"What are you looking for, Greta?" Mrs. Read asked the unicorn girl.
"I have to make sure Mr. Baker didn't follow Fern here," Greta replied.
Fern shot her an angry glance. "Why are you so afraid of Mr. Baker?" she demanded. "And what did you do to D.W.?"
"I didn't do anything to her," said Greta as she slowly closed the front door.
"The doctor's still trying to figure out what's wrong with her," said Mrs. Read. "But he believes it's not contagious."
Fern reexamined D.W. as the fivesome walked toward the living room. "She looks just like you, Greta," she noted. "Only the hair is different. How did you do it?"
"I told you..." Greta began.
"Wait a minute," Arthur interrupted Greta. "You mean...Fern doesn't know?"
"Know what?" Fern's tone of voice seemed to grow more suspicious with every word.
"That...er...uh..." Greta stammered for a moment, then suddenly threw her arm around Arthur's shoulders and smiled. "That Arthur is my boyfriend now!"
Unfortunately, Arthur's horrified grimace did little to convince Fern of the truthfulness of Greta's statement.
"Isn't that right, honey?" said Greta sweetly as she nudged Arthur's leg with her knee.
"Uh, yes, dear." Arthur leaned over and gave Greta a peck on the cheek. He tried to smile, but looked as if he had just been forced to eat a cockroach.
Fern and D.W. sat on the couch together, and Fern started to run her fingers along D.W.'s horse nose. "This is incredible," she remarked.
Greta seated herself next to the two girls. "I had nothing to do with it," she insisted. "Horse people just look alike, that's all."
"But neither of you looks like Mr. Wald," Fern countered. "If I didn't know better, I'd say that you're really a unicorn, and now you've turned D.W. into a unicorn. That's what Mr. Baker seems to think. But I know that can't be true, because unicorns aren't real."
"Of course not." Greta chuckled insincerely. "Who believes in that stuff?"
"Mr. Baker does," Fern replied. "And you still haven't told me why you're so afraid of him."
"I wish I could answer your question, but I can't," said Greta. "Suffice it to say, you mustn't let Mr. Baker come near me or D.W."
"What?" Fern stared at her incredulously. "Why is D.W. in danger from Mr. Baker?"
"I can't answer that question, either. This is a matter of utmost sensitivity. You've got to trust me, Fern."
However, Fern appeared to not trust Greta in the least. Leaping from the couch, she pointed an accusing finger at the girl. "I think you're hiding something, Greta von Horstein. And I won't rest until I find out what it is!"
In a huff, Fern walked out of the room and out the front door. Mrs. Read, in the meantime, headed back to the laundry room.
Arthur took a seat next to Greta and D.W. "I can't believe you never told her that you're a unicorn," he said to Greta.
"Fern's my best human friend in the world," Greta answered with a hint of emotion. "I won't endanger her by revealing my secret."
"With Fern sniffing around, it won't stay a secret for long."
Greta, her expression becoming more anxious, pulled herself up from the couch. "I should go now."
"But I want to talk to Pal some more!" D.W. whined.
"Just practice what I taught you." Greta patted D.W. on the head and then turned toward the front door.
"Bye, Greta," said Arthur, waving.
As she opened the door to leave, Greta turned and gave Arthur and D.W. a final, sad glance. She closed the door behind her and started down the sidewalk, unaware that Fern was watching her from behind a tree half a block away.
"So, what did Pal say to you?" Arthur asked D.W.
"Nothing," D.W. replied. "He just ran away." She became silent and thoughtful as her horn gradually reappeared. "You know what, Arthur? I wish all my friends would turn into unicorns, so they can live as long as me, and I won't be lonely."
"But I don't want to be a unicorn," said Arthur.
"You're not my friend," said D.W., grinning. "You're my brother."
----
"I tip my hat...to you!" were the grim words emblazoned above the image of a shadowy fiend clad in an overcoat and fedora, in the movie poster for Death Wore a Derby.
Each time Muffy started on one of the algebra problems that Mrs. Stiles had assigned her, she found her attention diverted by the gruesome poster. She had watched the movie with Francine not long after starting fourth grade, and neither girl had found it very interesting.
The phone rang. Mrs. Stiles, who was in the kitchen mixing dough for a batch of late Christmas cookies, picked it up. "Muffy, it's for you," she called.
Relieved to have an excuse to put off her algebra homework, Muffy leaped from the desk and hurried to the phone. "Hello?"
"Hi, Muffy," came the voice of a girl whom Muffy thought would never call her in a million years.
"Odette?"
"Yeah, it's me. Got a minute?"
Muffy took a seat on a nearby wooden chair. "Sure, go ahead."
Odette lay on her bed at the Cooper home, lazily staring up at the poster of Mikhail Baryshnikov that adorned her ceiling. "I wanted to talk about this Blinded by Science thing of yours," she said into the phone. "It's turning all the kids into science freaks. I'm really impressed."
"Thanks," said Muffy bashfully, "but you should be talking to Mrs. Stiles. She does all the work."
"I'd like to get together with the two of you," said Odette. "I think I can contribute something to your program. I know a thing or two about science myself."
"Well, of course." Muffy chuckled. "I mean, seventh-graders know everything, right?"
Odette sighed. "I wish."
"Sure, we'd love to have you help," said Muffy, smiling. "Is that everything?"
"No, there's more. I have two words for you. I'm sorry."
Muffy's smile faded. "Sorry? For what?"
Odette took a deep breath. "I think I know the reason why I was kidnapped. It's because I was so distrustful. I didn't trust you because you were a Crosswire. I didn't trust Van because I was afraid your dishonesty might have rubbed off on him. If I had trusted you and Van instead of spying on you, the kidnapping never would have happened."
"But you turned out to be right," Muffy noted.
"That doesn't matter," Odette went on. "I was unfair to you and Van, and I think the kidnapping was God's punishment for that."
There was silence on the line as Muffy pondered the significance of Odette's words.
She finally spoke. "That's silly. If God punished us every time we're unfair to somebody, the Crosswires would all be in the poor house."
A few more seconds of silence were followed by a single word by Odette. "Whatever."
"You're trying too hard to find some kind of cosmic meaning for what happened to you," said Muffy. "Give it up. Life's just that way. Don't let a little thing like this crush your spirit."
"You could make a fortune writing motivational books," said Odette.
"I already have a fortune," Muffy pointed out. "I don't need another one."
Odette took another breath. "I have two more words for you, Muffy. Thank you."
Muffy fell silent and waited, intrigued, for what would come next.
"I don't know what would have become of me if not for you," Odette continued. "I might have never escaped from that place."
Muffy became misty-eyed. "It means so much to me to hear that from you."
"No charge," said Odette.
"So, is there anything else you'd like to get off your chest?"
"Yes, there is. But my mom says I'll be a young woman soon, so I have to get used to it."
----
It was shortly after one o'clock in the morning. Lying in the entrance to his doghouse and gazing up at the bright half-moon, Pal continued his efforts to find meaning in the jumbled words that D.W. had spoken to him earlier in the day. The humans have never spoken to me before, he thought. This could change everything. If only I could make sense of what...
Pal's train of thought was brought to an abrupt halt by an unusual scent in the air. It reminded him of the strange horse girl who had become an occasional visitor at the Read home, yet it was somehow different.
He started to walk through the crusty snow in the direction of the sidewalk. "It's probably nothing," he told himself, "but I'd better sound the alarm just to be on the side of safety."
By the time Pal reached the sidewalk, the intruders had already appeared.
Two tall figures stood before him. They were dressed in robes and hoods that had the texture of sackcloth, but were pale blue in color. Although their hoods obscured their faces, Pal could make out a glimmer of gold that seemed to emanate from their foreheads.
Terrified at first by the sight of these strangers, Pal gathered his courage and opened his mouth to bark. As he did so, one of the robed figures waved its gloved hand at him.
The mysterious visitors then walked past Pal and toward the front door of the Read house. Pal pursued them doggedly, barking and barking...but making no sound.
(To be continued...)
