The bronze mermaid lamp on the night stand provided Beat with enough light to
carefully examine the sheet of paper in her hands. It was her first math test
at Uppity Downs, and the number 100 was written and circled in red ink at the
top. As she sat up in her bed, dressed in a pink nightgown, her face still
swollen and puffy, she wondered how she could have possibly obtained such a
high score.
Mrs. Simon quietly pushed the bedroom door open, and scowled when she found that her daughter was awake and active. "You should be resting," she said firmly. "Doctor's orders."
"This is unbelievable, Mum." Beat turned the paper so that her mother could see it. "I shouldn't have done better than a D on this test. There's no way I could have learned so much so quickly."
"You can look at that later." Mrs. Simon plucked the test from Beat's hands, then switched off the mermaid lamp, leaving the room in semi-darkness. "Now I want you to rest."
Beat reluctantly rested her head on the pillow, her rabbit ears leaning against the headboard. Her mother lifted the red quilt and laid it over her. Once Mrs. Simon had left the room and closed the door, Beat reached over to the night stand and grabbed her cell phone. Pulling the quilt all the way over her head, she flipped the phone open, and the confined space was filled with a pale green glow. She was determined to call Francine and resolve whatever difficult matter had arisen between them, regardless of the state of her health.
"Hello?" came Francine's voice.
"Frankie," Beat whispered earnestly.
"What is it?" asked Francine peevishly.
Beat spoke in a low voice so that her mother wouldn't hear. "I'm in bed. My mum's afraid my brain's been scrambled, so she's treating me like an invalid. If not for that, I'd come over."
"Did you talk to my dad?"
"I called him like you said. I wasn't sure what to say to him, but I don't think he was listening anyway."
Francine drew in a deep, hopeless breath and let it out. "He won't listen to me, either."
"You know I'd never willingly hurt you, Frankie," Beat went on. "You know how I feel about you."
"Then how do you explain what happened today?" Francine shot back.
"I can't," Beat admitted. "It's all very odd. My parents say I acted differently after meeting with Mr. Putnam. They say I talked more like a grownup. I did much better on my schoolwork than I should have. It's like I took a smart pill, and when it wore off I forgot everything."
"What about the martial arts?" asked Francine incredulously. "Was that another pill?"
"I don't know." Beat thought for a second. "Dad told me that Mr. Putnam was working on an invention that would put knowledge in your brain without your having to study. Maybe he used it on me."
"Weird," Francine marveled. "With an invention like that, you wouldn't have to go to school anymore."
"Wouldn't that be lovely," Beat remarked.
Francine suddenly gasped. "Omigosh! Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"
"What?" asked Beat, her voice rising in volume. "What are you thinking?"
"If...if you could do that..." Francine stammered as her mind raced. "If you could use a machine to put stuff in your brain and make yourself smarter...what if you could also take stuff out of your brain and...and put it in somebody else's brain..."
"Good heavens!" exclaimed Beat in a normal voice instead of a whisper. "I didn't think of that!"
"Beat, we've got to get together and figure this out," said Francine with a tone of urgency. "But I can't come to your place. I'm grounded for beating you up."
"Then I'll just have to unground you," Beat offered. "I'll tell your mum that I..."
Beat stopped in mid-sentence when the quilt was ripped away from over her head. Her mother's stern face was hanging over her, eerie shadows cast upon it by the light from the cell phone.
Mrs. Simon snatched the phone from Beat's hand, flipped it closed, and stuffed it into her pocket. "No talking," she ordered. "Rest."
"But, Mum, my brain's okay!" Beat protested. "I know what happened to my memory now!"
Mrs. Simon paid no heed to her daughter, but walked out of the bedroom and closed the door. Beat sighed with exasperation, laid her head down, and began to fiddle with her left ear.
(To be continued...)
Mrs. Simon quietly pushed the bedroom door open, and scowled when she found that her daughter was awake and active. "You should be resting," she said firmly. "Doctor's orders."
"This is unbelievable, Mum." Beat turned the paper so that her mother could see it. "I shouldn't have done better than a D on this test. There's no way I could have learned so much so quickly."
"You can look at that later." Mrs. Simon plucked the test from Beat's hands, then switched off the mermaid lamp, leaving the room in semi-darkness. "Now I want you to rest."
Beat reluctantly rested her head on the pillow, her rabbit ears leaning against the headboard. Her mother lifted the red quilt and laid it over her. Once Mrs. Simon had left the room and closed the door, Beat reached over to the night stand and grabbed her cell phone. Pulling the quilt all the way over her head, she flipped the phone open, and the confined space was filled with a pale green glow. She was determined to call Francine and resolve whatever difficult matter had arisen between them, regardless of the state of her health.
"Hello?" came Francine's voice.
"Frankie," Beat whispered earnestly.
"What is it?" asked Francine peevishly.
Beat spoke in a low voice so that her mother wouldn't hear. "I'm in bed. My mum's afraid my brain's been scrambled, so she's treating me like an invalid. If not for that, I'd come over."
"Did you talk to my dad?"
"I called him like you said. I wasn't sure what to say to him, but I don't think he was listening anyway."
Francine drew in a deep, hopeless breath and let it out. "He won't listen to me, either."
"You know I'd never willingly hurt you, Frankie," Beat went on. "You know how I feel about you."
"Then how do you explain what happened today?" Francine shot back.
"I can't," Beat admitted. "It's all very odd. My parents say I acted differently after meeting with Mr. Putnam. They say I talked more like a grownup. I did much better on my schoolwork than I should have. It's like I took a smart pill, and when it wore off I forgot everything."
"What about the martial arts?" asked Francine incredulously. "Was that another pill?"
"I don't know." Beat thought for a second. "Dad told me that Mr. Putnam was working on an invention that would put knowledge in your brain without your having to study. Maybe he used it on me."
"Weird," Francine marveled. "With an invention like that, you wouldn't have to go to school anymore."
"Wouldn't that be lovely," Beat remarked.
Francine suddenly gasped. "Omigosh! Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"
"What?" asked Beat, her voice rising in volume. "What are you thinking?"
"If...if you could do that..." Francine stammered as her mind raced. "If you could use a machine to put stuff in your brain and make yourself smarter...what if you could also take stuff out of your brain and...and put it in somebody else's brain..."
"Good heavens!" exclaimed Beat in a normal voice instead of a whisper. "I didn't think of that!"
"Beat, we've got to get together and figure this out," said Francine with a tone of urgency. "But I can't come to your place. I'm grounded for beating you up."
"Then I'll just have to unground you," Beat offered. "I'll tell your mum that I..."
Beat stopped in mid-sentence when the quilt was ripped away from over her head. Her mother's stern face was hanging over her, eerie shadows cast upon it by the light from the cell phone.
Mrs. Simon snatched the phone from Beat's hand, flipped it closed, and stuffed it into her pocket. "No talking," she ordered. "Rest."
"But, Mum, my brain's okay!" Beat protested. "I know what happened to my memory now!"
Mrs. Simon paid no heed to her daughter, but walked out of the bedroom and closed the door. Beat sighed with exasperation, laid her head down, and began to fiddle with her left ear.
(To be continued...)
