What little of the temple sermon Francine hadn't slept through had been
abysmally dull. As she sat in her apartment watching TV after the end of the
service, she imagined ways that she might excuse herself from attending in the
future. Maybe she could claim to have a rare disease that caused her to become
gravely nauseous every Saturday morning. Or perhaps she could simply state
that she had decided to change religions and become a non-practicing
vegetarian.
As she deliberated her options, she heard the phone ring. "Frankie, it's for you," called Catherine, who sounded disappointed that it hadn't been Mitch.
Thinking it might be Sue Ellen, Francine rose eagerly from the couch. She hadn't heard from her other half since the previous night, when she had admitted the truth about Hank Armstrong's occupation. She wondered how the girl was reacting to the news. "Hello?" she said into the phone.
She was startled to hear a muffled female voice. "You and Sue Ellen meet me at the old barn at two o'clock. I'll put you to sleep and switch you back, and then you'll go on like nothing happened. No parents, no police, and no tricks, or else you'll stay the way you are forever." Then the call ended.
Francine could hardly stay on her feet as she put down the receiver. Finally, the deliverance she had dreamed of ever since the instant, eight days ago, when she had opened her eyes and found that she was no longer Sue Ellen. Finally, the nightmare would be over.
She hurried from the apartment, pulling her coat over her arms as she leaped down the stairway. She had to tell Sue Ellen...Francine, that is...there was no more reason to call her Sue Ellen, since they would soon be restored to their old selves.
It never occurred to her as she raced down the sidewalk that the person or people responsible for switching them might have a sinister agenda that should be brought to the attention of the authorities. All she could think about was how happy she would be when she regained her own body and returned to live with her own parents...
She quickly reached the Armstrong house and pounded giddily on the door. A moment later it was answered by the man of the house. "Come in, Francine," he said with a smile.
Francine stepped into the house and noticed, to her surprise, that several large cardboard boxes had been placed around the floor. In addition, many items had disappeared from the shelves on the walls, including most of Mr. Armstrong's book collection. "Is Sue Ellen home?" she asked.
"I guess she didn't tell you," Mr. Armstrong replied as he wrapped his hands around a set of books and pulled them down from the shelf. "We're leaving."
"Leaving?" Francine's jaw dropped. "Why?"
"I've been called on an emergency assignment to Karjakistan. Things are getting out of hand there, even more so than usual. Sue Ellen and Daisy have gone ahead. I'll be joining them, as soon as I make arrangements to move our belongings."
"Why don't you all go together?" asked Francine curiously.
Mr. Armstrong carefully inserted the books in his hands into one of the boxes. He looked up at Francine, smiled, and didn't answer.
Then the truth of the situation hit Francine like a dagger cleaving her heart in two.
"You're not going to Karjakistan," she said, her voice rising to a frantic pitch. "You've sent them to some undisclosed location to keep them safe! You think your cover's blown!"
"My cover?" Mr. Armstrong said to the horrified girl. "What do you mean?"
Despair filled Francine's voice. "I know you're not really a diplomat. I know you work for the CIA! I know you have enemies who want to kill us! I know these things because I'm really Sue Ellen!"
Mr. Armstrong stared at her, annoyed and speechless.
Francine threw her arms around the man's waist, tears spraying from her eyes. "Please, Dad! You have to believe me! You've got the wrong girl! Don't leave me behind!"
The next thing she saw through her tear-soaked eyes was Mr. Armstrong's angry expression and his arm pointing toward the door. "Go!" he exclaimed. "Get out! Shoo!" He was dismissing her like a dog. It would be her last memory of him. He would tell no one where he was going...
Unable to bear the sight, Francine turned and fled from Mr. Armstrong's presence, sobbing violently. When she had slammed the door after her and reached the front porch, she sank to her knees, put her hands over her eyes, and wept with all her might. Her anguished cries caused all the dogs in the neighborhood to turn their heads and perk up their ears.
She wished she could die on the spot. Her life was as good as over anyway. She would never see her parents again. She would never be Sue Ellen again. There was nothing she could do.
There was one thing she could do...
----
The time was two minutes before two o'clock. The old barn next to the creek was more brightly illuminated than normal, but there were still shadows, and a figure lurked in one of them. It was a child of undistinguishable gender, dressed in a baggy brown shirt and pants, with a blue ski mask covering its head. In one hand it held a small red bottle with a nozzle and trigger attached to the top. Its index finger was wrapped nervously around the trigger, as if the child expected at any minute to have to pull it.
Half a minute passed, and then the sound of rustling weeds was heard. It was followed by rapid footsteps, growing louder, as if someone was in a tremendous hurry.
An instant later, Francine Frensky charged through the opening in the barn door, gasping and panting with rage. The masked child lifted up the bottle it was holding, and pointed the nozzle toward her. "This won't hurt a bit," came a voice from behind the mask, which sounded like it belonged to a girl.
Francine shrieked and lashed out with her foot, knocking the bottle from the masked girl's hand. It landed on the hay-littered floor of the barn and rolled several feet. The girl, seeing she was under threat, put out her hands and assumed a defensive posture.
Her anger unabated, Francine hurled her right fist at the girl, who swung her arm and blocked it. Then Francine threw a left hook, which was similary countered. Whoever this girl was, she had been trained.
The empty barn echoed with Francine's furious screams as she launched a barrage of kicks and punches at the mysterious girl who had robbed her of her body and her life. She held nothing back. The girl danced about skillfully, dodging and blocking Francine's attacks. The grim contest went on for about fifteen seconds, at which point Francine managed to squeeze in her right fist and connect with the masked girl's nose. The girl cried out in pain. The advantage now hers, Francine struck with her left fist, catching the girl in her exposed right eye. She threw four more punches, pummelling the girl's face. Then she stood back while her foe dropped to her knees, wobbling and struggling to remain upright.
The fight seemed to be over...or was it a trick? Francine wasn't sure, but she knew she had to see who was behind the mask. Reaching out cautiously with her right hand, she grabbed the girl's ski mask by the eyehole and yanked it off, revealing a pair of slicked-back rabbit ears...
...and the dazed, bloodied face of Beat Simon.
(To be continued in AGF VI)
As she deliberated her options, she heard the phone ring. "Frankie, it's for you," called Catherine, who sounded disappointed that it hadn't been Mitch.
Thinking it might be Sue Ellen, Francine rose eagerly from the couch. She hadn't heard from her other half since the previous night, when she had admitted the truth about Hank Armstrong's occupation. She wondered how the girl was reacting to the news. "Hello?" she said into the phone.
She was startled to hear a muffled female voice. "You and Sue Ellen meet me at the old barn at two o'clock. I'll put you to sleep and switch you back, and then you'll go on like nothing happened. No parents, no police, and no tricks, or else you'll stay the way you are forever." Then the call ended.
Francine could hardly stay on her feet as she put down the receiver. Finally, the deliverance she had dreamed of ever since the instant, eight days ago, when she had opened her eyes and found that she was no longer Sue Ellen. Finally, the nightmare would be over.
She hurried from the apartment, pulling her coat over her arms as she leaped down the stairway. She had to tell Sue Ellen...Francine, that is...there was no more reason to call her Sue Ellen, since they would soon be restored to their old selves.
It never occurred to her as she raced down the sidewalk that the person or people responsible for switching them might have a sinister agenda that should be brought to the attention of the authorities. All she could think about was how happy she would be when she regained her own body and returned to live with her own parents...
She quickly reached the Armstrong house and pounded giddily on the door. A moment later it was answered by the man of the house. "Come in, Francine," he said with a smile.
Francine stepped into the house and noticed, to her surprise, that several large cardboard boxes had been placed around the floor. In addition, many items had disappeared from the shelves on the walls, including most of Mr. Armstrong's book collection. "Is Sue Ellen home?" she asked.
"I guess she didn't tell you," Mr. Armstrong replied as he wrapped his hands around a set of books and pulled them down from the shelf. "We're leaving."
"Leaving?" Francine's jaw dropped. "Why?"
"I've been called on an emergency assignment to Karjakistan. Things are getting out of hand there, even more so than usual. Sue Ellen and Daisy have gone ahead. I'll be joining them, as soon as I make arrangements to move our belongings."
"Why don't you all go together?" asked Francine curiously.
Mr. Armstrong carefully inserted the books in his hands into one of the boxes. He looked up at Francine, smiled, and didn't answer.
Then the truth of the situation hit Francine like a dagger cleaving her heart in two.
"You're not going to Karjakistan," she said, her voice rising to a frantic pitch. "You've sent them to some undisclosed location to keep them safe! You think your cover's blown!"
"My cover?" Mr. Armstrong said to the horrified girl. "What do you mean?"
Despair filled Francine's voice. "I know you're not really a diplomat. I know you work for the CIA! I know you have enemies who want to kill us! I know these things because I'm really Sue Ellen!"
Mr. Armstrong stared at her, annoyed and speechless.
Francine threw her arms around the man's waist, tears spraying from her eyes. "Please, Dad! You have to believe me! You've got the wrong girl! Don't leave me behind!"
The next thing she saw through her tear-soaked eyes was Mr. Armstrong's angry expression and his arm pointing toward the door. "Go!" he exclaimed. "Get out! Shoo!" He was dismissing her like a dog. It would be her last memory of him. He would tell no one where he was going...
Unable to bear the sight, Francine turned and fled from Mr. Armstrong's presence, sobbing violently. When she had slammed the door after her and reached the front porch, she sank to her knees, put her hands over her eyes, and wept with all her might. Her anguished cries caused all the dogs in the neighborhood to turn their heads and perk up their ears.
She wished she could die on the spot. Her life was as good as over anyway. She would never see her parents again. She would never be Sue Ellen again. There was nothing she could do.
There was one thing she could do...
----
The time was two minutes before two o'clock. The old barn next to the creek was more brightly illuminated than normal, but there were still shadows, and a figure lurked in one of them. It was a child of undistinguishable gender, dressed in a baggy brown shirt and pants, with a blue ski mask covering its head. In one hand it held a small red bottle with a nozzle and trigger attached to the top. Its index finger was wrapped nervously around the trigger, as if the child expected at any minute to have to pull it.
Half a minute passed, and then the sound of rustling weeds was heard. It was followed by rapid footsteps, growing louder, as if someone was in a tremendous hurry.
An instant later, Francine Frensky charged through the opening in the barn door, gasping and panting with rage. The masked child lifted up the bottle it was holding, and pointed the nozzle toward her. "This won't hurt a bit," came a voice from behind the mask, which sounded like it belonged to a girl.
Francine shrieked and lashed out with her foot, knocking the bottle from the masked girl's hand. It landed on the hay-littered floor of the barn and rolled several feet. The girl, seeing she was under threat, put out her hands and assumed a defensive posture.
Her anger unabated, Francine hurled her right fist at the girl, who swung her arm and blocked it. Then Francine threw a left hook, which was similary countered. Whoever this girl was, she had been trained.
The empty barn echoed with Francine's furious screams as she launched a barrage of kicks and punches at the mysterious girl who had robbed her of her body and her life. She held nothing back. The girl danced about skillfully, dodging and blocking Francine's attacks. The grim contest went on for about fifteen seconds, at which point Francine managed to squeeze in her right fist and connect with the masked girl's nose. The girl cried out in pain. The advantage now hers, Francine struck with her left fist, catching the girl in her exposed right eye. She threw four more punches, pummelling the girl's face. Then she stood back while her foe dropped to her knees, wobbling and struggling to remain upright.
The fight seemed to be over...or was it a trick? Francine wasn't sure, but she knew she had to see who was behind the mask. Reaching out cautiously with her right hand, she grabbed the girl's ski mask by the eyehole and yanked it off, revealing a pair of slicked-back rabbit ears...
...and the dazed, bloodied face of Beat Simon.
(To be continued in AGF VI)
