muffy.
As he watched the girl depart the house, Mr. Cooper remarked, "The bad apple didn't fall far from the tree."
The next morning, Pal was telling Kate about his ordeal as a cat and his rescue by the X-Pets. "How did it feel to be a cat?" the baby asked him.
"It was frightening at first," Pal admitted. "But after a while it felt...liberating."
He barked and ran from the room when D.W. and Nadine entered.
"I'm ready to tell you my secret," said Nadine after she had closed the door. "But first I want to ask you something."
"What?"
Nadine glanced about suspiciously. "How did you make your imaginary friend go away?"
"It was easy," D.W. boasted.
"It was?" Nadine marveled. "Did she threaten you?"
"No."
"Did she try to hurt you?"
"No. How could she hurt me? She was imaginary."
"Did she know any words you didn't know?"
"No."
"You just made her disappear?"
"Yeah."
Nadine became lost in thought. "So what's the secret?" D.W. asked her.
"Pickles is evil," Nadine whispered.
D.W. gasped.
"She was good when I made her up a year ago," Nadine explained. "But then my dad started hitting my mom, and Pickles started talking about an invasion, and taking over the world, and some place called Spiritus Mundi, where I guess she lives. She told me if I didn't help her take over the world, she would hurt me and my mom and my friends. So I helped her. But I don't want to help her anymore." Her voice quivered. "I want her to go away."
"I'll show you a trick my mom taught me," D.W. offered.
He waited until no one else was around, and then Van made a phone call.
"Does that mean Beat Simon can't visit me either?" the troubled Muffy asked her father.
"She knows well enough to keep her opinions to herself," Mr. Crosswire observed. "That's more than I can say for that rotten lawyer and his kids."
As Muffy was about to reply, her cell phone rang. "Hello?"
"Hi, Muffy. It's Van."
Muffy cast a worried look at her father.
"Oh, er, hi, Arthur," she said into the cell phone.
"This isn't Arth...uh, I mean, yeah, this is Arthur."
"What's up?"
"My dad doesn't want you to come here anymore. We'll have to go somewhere else."
"Same situation here," said Muffy. "Hey, I know. We'll go to Arthur's...I mean, we'll go to your place."
"Sounds good," said Van. "See you there...I mean, here."
Before long, Arthur and Muffy were at the Read house, awaiting Van's arrival. They saw the duck boy in his wheelchair rolling around the side of the house to the back door, which was level with the ground. Muffy opened the back door to let him in. "Glad you could make it," she said.
"You two can talk about the managerial stuff in the guest bedroom," Arthur told them. "Sue Ellen went home, so it's available."
They sealed themselves in the guest room, Muffy on the bed, Van in his chair. "I had no idea my dad hated your dad so much," said Muffy. "When I asked him if you could visit, he said, 'No child of that lunatic Mel Cooper will set foot in my house,' or something to that effect."
"Technically, I wouldn't be setting foot in his house," Van pointed out. "I'm in a wheelchair."
Muffy giggled.
"My dad says he doesn't want you to come back until you can accept the fact that your father's a crook," said Van.
"How rude," Muffy grumbled. "I just don't understand how grownups can hate each other like that."
"Money," said Van without hesitation.
"Money?"
"Yeah. If your dad loses the lawsuit, he'll have to go out of business. Millions of dollars are at stake. On the other hand, when two kids fight, it's usually about something small, like a few dollars, and the next day they forget about it."
"So what does your dad gain if he wins?" Muffy asked.
"He'd have an easier time paying my medical bills," said Van, "but not much else. I'm not sure why he hates your dad."
"I don't hate you," said Muffy.
"I don't hate you either," said Van.
They remained in the room for about an hour before coming out.
Arthur looked away from the TV at them. "How about it? Did you come up with a business plan?"
"Business plan? Omigosh!" exclaimed Muffy.
"We were so busy talking about other things," said Van.
"I guess we'll have to come back later," said Muffy.
"How about this afternoon at four?" Van suggested.
"Okay," said Muffy. "I need to get home before my parents start worrying."
When Muffy reached the mansion, she found her parents hanging a print of Dali's The Persistence of Memory, on the wall. "Nope, still crooked," said Mr. Crosswire as he analyzed it.
"Hi, Muffin," said Mrs. Crosswire to her daughter.
"I've been thinking, Dad," said Muffy seriously.
"About what?"
"About Mr. Cooper, the lawyer."
Mr. Crosswire's tone became dark. "What about him?"
"Do you really think he's only in it for the money?"
"Of course he is. He's a lawyer. And a no-good, lying, corrupt one at that."
"Do you have any idea how high Van's medical bills are?" Muffy asked him.
"Why should I care?" he replied coldly.
In the distance, they heard the cry of Muffy's baby brother Tyson. "I'll get that," said Mrs. Crosswire, exiting the room.
"And look at how many kids he has to support," Muffy went on. "He's not getting rich by suing people. He doesn't have a nice house or fancy stuff like we have."
"That's not my fault," said Mr. Crosswire indifferently.
"I was thinking...maybe he's just a man who loves his family."
Muffy had never seen her father scowl so angrily before.
"You don't know him. You don't have to deal with him. He's utterly ruthless."
"But maybe you have to be ruthless to survive as a lawyer," Muffy pondered. "Maybe it's just part of the job. Isn't that how it is when you sell cars?"
"No, that's not how it is!" Mr. Crosswire snapped.
Fearing to incite her father more, Muffy walked off to her room, downcast.
She was still feeling depressed on Monday morning as she rode to school in her chauffeured limo.
"Pull the car over, please," she ordered.
"Yes, Miss Muffy," said Bailey, pulling the car over to the curb.
"I think I'll walk the rest of the way, thank you," said Muffy as she hopped out.
Bailey watched her go with a puzzled expression. As far as he could remember, she had never asked to walk the rest of the way to school before. For that matter, she had never said 'please' before, either.
Morning recess found Muffy sitting on the grass under a tree, with Van next to her in his wheelchair.
"My dad told me to watch myself around you," said Van. "He's afraid you'll corrupt me with your crass materialism."
"That won't happen," said Muffy. "We both know you're incorruptible."
"You look sad today," Van remarked.
"It's just something that happened this weekend," said Muffy glumly.
"Care to tell me about it?"
"I don't know if I should."
A few moments passed in silence, and Muffy began to relate her tale.
"The other day I was talking to my dad. He was saying bad things about your dad, and I was trying to defend him. And suddenly, for the first time in my life, I had a doubt."
"About what?"
Muffy looked as if it hurt her to speak.
"About whether my dad was really honest."
Van shot Muffy an astonished look.
"I don't think I could live with myself if I found out my dad's crooked," Muffy mourned.
"What makes you think your dad may be dishonest?"
"Look at all the stuff we have," said Muffy, waving her hands. "A fancy house. Fashionable clothes. A swimming pool. I go to school in a chauffeured limo. I don't need all this. Other kids get along fine without it."
"But there's nothing wrong with having those things."
"Are you sure? He could lower the prices on all his cars, and people would love him, and we wouldn't have all the fancy stuff we have now, but we would still be happy."
"Gosh, Muffy, you're starting to sound like me," Van marveled.
"That must be it," said Muffy. "I've been spending too much time with you. It's warping my mind. Changing my philosophy of life. But you know what the funny thing is? I want to spend MORE time with you."
"Is this love?" Van wondered.
"Don't be silly."
Muffy and Van met again at Arthur's house after school. "This time we really should draw up a business plan," Muffy recommended.
"Yes," said Van, "and after that we can start planning Buster's going-away party."
"Omigosh!" Muffy exclaimed. "I forgot all about that!"
While they retired to the guest bedroom, the anxious-looking Nadine stepped into the upstairs bathroom and closed the door. Pickles the Pomeranian materialized in a flash of light next to her, and scowled furiously.
"You told the girl our secrets!" she ranted. "You'll be punished for this!"
"I'm not afraid of you," said Nadine, gathering her courage. "You're not real."
"I may not be real now," snarled the little pom girl, "but soon I will be, and then you will feel my wrath-you, and all those you love!"
"I won't help you take over the world!" Nadine shouted. "You're evil!"
"I don't need your help," said Pickles. "I'll find someone else who will serve me faithfully."
Then Nadine covered her eyes with her hands. "Nobody's there! Nobody's there! I open my eyes and nobody's there!"
"NOOOOO..."
When Nadine opened her eyes, not a trace remained of the evil Pomeranian.
Muffy walked from school to the mansion on Wednesday afternoon. When she entered, she found that both of her parents were present, and their were very displeased.
"Hi, Mom," she said anxiously. "Hi, Dad."
"We need to talk," said Mrs. Crosswire firmly.
"Can it wait?" asked Muffy.
"No."
The three seated themselves on their lavish furniture.
"Why haven't you been taking the limo?" Mr. Crosswire demanded.
Muffy squirmed. "Uh, well, I need the exercise, and I like to walk, and...well, quite frankly, I don't see why I should go around in a limo when the other kids don't."
"We pay Bailey good money to take you places," said her father. "We don't pay him to sit around while you walk everywhere."
"Then maybe you should let him go," Muffy suggested. "Or give him something more meaningful to do than drive a perfectly healthy little girl around."
"Your father has worked hard to obtain the standard of living we have now," said her mother. "You should be grateful for your privileges."
"Maybe so," said Muffy, "but I've been thinking lately. Do we really need all this fancy stuff? There are so many people who have nothing. Why don't we share with them? Then we'll all be happy."
"That Cooper boy is filling your head with nonsense," said Mr. Crosswire.
"You mean Van?"
"I know you've been seeing him. A lot of him."
"Who told you?"
"It's common knowledge."
"And why shouldn't I see him?" said Muffy defiantly. "He's a great boy. He's helped me to gain a whole new perspective on life."
Mr. Crosswire leaned forward and added emphasis to his voice. "Maybe I haven't made it clear enough to you what will happen if I don't win this lawsuit. Crosswire Motors will go out of business. We'll have to move out of this house and live in a smaller one. You won't have all the nice things you have now."
Muffy folded her arms. "I don't care."
"What do you mean, you don't care?" Mr. Crosswire snapped.
"If you lose, I'll just have to live like my friends do."
Flustered and angry, Mr. Crosswire struggled for words.
"Have you forgotten that you're a Crosswire? Crosswires don't live in plain houses. They don't have plain cars. Crosswires have privileges and aren't ashamed of them. Mel Cooper and his family want to destroy all that."
Muffy hesitated. "Dad...you didn't do any of the things Mr. Simon accuses you of...did you?"
It seemed as if her father was about to leap out of his skin.
"That boy is poisoning your mind. He's trying to destroy your confidence in your parents. And I'll bet his father put him up to it."
"That's not true!" Muffy insisted emotionally. "He never said anything bad about you!"
"From now on, you are not to see Van Cooper outside of school. Is that clear?"
"But..."
"Is that clear? Yes or no!"
Muffy hung her head. "Yes, Dad."
She didn't see Van until the next day in the classroom. The duck boy rolled up to the glum-looking girl and tried to console her.
"My dad won't let me see you anymore," said Muffy sadly.
Van sighed. "I knew it was coming to this.
"I don't know my dad anymore," Muffy lamented. "I almost wish I wasn't a Crosswire."
"What's in a name?"
"If it's Crosswire, an awful lot."
"At least we can still see each other at school," said Van.
"You're right," said Muffy. "They can't take that away from me."
But they could.
Muffy was in her room when her parents entered, but this time they appeared more unruffled than the previous day. "Got a minute, Muffin?" asked her father, who sounded almost cheery.
"Okay," said the girl, and the parents sat next to her.
"After the talk we had yesterday, your father and I did some thinking," said Mrs. Crosswire. "We decided you could use a change in your school environment."
"Why?" asked Muffy. "Lakewood's a nice school."
"Yes, but there are other schools where we think you would get a better education."
Muffy gasped. "You don't mean..."
"Yes, I do," said her mother. "We've decided to enroll you in a private school."
A chill passed through Muffy's heart. She buried her face in her hands and groaned.
In another part of the neighborhood, Prunella sat on the floor in her attic, lost in a meditative trance. As she explored her inner self, a little girl's voice called to her from the empty air.
"Prunella..."
The rat girl awakened from her trance. "Huh? Who's there?"
"If you build it, we will come," intoned the mysterious voice.
"Who are you?" asked Prunella nervously.
In the dim light of the attic, the glowing outline of a Pomeranian appeared...
TBC
