"That's what it means," Angela replied glumly.
Still clutching the papers, Muffy sat on the couch next to her. "Is this for you, or for Nigel?" she asked.
"It's for me," said Angela, "but Nigel got one too. You see, we're both in trouble."
Not daring to speak, Muffy waited for the rat woman to continue with her story.
"A number of years ago, some people broke into a military base and performed an act of sabotage. The government conducted an investigation, and I was one of the suspects. But I was let off the hook when Nigel swore under oath that I had been with him on the night that the crime took place."
Muffy spoke in a low, nervous voice. "Angela, you didn't...you weren't one of the people who committed the crime, were you?"
Angela paused, as if weighing her answer carefully.
"Whether I was or not doesn't matter," she said evasively. "The important thing is, Nigel has a strong case against me. And now that he's recanted his testimony, he could face charges of perjury."
"Perjury?"
"Lying under oath. It doesn't look good, Muffy. Nigel and I may both end up in prison. But what I don't understand is...why now? With only three months before the statute of limitations runs out?"
Muffy was speechless. The prospect of Angela being prosecuted for past misdeeds had rested at the back of her mind ever since she had met the woman. But Nigel as well? It was incomprehensible.
"This is why my family hates me so much," Angela went on. "The Ratburns have a reputation for integrity. They weren't pleased with my choice of lifestyle, and it made them even angrier when Nigel had to lie to cover for me."
"Then it was a lie," said the astonished Muffy. "Then you are guilty."
Angela lowered her head in shame. "I was young and idealistic," she recounted. "I thought I could change the world. But the world didn't change, and I had to become one of the people I hated just to survive."
After a brief pause, Muffy became indignant. "That's wrong! You've spent so much time trying to clean up your life, but...but Nigel thinks you haven't suffered enough! He's nothing but a dirty rat!"
Angela didn't answer or look at Muffy.
"You should fight this," Muffy continued. "I know a really good lawyer."
----
At roughly the same time, Mr. Read was placing a tray of danish pastries into the oven in preparation for a convention which he was catering. Suddenly he saw, through the kitchen window, something he never expected to see in his life.
"Good Lord!" he exclaimed.
Reverend Fulsome was running--or rather, shuffling--down the sidewalk in front of the Read house. He wore an expression of terror, and his black pants had fallen down around his ankles, revealing his pin-striped boxer shorts.
Mr. Read hurried through the front door to greet the reverend. When Fulsome saw one of his parishioners approaching him, he stopped, bent over, and began to fumble with his pants.
"I'm sure you must have a good reason for this," said Mr. Read facetiously, "but isn't it a little cold?"
The reverend didn't answer as he pulled his pants over his boxer shorts and fastened his belt. He cast a nervous glance behind him, in the direction of the Tibble house. Then he asked, "Mind if I come in for a minute?"
"Not at all," said Mr. Read.
Once he had led the reverend into his house and closed the door, he started to chuckle. Seconds later, he burst into uncontrollable laughter.
"This is no laughing matter," the reverend said solemnly.
"I'm...sorry," Mr. Read choked out between giggles.
"Something's in that house," Fulsome told him. "It pulled my pants down. I had to get out of there before it pulled anything else down."
Mr. Read looked at him blankly for a few moments, then started to laugh again.
"The spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak," remarked the reverend. "I'll give you a minute to recover from the shock."
Still overcome by giggles, Mr. Read managed to string together a question. "What...do you think...it was, reverend?"
"I never believed in demons until today," Fulsome replied. "And this is no ordinary demon. I suspect we're dealing with a succubus."
Mr. Read suddenly stopped laughing. "A what?"
"A she-demon who seduces men in their sleep."
"That's crazy."
"No, I think it makes perfect sense. Why else would it want to pull down my pants?"
Mr. Read started to laugh hysterically again. Reverend Fulsome rolled his eyes and sighed.
----
Friday arrived, and the children could talk about nothing except for the party at Mavis' house that evening, and the following evening's concert featuring Wynton Marsalis and Sue Ellen's jazz quartet with Fern substituting for the injured Sue Ellen.
As Beat strolled into the Sugar Bowl after the end of school, she saw Binky sitting at a table alone, looking rather glum. As she sat down across from him, he raised his eyes slowly to connect with hers, then lowered them again.
Beat grinned. "Penny for your thoughts, Binky."
Binky took a deep breath. "I wasn't invited to the party at Mavis' house because I'm a big stupid doofus and I stood there and did nothing while Molly pushed her into a puddle and made her books get wet because I didn't want to be embarrassed in front of Molly because Molly's my friend and Mavis isn't, or at least that's how Mavis sees it. Keep your penny."
Beat rested her chin on her hands and gazed at Binky silently and wistfully, as if hoping that the glow of her countenance would cheer him up.
It didn't. "You're right, Beat. I'm nothing but a silly goose."
"Now that you've admitted it, maybe we can get somewhere." Beat rested her hands on the table and leaned forward. "I think the best thing is for you to go to the party, invited or no, and apologize to Mavis."
"Now you're being a silly goose," Binky protested. "I can't go to Mavis' house without an invitation. She probably lives in a super fancy high-tech mansion. The moment I walk in, a laser beam will scan my DNA and then the master computer will look for my name on the list of invited guests. When it doesn't find me, a couple of robot bouncers will grab me and take me out back and throw me in the dumpster."
"I never actually met her," said Beat. "Muffy delivered her invitation to me. But I think she's a nice girl. She'll understand."
"You think so?" asked Binky.
Beat nodded.
A few tables away, Fern and George sat and faced each other, discussing the strange occurrences at the Tibble house.
"It's weird, isn't it?" Fern reflected. "Trixie went inside, and something scared her half to death. Reverend Fulsome went inside, and someone pulled down his pants. Whenever you and I go inside, nothing happens."
"Don't forget the yellow blob," George reminded her.
"Right." Fern's tone became suspicious. "You know what I think? This is all some sort of publicity stunt to bring more tourists to Elwood City. 'Come visit the Tibble Tower of Terror, if you dare!'"
"That would be cool," George mused. "People from all over the world coming to our neighborhood to see the haunted house."
"I've got a better idea." Fern smiled. "'Come to Elwood City and tour the childhood home of singing sensation Fern Walters.'"
----
Later that evening, Muffy and Mavis were busily making preparations for the party at Mavis' house, which, as it turned out, was a very modest place of residence. There was only one floor and two bedrooms, one of which Mavis had to herself. In the living room sat a drab-looking couch and love seat, and an old 30-inch TV set with metal antennae attached to the back. A pile of VHS movies and several bowls of snack food had been placed on the coffee table.
"If this were my house," said Muffy as she started to place some old wooden chairs in a circle, "there would be servants to do all this manual labor."
"But it's not, so we have to do it ourselves," said Mavis, who was employing a feather duster to clean the surface of an antique but still functional piano.
The doorbell rang. "I'll get it," said Muffy. She hurried to the door and opened it, revealing the presence of Van in his wheelchair. "Van, you made it! Come on in!"
Van pushed a button on the armrest, and the wheelchair zipped through the doorway. He glanced around the living room, befuddled. "I wasn't sure if I had the right place. I guess this is it after all."
"It's not much to look at, but it's home," said Mavis as she opened a closet door and stored the feather duster inside.
"Nothing's wrong with it," Van went on. "My house isn't much bigger, and there are six of us kids. But I thought only rich kids with fancy houses went to Uppity Downs."
Mavis sat down on a wooden chair next to Van. "For the most part, that's true, but my case is different. I had a rich uncle who left a stipulation in his will that would pay for my tuition, because I was his favorite niece."
Before Van had a chance to comment on Mavis' good fortune, the doorbell rang again. Muffy opened the door to find Beat standing on the welcome mat, a look of uncertainty on her face.
"I wasn't sure if I had the right place..." she began.
"Mavis isn't rich," Muffy interrupted. "She goes to Uppity Downs because of her uncle's will. Come on in, Beat."
As the British girl stepped into the house, Mavis rose to meet her. "I'm Mavis Cutler," she introduced herself. "So you're the girl who took my place."
"That I am," said Beat softly. "And imagine my surprise to learn that one doesn't have to be rich in order to attend Uppity Downs." She spoke in a solemn tone, as if a chorus of angels had just announced to her the purpose of human existence.
Before Muffy had a chance to close the door, Francine appeared in the doorway, also wearing a confused expression.
"Yes, this is the right place," Muffy told her. "No, Mavis isn't rich. Come in, Francine."
"Thanks, Muffy." Francine walked inside, pulled off her red jacket, and stood behind Beat, who was hanging her pink parka in the coat closet.
Within minutes, Arthur, Sue Ellen, Fern, and George had also arrived, and Muffy briefed each one of them on the fact that Mavis wasn't as rich as they had expected.
As George fished a handful of popcorn from the bowl on the coffee table, he noticed the stack of VHS tapes sitting nearby. "Oh, look! Video tapes!" he marveled. "My mom told me about them. They're what people watched before DVDs were invented."
"Which one do you want to watch?" Mavis asked him.
George looked stunned. "What? We're gonna watch one of them?"
"That's the idea," Mavis responded. "Unless you want to just sit around and talk."
"I didn't know people still watched these things," said George, picking up the topmost video and turning it in his hand. "I thought they just kept them around for sentimental value."
"Video tapes were all I had to watch when I was little," Sue Ellen told him. "I never saw a DVD until I came to America."
Not far away, Arthur was examining the old-fashioned television. "This thing is really old," he remarked. "It's even got rabbit ears."
"What's wrong with rabbit ears?" Beat asked him.
As Mavis was showing Francine a scrapbook containing pictures of her as a toddler, Fern approached her. "I'm sorry, but I don't think I can stay for the movie," she announced. "I really need to practice my singing."
"Oh, well, have fun then," said Mavis. "Good luck at the concert tomorrow."
As Fern walked away, Francine began to speak apologetically. "I need to go as well. I start to lose my touch if I'm away from my drums for too long. I'm sorry I can't stay longer."
"Good luck tomorrow." Mavis closed the scrapbook and replaced it on the shelf as Francine made her way to the door.
One after another, the guests at Mavis' party offered excuses for leaving early, and then departed. Soon only Mavis, Muffy, and Beat remained. The three girls looked at each other in stunned silence.
"How rude!" exclaimed the indignant Muffy. "What were they expecting, the Queen Elizabeth II?"
"I don't care if you're rich or poor," Beat told Mavis. "I'm just glad to have a new friend."
"Well, at least there are two people I can count on to never leave me alone," said Mavis.
The doorbell rang. Muffy answered it, and the anxious-looking Binky stepped into the house.
Mavis rolled her eyes and sighed. "Make that three."
She glared impatiently at Binky as the uninvited boy approached her. "So, did you finally decide that I'm your friend after all?"
"I just wanted to talk to you," said Binky in a contrite voice.
"Look around you." Mavis took several steps toward Binky. "This is my house. It's not exactly the palace you expected, is it?"
"Uh...no," said Binky, glancing around.
"Do you still want to talk to me?" Mavis asked him.
"Yeah." Binky seated himself on the couch and patted the other cushion, in hopes that Mavis would sit next to him.
And she did, though hesitant at first.
Muffy started toward Mavis' bedroom. "I think we should leave these two alone," she told Beat, who began to follow her.
After the two girls had entered the bedroom and closed the door behind them, Binky faced Mavis with a confident grin. "So...you're not rich after all."
"I'm afraid not," Mavis replied. "As I've already explained to seven people tonight, I can only afford to attend Uppity Downs because of my rich uncle's will."
"I'm okay with you not being rich," said Binky. "In fact, I think it's great that you're not rich. I mean, being rich is cool and all, but if you were rich, then you wouldn't want anything to do with a poor boy like me."
Mavis didn't respond, but continued to stare blankly at him.
Binky's voice became emotional. "What I'm trying to say is...I...I think you're really smart, and really cute, and I think...I think I have a crush on you..."
Mavis' eyes nearly exploded from their sockets. Binky held his breath and watched as the girl's face contorted through various stages of shock.
Finally she composed herself and spoke. "You...you have a crush on me?"
Binky nodded weakly.
Then Mavis did something that took Binky by surprise. She placed her hands on her sides and began to laugh convulsively.
He had expected to be spurned, but he hadn't expected to be laughed at. It annoyed him. "Stop laughing at me!" he growled.
Mavis managed to get out a few sentences between her laughs and giggles. "You have a crush on me? Aren't you afraid Molly will be jealous?"
"Molly's not my girlfriend," Binky told her. "She's just my friend."
"And I'm not!" Mavis' laughter suddenly turned to indignation. "I embarrass you, don't I? You're afraid you'll be kicked out of your little band of bullies if you're seen with me! And now you have the nerve to come to me and tell me you're in love with me!"
The girl's sudden outburst made Binky feel as though a package of firecrackers had just exploded in his face. He closed his gaping mouth and struggled to calm his nerves. "I'm not in love with you," he explained. "I just have a crush on you."
After glaring fiercely at Binky for about half a minute, Mavis began to cool down. Finally she lowered her eyes. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have popped off like that. It's so undignified."
"It's okay," said Binky sympathetically. "Look, I'm really, really sorry for what happened at the playground. I'll do anything to make it up to you."
"Anything?"
"Anything."
Mavis' lips curled into a wicked grin. Binky began to wish he had said "almost anything" instead.
"Oh, yes," said Mavis with a sinister tone. "I know exactly how you can prove that your feelings are true."
"How?" asked Binky.
"Avenge me." Mavis' eyes were like glowing embers. "Fight Molly!"
(To be continued...)
