As she passed by the side street leading to Francine's apartment building, she noticed an interesting development. In front of Westboro Apartments sat a moving truck (Tolon Movers, naturally), and two uniformed duck men were engaged in carting a large wooden desk from the truck's cargo bay to the building's entrance.
Hmm, thought Muffy. Francine's getting a new neighbor.
Drawn by curiosity, she hurried down the sidewalk toward the moving truck. When she arrived, one of the men waved a feathery hand at her. "Hi there."
"Hello," said Muffy flatly. Not wanting to flaunt her poor grades to the movers, she quickly folded up the math test and stuffed it into her pocket.
"Tisk, tisk, Muffy," she heard a female voice taunt. "D minus. Surely you can do better."
Turning, Muffy saw a blond rabbit woman standing next to the building entrance, wearing a chartreuse blouse and short skirt. She immediately recognized both the woman and her clothing--the recently befriended Augusta Winslow, and the blouse-skirt combo that Muffy had helped her to select at the mall.
"A-Augusta?" stammered Muffy with astonished delight. "Y-you're moving here?"
"Yes," Augusta replied, signaling for her to enter. "Come in and have a look at my new pad."
Muffy followed her into the building, eager to hear about the welfare of her new friend who had endured such drastic changes in her life. "I thought you were going back to Salem," she asked Augusta while accompanying her up the stairway.
"I changed my mind." The rabbit woman was wearing a pair of size-nine sneakers that she had chosen on her own--quite a drop from the size fourteens she had sported in her previous body. "I like Elwood. Less crime, less traffic, friendlier people."
"But what will you do?" asked Muffy earnestly. "I mean, for work."
"I haven't decided," said Augusta as she started to rip open one of the boxes that had been laid next to the door of her new apartment. "My museum blew up, so I can't do that anymore." She pulled from the opened box a plastic container filled with a powdered blue substance. "With my new powers I could be a stage magician, but I don't want to attract too much attention to the fact that I'm the last surviving Wicasta. So I'll find some menial day job, and everybody will think I'm just one of the girls."
A thought sprang up in Muffy's brain. "Real estate," she suggested to Augusta, who was resting the container on a wall shelf. "Everyone's talking about moving to Elwood City, what with the ten crime-free days and all. You could sell houses and make a killing."
"Real estate," Augusta mused. "Hmm...that would require me to wear makeup." Her expression appeared slightly pained.
Muffy noted this, and it concerned her. "You...you aren't happy about being a woman, are you?" she asked with trepidation.
Augusta's face became more pained. "How can I explain this to you?" she said with a hint of irritation. "You see, there's this thing that women go through, and I hoped I would have a month to prepare for it, but..."
To her relief, Muffy fell silent and gazed at her with something resembling understanding and compassion.
But only for a second. "You know what you need?" the girl spoke up. "You need to get your ears pierced. I think you'd look great with a pair of star earrings."
"Listen, Muffy," said Augusta sharply. "You're a little girl. If you turned into a little boy like Dolly did, you'd hardly feel a difference. That's not how it is when you're grown up."
It soon became evident to her that whenever Muffy stopped talking, it was out of confusion rather than sympathy.
"It doesn't hurt at all," Muffy babbled. "You walk in, you get pierced, you walk out. It's easy for you because you're an adult. I had to beg my mom for weeks to let me..."
"Oh, shut up," growled Augusta, waving her hand at Muffy's face.
Muffy stood still, her mouth hanging open stupidly, consternated by her sudden inability to will herself to speak.
Augusta sighed with elation and went to retrieve another container from the opened box. As she did so, a twelve-year-old, red-haired cat girl stepped into the apartment, wearing a green dress and a broad smile. Muffy was startled beyond belief at her appearance, but could force no sound to come out of her gaping mouth.
"Muffy!" exclaimed the girl with delight, then caught herself. "Uh, I mean, you must be Muffy Crosswire, the rich girl Quinn hates so much. Nice to meet you. I'm April Murphy."
The cat girl extended her hand to Muffy, who was thoroughly convinced that she had leaped forward in time and come face to face with a future version of her departed friend, Sue Ellen.
With another wave of her hand, Augusta lifted the curse of speechlessness from Muffy. "Omigosh," the monkey girl blurted out. "I...I heard so much about you, but...I had no idea...you look exactly like her..."
April nodded knowingly. "They all say that. Who knows? Maybe I'm a clone of her, or she's a clone of me."
With a bit of hesitation, Muffy took the older girl's hand and shook it. "Where do you live?" she inquired.
"I'm staying with Augusta for the time being." April started to pull open one of the cardboard boxes as the duck movers arrived in the hallway with the desk.
As Muffy backed against a wall to make room for the movers, she asked April, "Where are your parents?"
April showed no emotion as she lifted a container of dried herbs from the box and replied, "They're dead."
Muffy lowered her head out of respect. "I'm sorry to hear that. So you're an orphan."
"Yes," said April, carrying the container to a shelf, "but I know how to take care of myself. I don't belong in a foster home or an orphanage."
At a loss for words, Muffy reached into her pocket and ran her fingers over the folded math test. "Uh, I guess I should go now," she said wearily. "I have a lot of studying to do."
"What are you studying?" asked April with the casual glibness of a longtime friend.
"Everything," answered Muffy, inching toward the door. "Whatever I can get my hands on. The flowers are in bloom, but the only thing I'll get to smell this month is dried ink on the pages of a book. I'll see you two later."
"I'm sure you'll pass fourth grade," Augusta reassured her.
Wondering how the alchemist-turned-witch knew so much about her scholastic difficulties, Muffy started toward the door...and almost ran into Francine.
"Hi, Muffy. I saw you..." Francine stopped in mid-sentence, alarmed to see April bent over one of the boxes. "Sue Ellen, you're...uh, hi, April. I wondered if I'd ever see you again."
April glared darkly at her and motioned toward the opened bedroom door. Francine anxiously followed her into the room, where the movers had assembled the bed frame, and closed the door after them.
She easily interpreted April's scolding expression. "I'm sorry," she said contritely. "It slipped out. I thought you'd left forever."
"Don't ever call me by that name again," said April slowly but firmly.
Francine meekly lowered her face. "Okay, April."
The cat girl's expression softened slightly.
"Last time we talked, you said something important was about to happen," Francine ventured to ask. "Did it happen?"
"No more questions about the future," April barked softly.
Francine's head sank even lower. Then April smiled warmly.
"Come here, you." She threw her arms around Francine and pulled the girl closer.
----
Fern was sitting in front of her computer when the doorbell rang. Quickly deleting an email from Greta von Horstein recounting her efforts to overturn the ban on her future visits to Elwood City, the poodle girl bounded to the door and peered through the peephole. A welcome pair of antlers greeted her eyes.
"Hi, George."
"Can I use your computer, Fern?" requested the moose boy as he stepped through the doorway. "I need to do a web search."
"Go ahead." Fern gestured toward the computer desk. "I'll watch TV."
"Thanks," said George. "I can't do web searches on my computer. My parents only let Salma and me go to silly baby sites like George seated himself and opened a search engine window, Fern planted herself on the couch and started to experiment with the remote. "News... junk...reality...junk...cartoons...junk...ooh, Pride and Prejudice!"
Hearing grunts of frustration, she looked away from the Jane Austen drama unfolding on the large screen. "What are you looking for, George?"
The boy swiveled and scowled. "There's this doctor in Philadelphia called Dr. Portinari, and I'm trying to find information about him."
"Sounds Italian," Fern mused. "What kind of doctor is he?"
"He's a...a..." George finally blurted out the first medical specialization that popped into his head. "A gynecologist."
Fern's ears perked up with interest. "A gynecologist...hmm..."
"Yeah, you know," George responded. "A doctor who treats guys."
A half minute passed, and George was still at a dead end. Fern, meanwhile, jumped from the couch and hurried to the garage, where her father was lying underneath the family car, fastening a bolt with a crescent wrench.
"Dad," she called quietly. Mr. Walters rolled into the open, his head and floppy ears stained with engine grease.
Fern glanced about warily before sharing her newly obtained secret.
"George's mom is having a baby."
TBC
