When Francine awoke on Sunday morning in Sue Ellen's room, she felt as if she was on a vacation, sleeping in a friend's or relative's house. If she had ever been in a hotel, she might have compared the sensation to being in a hotel. The posters of exotic locations decorating the walls certainly supported such an illusion. She wondered if there would ever come a day when technology would allow a person to take a few days of vacation in someone else's body. It was an intriguing thought...for the right amount of money, you could spend a little time in the body of your favorite celebrity or sports star. But something gave Francine the feeling that her residence in Sue Ellen's body was not a vacation, but rather a permanent move...

But whatever the case might be, she had to live with it, and Sue Ellen was probably having an equally hard time in Francine's body. The girl was accustomed to travel, and had never really called one country home; but now she faced the prospect of living in the same town for years on end, trapped as the daughter of a garbage man.

Suefran felt her long orange curls dance about her shoulders as she climbed out of the bed. As she opened the bedroom door and peered outside, she saw that two guests had joined her parents for morning tea. Two people whose relationship she had often wondered about, but had not followed closely--Nigel Ratburn and Carla Fuente.

She stepped out of the bedroom, barefooted, rubbing the drowsiness from her eyes. "Good morning, Sue Ellen!" Carla cried with delight upon seeing the girl whose nanny she had once been. She was wearing a conservative floral dress and black high-heeled shoes, as if she intended to leave for church soon.

"Uh, hi, Carla," said Suefran with a yawn. "Hello, Mr. Ratburn."

"Why don't you call me Nigel?" asked Mr. Ratburn as the groggy girl seated herself next to him on the couch. Across from her the Armstrongs sat together in the love seat, sipping tea.

"You don't look very happy to see us," Carla noted.

"The last time we came to visit," Mr. Ratburn added, "you were so excited, I was afraid you would drool on us."

"Hmm." Suefran tried to come up with an excuse for her lack of enthusiasm. "Maybe I just need a little caffeine. How about some of that tea, Mom?"

"You'll stunt your growth," Mrs. Armstrong warned her.

Suefran turned to Carla and Nigel, and brushed a few curls from her face. "So, I hear you two are engaged again," she said idly.

"More or less," replied Mr. Ratburn as he lifted a cup of tea from a coaster on the coffee table. "It depends on how long I remain a free man."

"Of course we're engaged." Carla rubbed the top of Nigel's head with her knuckles. "You're my sweet jailbird of paradise."

"What have you been doing since you stopped teaching at Lakewood?" Suefran asked Nigel.

"Nothing," Mr. Ratburn answered somberly. "My life's pretty much on hold until the court decides my fate."

"What about your sister?" Suefran pressed him.

"I have no idea where she is," Nigel replied, "and normally I would say that's the way I like it. Wherever she is, she's only making things worse for herself...and Muffy, too." He took another sip of tea.

"The important thing is, the two of you are together again," Suefran remarked. Her lips curled upwards as she reminisced about the clever matchmaking scheme she had coordinated, without which these two lovebirds might never have met...

"I couldn't believe it when I learned that it was all Francine's idea," Carla said to Nigel. She turned to Suefran and added with a chuckle, "You, on the other hand, were violently opposed to it."

Suefran's heart sank. She felt as if someone had strapped her to a gurney and pried her eyelids open, and was forcing her to stare at another girl's reflection in a mirror.

"Why don't you go take your bath, Sue Ellen?" Mrs. Armstrong asked her. "You look like something the cat dragged in."

Another disadvantage of being in Sue Ellen's body...constant cat jokes...

"Uh, yeah, I think I will," she muttered, lowering herself from the couch.

On the way to the bathtub, she stopped to look into the mirror at the acres of straggly curls adorning her new head. She thought about cutting them all off, but it occurred to her that the real Sue Ellen, despite inhabiting Francine's body, was probably still capable of tearing out her throat.

----

More capable than she imagined. At that moment, Fransue was stepping out of the dressing room at the local dojo, dressed in a white robe and a white belt. She smiled, put her hands together, and bowed politely to the other kids, who ranged in age from five to twelve. At the other end of the training room, Mrs. Frensky was chatting with the instructor, a Korean cat man who wore a black belt and a badge reading, TAE ONE ON STUDIOS.

"I hope this time she takes it seriously and doesn't quit after two lessons," said Mrs. Frensky.

"I will do my best to motivate her," replied the instructor.

As Mrs. Frensky departed from the building, the Korean man approached the sparring students and clapped his hands together. "Let us begin," he ordered. All the kids, including Fransue, quickly assumed lotus positions and formed a line in front of the instructor.

"A new student has joined us today," the man announced, gesturing at Fransue. "This is Miss Francine Frenchy."

Fransue grinned and waved at the other pupils, not noticing the fact that the instructor had mispronounced Francine's last name.

"Let us meditate," said the teacher as he seemed to melt into a kneeling position.

Fransue closed her eyes. Sue Ellen had found it difficult to avoid worrying ever since she had been thrust into Francine's body, so clearing her mind on this occasion was a daunting challenge. She decided to make it easier by dwelling on the positives of the situation. She was taller now--no longer the shortest fourth-grader at Lakewood--which might prove to be an advantage. Having ears on the sides of her head would likely help her to maintain better balance, something she had always struggled with.

"All rise," the instructor commanded. The kids pushed themselves to their feet in unison. "We will start with the basic blocks and punches, so that Francine may learn."

The lesson began, and to the teacher's surprise, Fransue matched all of the other pupils for speed and coordination in all the basic moves. She herself was no less surprised, considering that she had been absent from lessons for several months due to her broken arm. She could only conclude that Francine's bodily composition lent itself better to the demands of martial arts.

She felt freer than ever before. Maybe she would enjoy this new life after all...

----

That afternoon, Arthur and D.W. hurried through the door into the Read house, where several of their musical companions were waiting in the living room. They yanked off their coats and placed them on the rack, then went to greet Fern, Sue Ellen, Francine, Alan, and Van, who were seated in chairs, on the couch, or in a wheelchair. Francine's drum set had been mounted next to the piano, and the cases for Alan's cello and Sue Ellen's saxophone were leaning against a wall.

"So, what did you find out?" Suefran asked Arthur.

"She says it wasn't her," Arthur replied as he sat down on the piano bench. "But I could swear that was her voice."

"That's disappointing," Fern remarked. "When you told me, I thought maybe she was trying to get back into show business."

"What's this you're talking about?" asked Alan as he picked up his cello case and opened it. D.W. jumped into the chair he had been sitting in, and clasped her hands in expectation of hearing some lively jazz music. Adil, the Turkish exchange student, emerged from the guest bedroom and sat next to her.

"Arthur and I were at the mall yesterday," explained Suefran as she moved into the chair behind Francine's drums. "We both thought it was Mrs. Stiles in the Mary Moo Cow costume."

"Sue Ellen, you're not playing the drums, are you?" Fern asked Suefran.

"Yes, I am," Suefran answered as she grasped the drumsticks. "Now that my arm's better, I thought I'd experiment with a different instrument."

"Me, too," said Fransue, who was pulling Sue Ellen's saxophone from its case.

"I don't care what instrument you're playing," Van told Suefran. "It's good to have you back in the group."

Then, as Fern and Van watched from their seats, the Sue E. Armstrong Quartet began to play--Arthur on piano, Alan on bass, Sue Ellen on drums, and Francine on sax. They only played for a minute before Arthur and Alan stopped and began to stare at Francine and Sue Ellen in wonder and disbelief.

"Whoa, whoa!" exclaimed Arthur. Francine removed the sax from her mouth, and Sue Ellen lowered her drumsticks.

"Wow!" Alan marveled. "If that was an experiment, I'd say it was successful."

"How did you two get so good on each other's instruments?" asked the astonished Arthur. "I've never seen you practice on anything but your own."

Fransue and Suefran both grinned smugly at Arthur.

"Are you ready to believe us now?" Fransue asked him.

(To be continued...)