They trudged hastily through the snow and into the police station, eager expressions on their faces. Ed sported a fine cashmere suit, while Millicent wore a fancy red dress, and cradled baby Tyson in her left arm. They had dressed for church out of habit more than anything else.
"We're the Crosswires," Millicent announced to the uniformed rabbit woman at the reception desk. "Is Muffy here?"
"She'll be right out," the receptionist responded, looking down a nearby hallway. "Wait, here she comes now."
Around the corner walked Muffy, still wearing her thrift store blouse and skirt, her bobbed red hair looking rather straggly. She was escorted by one of the policewomen who had apprehended her the previous day. Upon seeing her parents, she lowered her eyes and made a sulky expression.
"Muffin, it's you!" Overjoyed, Mr. Crosswire crouched and put his arms around his daughter. His wife also knelt down, careful to keep her dress from making contact with the frosty mud they had tracked in.
"Hi, Mommy and Daddy," Muffy indifferently greeted her misty-eyed parents.
Ed and Millicent then took turns kissing Muffy on her cheeks. "I'm so glad you're safe," Mrs. Crosswire gushed. "I worried about you constantly. Don't ever run away from us again."
"I'll never hit you again, I promise," said Mr. Crosswire earnestly.
"Oh, Muffy, I was so afraid we had lost you forever," Mrs. Crosswire went on.
"That's it?" said Muffy in a surprised tone, as her mother caressed her now-short hair. "Aren't you gonna punish me or anything?"
"You're going back to Uppity Downs," Mr. Crosswire replied firmly. "And you'll take the bus, until we get you a new chauffeur. And no allowance for the rest of the school year. And we're still debating how long to ground you for."
"Let's go home now," said Mrs. Crosswire sweetly. "All your friends are waiting there." In her left arm, Tyson began to fidget and whimper.
As she followed her parents through the door of the police station, the scowling Muffy tried to comfort herself with the thought that, although she had gained nothing for herself by running away, she had given new hope to Angela Ratburn.
About ten minutes later, the four members of the Crosswire family entered their mansion through the front door, to find a throng of kids standing in the spacious living room, watched over by the French manservant Claude.
"Muffy's back!" Alan exulted as the kids began to cheer. He rushed to meet the girl, followed by Arthur, Adil, Binky, Prunella, George, Fern, and several of Muffy's classmates from Uppity Downs. Van came up behind them, and Marina used the whine of his wheelchair to guide her as she hobbled along, cane in hand.
"What in the world did you do to your hair?" Prunella asked the still gloomy-looking Muffy as the kids mobbed her.
"You're so thin!" Arthur remarked.
"My name is Adil Faruk," Adil introduced himself.
"You must be Arthur's friend from Turkey," said Muffy, shaking his hand.
"Did they catch the guy who kidnapped you?" Binky asked her.
"I wasn't kidnapped," Muffy replied. "And Angela's not a guy, and they didn't catch her, thank goodness."
"Hey, Muffy, will you be my valentine?" Van called out as the other kids made room for his wheelchair to pass.
"Van, I thought I was your valentine," Marina protested.
"I can't be your valentine, Van," said Muffy, grinning. "I'm gonna make you an honorary girl, remember?"
"What does that mean, anyway?" asked Van as he accompanied the other kids into the living room, where they all seated themselves on the expensive furniture.
"It's the highest honor that can be bestowed upon a boy," Muffy explained. "You get all the privileges of girlhood, without actually being a girl. You can share secrets with girls, you can go to all-girl slumber parties..."
"He isnot going into the girls' locker room," said Fern indignantly.
"Well, duh," said Muffy, folding her arms.
"We'll have to start calling him Vanna," George joked.
"Seriously, Muffy," Fern insisted, "I don't think the girls will go for that."
"Where are the girls, anyway?" Muffy glanced around. "Where's Francine? Where's Sue Ellen? And Beat? And Mavis? They should be here."
"Sue Ellen's gone," Arthur answered. "Her dad said something about an emergency assignment."
"Omigosh!" exclaimed Muffy. "For how long?"
"He didn't say," Arthur went on. "But Francine's been trying to convince us all week that she's really Sue Ellen, and Sue Ellen is really her. So maybe it's Francine who's gone." The other kids chuckled.
"Francine's grounded," Alan informed Muffy. "She asked me to meet at her place with Beat and Mavis, but I told her I was coming here instead."
"What's she grounded for?" asked Muffy.
"That's the incredible part," Alan continued, shaking his head. "It sounds like Francine and Beat had a pretty serious fight, and Beat's in bad shape."
"That's crazy!" cried the astonished Muffy. "They're best friends! They're more than friends! Uh, I mean, they're like sisters!"
----
"We're like sisters, Mrs. Frensky," Beat explained to Francine's mother as she sat on the couch next to Francine. "We'd never hurt each other. If Frankie says I was wearing a mask when she beat me up, then I believe her, and I think you should, too." Her nose and right eye looked slightly less bruised and swollen than the previous day.
"Show me the mask," said Mrs. Frensky, who was winding up the cord of her vacuum cleaner, "and maybe then I'll believe your story. Until then, she's not going anywhere except for temple and school."
"But I don't remember where the mask is," Beat lamented.
The door to the apartment flew open, and Mavis strolled in, wearing a light beige coat and a brown backpack over her green Sunday dress. "Hi, girls," she said, hopping onto the couch with Beat and Francine while removing her pack. "Hope I haven't missed anything important."
"Glad you could make it, Mavis," said Francine warmly. "I know you'd rather be at Muffy's right now. So would I."
"Same here," Beat chimed in. Mrs. Frensky retired into the parents' bedroom and closed the door.
"I figured you could use all the brain power you could get," said Mavis.
"I asked Alan and Fern to come," Francine related. "Alan's really smart, and Fern's good at detective stuff. But they went to Muffy's, so it looks like it's just the three of us. And we have to think of something fast, because the movers are already here."
Mavis suddenly raised a finger. "I have an idea. I'll go over to Mr. Armstrong's house and talk to him. Maybe I can win us some time."
"Good idea," said Beat. "Let's all go."
"I'll go alone," Mavis insisted. "He doesn't know me. If he sees either of you, he'll get suspicious."
"Okay," said Francine. "You go, we'll stay." Mavis jumped from the couch, strapped on her backpack, and hurried out the door.
"All right, Frankie," said Beat, "where do we start?"
"First of all," Francine began, "I wish you would call me Sue Ellen when nobody else is around. Second, we've got to be really careful. If we find out where my parents are going, we can't tell anyone else."
"Why not?"
Francine breathed deeply. "I've never told you this before, but...my dad has made some enemies."
As Francine and Beat counseled together, Mavis walked along the street toward the Armstrong house, in front of which a cargo truck had parked. The words TOLON MOVERS were emblazoned on its side. The truck's bay door was open, and two men clad in sweaters were carrying a dining table up the ramp. As Mavis drew closer, she observed that Mr. Armstrong was standing inside the house, a little way from the front door. Gripping the strap of her backpack, she stepped inside the house without knocking. "Hello, there," the cat man greeted her.
"You're Hank Armstrong, the diplomat," said Mavis with an air of breathless excitement. "Beat told me so much about you."
"You know Beat?" asked Mr. Armstrong as he leaned against a wall.
"We're classmates," Mavis replied. She pulled off her pack and laid it on the floor by her feet. "When I heard you were moving, I knew I had to meet you right away. You see, international diplomacy is a subject that has always fascinated me."
"Really?" Mr. Armstrong mused. "How old are you?"
"I'm nine," Mavis answered. "I understand you've been all over the world. I've traveled to a lot of places as well." She reached down and opened the zipper on her backpack. "I'd like to show you some of the things I've picked up."
Meanwhile, Francine and Beat were still analyzing the events of the past week, looking for any clues that might lead them to an explanation. "I'll tell you what I think," Francine said to Beat. "I think Mr. Putnam brainwashed you, and then made you switch our bodies. I think you did it against your will."
"Maybe so." Beat shook her head. "I don't know anything about brainwashing."
"When I was in Nigeria, I watched this movie with my parents," Francine recounted. "It was about a soldier who was captured by...communists, I think. They brainwashed him and sent him back to America. They used him to kill people. He had to obey them whether he liked it or not. And he never remembered what he did when he was under their power."
"Interesting."
"And there was a surprise at the end. His mother was a communist. She was the one who controlled him the whole time. And when he found out, he killed her."
"Ouch." Beat winced. "Sounds like a creepy movie. What's the title?"
"I don't remember."
Beat started to rub her sore chin. "His own mother. That's insane. On the other hand, the enemy agent is usually the person you least..."
Suddenly Beat's eyes widened. Her jaw dropped, revealing one of her missing bottom teeth. Her expression froze like this for several seconds while her mind spun wildly. "What is it?" Francine asked her.
"It's like a portable slide projector," Mavis informed Mr. Armstrong. They were holding either end of a device that Mavis had pulled from her backpack. It consisted of a central unit--a small, metallic black box with several dials and switches in it--with two black wires emanating from its sides, and terminating in visor-like appendages. "You put it over your eyes, and it shows you pictures of the places I've visited."
"Fascinating." Mr. Armstrong slowly fitted the visor on top of his nose. It appeared to him that he was staring into two mostly overlapping TV screens. The dark fabric of the visor shut out all external light. Mavis followed suit, pulling off her spectacles and placing her own visor over her eyes. Allowing the glasses to dangle over her palm, she grasped the central unit and prepared to flip one of the switches...
...when she suddenly heard a girl's voice shrieking, "Stop!"
She felt the unit being ripped out of her hand, and the visor torn away from her eyes. Quickly replacing her spectacles, she saw Francine and Beat standing between her and Mr. Armstrong. Francine was now cradling the device in her hands, while Beat was running her fingers over one of the visors.
"Does it bring back any memories?" Francine asked Beat. "Is this what you used to switch our bodies?"
"I-I don't know," said Beat with a tone of disappointment.
Mavis became indignant. "Give that back, Francine," she ordered.
Beat took a step toward Mavis and glowered at her. "It was you who wiped my memory," she accused the girl. "That's why I went to your place instead of my own. If I'd lost my memory before going to your house, I would've never thought of going there."
Shock and fright filled Mavis' visage. "That's not true!" she exclaimed.
"It was you who made me switch Francine and Sue Ellen's bodies." Beat's voice grew harsh. "You used some kind of mind-altering device on me. You're mixed up with Mr. Putnam and his wild inventions somehow."
"No! No!" Mavis shook her head desperately. "Give it back!" She lunged at the black device, but Francine leaped backwards to keep it from her hands. Mr. Armstrong looked at Mavis, then at Francine, unsure of what was transpiring.
"I'm not giving it back until you tell us what it does," Francine said menacingly.
"It's for viewing pictures," replied Mavis in a nervous voice. "That's all."
"Is that so?" Francine grinned. She handed Beat one of the visors, and began to place the other over her eyes. "Hey, Beat, what do you say we look at some pictures?"
"No!" shouted Mavis as she grabbed the central unit and tried to wrestle it from Francine's hand. Francine quickly dropped her visor, laid both hands on the unit, and struggled with Mavis for it. Seconds later Mavis let go, apparently afraid that the device might break.
Mavis fought to calm herself while Francine idly wrapped the visor wires around her fingers. "You've got to give it back," she urged. "You don't know how to use it. It's dangerous."
"Francine, I think you should give it back to her," said Mr. Armstrong sternly.
"Don't listen to her, Dad," Francine responded. "For all you know, she's working for your enemies."
"I am not!" Mavis retorted.
For a number of seconds Beat and Francine glared silently at Mavis, who glared back at them. Francine carelessly flipped one of the visors back and forth in her hand. Then Mavis' expression became serious and she began to speak.
"Listen to me...Sue Ellen. If you ever want to return to your own body, you must give me the device and allow me to proceed."
Fear and hope welled up in Francine's heart. She fought them back and tried to compose herself.
"Why should I trust you?" she asked petulantly.
"It's your only chance," Mavis answered.
Francine placed the black device in Beat's hands, then folded her arms and narrowed her eyes at Mavis. "I don't know who you are. You could be a spy who switched bodies with Mavis. You could be trying to switch bodies with my dad. Then you'd have the device, and you'd be a grown man against three little girls."
"I assure you," said Mavis slowly, "I have no intention of hurting any of you. In fact, I'm trying to help you. I want you to have your body back as much as you do. Now give me the device."
Francine's cockiness gave way to uncertainty. Perhaps Mavis was telling the truth, and she would lose all hope of becoming Sue Ellen again unless she cooperated. On the other hand, if Mavis was allowed to continue and turned out to have a sinister agenda, the repercussions for the Armstrong family, and even the nation itself, could be terrible...
Beat gazed at her, anxiously wiggling the device in her hands.
Then Francine made her choice.
(To be continued...)
