"Don't worry, Dolly," replied Francine, who was visiting the witch girl shortly before the start of school on Monday morning. "Nobody will mistake you for a boy. And you've got to wear something."
Dolly, clad only in the petticoat she had initially appeared in, shoved a nightgown into a suitcase with the rest of the clothes she had borrowed from Muffy. "I refuse to go to school dressed like a boy," she said haughtily. "They have enough reasons to despise and mock me; I shan't give them another."
Francine lay down the blouse and jeans on the dresser in the Powers guest bedroom. "They aren't boy's clothes," she explained. "Maybe in the seventeenth century girls were expected to wear dresses all the time, but it's not that way anymore."
Closing the suitcase, Dolly answered firmly, "I shall wear pants when boys wear dresses, and not before."
"Come on, Dolly!" Francine urged her impatiently. "I don't have time to go back and get you a dress. School's about to start."
"Then let it start without me," said Dolly, flinging the suitcase into Francine's arms. "And tell Muffy I thank her kindly for the use of her garments."
Francine grabbed the suitcase in one hand, and used the other to open the guest bedroom door. "You're not supposed to skip school, you know," she told Dolly before closing the door behind her.
She found Alan in the living room, stuffing science books into his backpack. "How did it go?" he asked her, smiling.
"She's even more anti-pants than Muffy," said Francine with a groan of despair. "But what can you expect from someone who grew up in the seventeenth century?"
"Don't tell me you believe her," said Alan as he fastened the zipper on his pack and threw it over his shoulder.
Francine grabbed her own pack from the floor, and started to follow Alan out of the house, still clutching the suitcase with Muffy's clothes. "Well, she obviously has magical powers," she went on. "You've seen what she can do. And that love potion was something else. I knew when I fell in love with you that the potion was making me do it, but I couldn't control it at all. It's like I was possessed." She sighed wistfully. "And after all this I'm still in love with Arthur, and he still doesn't feel a thing for me."
"I'm just glad I didn't get any of the potion," said Alan seriously. "I hate to think who I might have fallen in love with."
As they drew near to the Lakewood Elementary entrance, they saw Quinn Cooper's Buick parked at the curb, with Odette unfolding Van's wheelchair. Nearby stood the distraught-looking Binky, who was enduring more taunts from his tough customer friends, Molly and Rattles. "Mini Moo Cow, Mini Moo Cow, we love you, Mini Moo..." they sang derisively.
"Lay off, guys," Binky protested weakly. "I quit the show, okay?"
"Oh, but you'll always be Mini Moo to us," said Molly with insincere sweetness.
Rattles stuck up his fingers like horns, and placed them on the sides of his head. "Hey, watch me," he joked. "I can count to ten. One...two..." Each time he counted off a number, he scraped the sidewalk with the sole of his shoe.
Odette overheard the exchange while helping Van into his chair, and decided to do something about it. As Van rolled up the ramp and Quinn waited in the driver's seat, the swan girl approached Molly and Rattles, stretched her neck as high as it would go, and glared sternly down at the pair.
"I don't like it when you talk to my boyfriend that way," she chided them.
At first Rattles and Molly became nervous at the sight of an older and much, much taller girl standing over them...until they realized that about eighteen inches of her height was nothing more than excess neck.
While Binky expressed surprise that Odette had come to his defense, the tough customer kids glared up at her with defiance. "I didn't hear nobody ask for your opinion," snarled Rattles.
"You didn't hear anybody," Odette corrected him.
"Oh, now you're my English teacher," Rattles shot back.
"Were you always a swan," Molly asked Odette, "or were you born an ugly dorkling?"
Odette's indignation grew as rapidly as Quinn's impatience. Clenching her feathery fists, she warned, "I'll give you three seconds to either take back what you just said, or start running."
Molly's tone remained petulant. "And what if I don't? You ballet geeks don't scare..."
Before she could finish, Odette's neck swung down like a hammer, and the tough rabbit girl felt the painful sensation of a swan beak striking the top of her head. "OOOWWW!" she cried in fear and agony. Odette pecked her three more times, messing up her hair until her eyes almost became visible, before she managed to raise her arms to protect herself. But it was in vain, for Odette's beak had too much momentum behind it. Her head threatening to turn into a mass of lumps, Molly did the wisest thing she could think of--she ran away as fast as she could.
Then Odette glowered at Rattles and folded her arms. "Am I a ballet geek?" she asked simply.
"Er, ah, no," stuttered the terrified Rattles. "B-ballet's cool. I, uh, like to watch it."
"Good," said Odette, smirking. "Then I'll expect to see you at the recital this coming weekend."
Rattles took a few hesitant steps away from Odette, then started to run after Molly. Sighing with relief, Odette relaxed her neck into its usual curved position. "Is it true?" Binky asked, looking up at her. "Am I your boyfriend again?"
"You're a boy, and you're my friend," Odette told him. "I gotta go now." As Binky watched in discouragement, the swan girl climbed into her sister's Buick and was quickly speeding away--but not before Binky caught a glimpse of some familiar-looking orange hair puffs in the front passenger seat of the vehicle.
"No, it can't be," he thought, shaking his head.
Francine and Alan walked past him with a friendly greeting, and passed through the doors of the school building. They didn't get far before noticing that a familiar face had returned...
"It's Mr. Haney!" exclaimed Francine.
"He's back!" enthused Alan. "He's better!"
Indeed, Principal Herbert Haney was standing in front of his office, talking to several students with a somewhat scratchy voice. As Alan stepped closer, he noted that the other kids were his classmates Floyd Walton, Bonnie Chandler, and Max Alwyn.
"Here he comes now," said Floyd bitterly when he saw Alan walk up. "The traitor."
Alan felt his stomach twist. The fifth-graders in his class had always resented him to a degree because he outperformed them academically despite being a year younger...but the recent replacement of their teacher had raised the tension another notch.
"I'm glad you're back, Mr. Haney," said Alan, ignoring the scowls directed at him.
"What was wrong with you?" asked Francine, who had followed Alan.
"Just a bout of pneumonia," rasped Principal Haney. "Nothing bed rest, fluids, antibiotics, and a few lollipops wouldn't cure."
Bonnie turned to Alan with fire in her eyes. "We were just explaining how you and The Rat conspired to get rid of Mr. Baker," she informed him.
"And now we're totally stuck with Her Royal Dorkness, Mrs. Krantz," Max complained.
"Now, now, children, it's not Alan's fault," Mr. Haney tried to calm them. "The school board made the decision to fire Mr. Baker, and I agree with it. Mrs. Krantz is a fine teacher, and you may find her a little strange at first, but the important thing is, you'll learn."
"Sitting through one of her lessons is like being licked by a moose for an hour," Floyd complained. "How am I supposed to learn anything?"
"Hey, let's make Alan the teacher," Bonnie suggested. "He's smarter than all of us put together."
"Great idea," agreed Max, turning to Alan. "Dude, you are hereby appointed to teach us."
For a brief moment Alan was tempted by the proposal, but he knew it wasn't at all realistic. There was no easy way out of the situation, but fifth grade would be over in three short months...
"What do you say, Alan?" Floyd encouraged him.
Alan grinned facetiously. "Okaaaay."
TBC
