Sell the mansion. The words cut through Muffy's heart like a flaming arrow.
"But I've always lived here," she protested. "I don't want to live anywhere else."
"We need the money to keep the business afloat," her father explained.
He said it with such finality that Muffy could plainly see there was no way out. She would have to adjust to a new place of residence...a new neighborhood...new school...new friends...
"I understand, Dad," she said sadly. "If it's to keep Crosswire Motors going, I'm willing to move into a smaller mansion."
"We won't be moving into a mansion at all," Mrs. Crosswire informed her. "Until things pick up, we may have to content ourselves with a condominium."
The flaming arrowhead in Muffy's heart plunged in deeper. A tiny condo with a tiny bedroom? No room for paintings or ornate sculptures? No servants? Would she have to clean her own room?
"I can take this," she told herself repeatedly. "I lived through worse when I ran away with Angela." But this was different--it would affect her parents and baby brother as well.
Seeing Muffy's glum expression, her mother switched over to the couch where the girl sat and placed comforting arms around her. "We'll be all right, dear," she said softly.
"I know, Mom," Muffy answered. "It's just that I always wondered what our lives would be like if we were poor like everybody else, and now I'm going to find out...and I'm afraid."
"We're not going to be poor," Mrs. Crosswire ensured her. "Just less rich."
Her comfortable existence falling to pieces before her eyes, Muffy could think of only one thing to do. Pushing her mother's arms away, she jumped down to the floor. "I'm going to take a walk," she announced morosely.
"Don't go too far," said Mrs. Crosswire.
As the crestfallen girl walked toward the pine doors of what would soon no longer be her home, she heard her father discussing a matter with her mother. "Craig refuses to do business with me. He thinks I'm untrustworthy. I'll have to find a new agent--someone who's good enough to negotiate a fair price for the mansion, but doesn't cost too much."
Shuffling aimlessly down the sidewalk, Muffy tried to forget her own misfortune by bringing to mind someone whose troubles were far greater--her friend Augusta. Thrust into a new body, forced to begin life anew, blessed with powers she feared to take advantage of--Augusta Winslow definitely needed a big break, like the Crosswire account. Muffy knew she had to contact Augusta quickly, before her father made other arrangements. But her friend was probably too busy readying herself for her first date as a female, a meeting over coffee with a fellow from Philadelphia named...
The swelling had gone down around George's right eye, as the boy observed with satisfaction while gazing into the mirror. Hearing a knock at the door, he called out, "Sal, get that."
A moment later his sister hurried into his bedroom and informed him, "Georgie, it's Muffy."
The first thing Muffy did when George greeted her was to run her fingers over the sore flesh around his eye. "It's getting better," she remarked. "I've got something you can cover it up with."
"No, but thanks anyway," replied George.
"I came here to ask you something," said Muffy, lowering her hand. "The other day in class you said you were looking for some doctor from Philadelphia."
"Yeah, Dr. Portinari," responded George, his interest piqued.
Muffy snapped her fingers. "That's his name," she realized.
"You know him?" asked George.
"Not personally," Muffy answered. "But it so happens that Augusta Winslow has a date with him today."
George's eyes widened. "Augusta? You mean the guy who turned into..."
"Yes, him. I mean, her."
"Where? When?" George's voice rose to an urgent pitch.
"At noon, at the Muffin Man."
George glanced quickly at his watch. "Thanks, Muffy," he said with elation. "That's all I need to know."
"It's more than you need to know," Muffy silently realized. Had she given away too much?
Relief washed over George as he watched Muffy walk out of his house. Finally, a concrete lead in the strange case of the alien invaders...
----
The Muffin Man Coffeehouse had been open for a month, in a lot half a block from the Sugar Bowl. An old koala man named Mr. Holden operated the establishment, and was fighting a moderately successful battle against the nearby Snarebucks outlet with his advertising slogan, "I Got Plenty o' Muffin".
Unbeknownst to his parents and sister, George had waited at an inconspicuous corner table since 11:30 a.m., eager and determined to learn all he could about the mysterious Dr. Portinari. The smell of coffee filled the little shop as numerous customers filed in, attracted by the homemade pastries and over one hundred different variations on a cup of joe.
At about 11:45, Mr. Holden stepped up to George's table and eyed the boy curiously. "Are you waiting for your parents, mate?" he asked in a gravelly voice.
"Um, yes," George lied. "They'll be here at twelve."
"G'day, then," said the koala man, smiling. As he turned away, George could hear him muttering, "So I'm running a bloody day care center now."
11:50. 11:55. Being a little boy, George naturally grew impatient, but was determined to see his plan through. At 11:57, someone hurried through the coffeehouse door whom he had hoped not to see. Muffy.
Spotting the moose boy, she quickly seated herself across the table from him. "What are you doing here?" she asked scoldingly.
"I want to meet Dr. Portinari," replied George, who was beginning to feel anxious.
"You don't just walk up to someone who's on a date and introduce yourself," Muffy chided him. "It's impolite."
"Then what are you doing here?" asked George, turning the tables on the girl.
Muffy pulled a small notebook and ball-point pen from her pocket. "I'm here to observe Augusta's poise and posture, write down her mistakes, and help her to improve."
"Okay," said George. "You watch her, and I'll watch Dr. Portinari."
"Why are you so interested in him?" inquired Muffy.
While George tried to fabricate a reason, Muffy turned her head in surprise upon seeing Augusta step through the coffeehouse entrance in a pair of white high-heeled shoes. She wore the same floral dress she had utilized for her first day as a real estate agent, and her blond hair was set in place with clips. Noticing Muffy's presence, she smiled and winked.
The monkey girl watched her with dreamy eyes. "She's beautiful," she marveled. "But her toes are pointing outward." She quickly scribbled a line on her notepad.
Augusta was followed by a black-haired bulldog man in a gray suit. "That's him," Muffy notified George. "That's Portinari."
Disappointment flooded George's heart. Dr. Portinari appeared to him as an ordinary person, scarcely distinguishable from hundreds of others he had seen. No scales, no green skin, no oversized forehead, no tentacle nose. Nothing to suggest he might be extraterrestrial in origin.
Had Buster been mistaken about him?
TBC
"But I've always lived here," she protested. "I don't want to live anywhere else."
"We need the money to keep the business afloat," her father explained.
He said it with such finality that Muffy could plainly see there was no way out. She would have to adjust to a new place of residence...a new neighborhood...new school...new friends...
"I understand, Dad," she said sadly. "If it's to keep Crosswire Motors going, I'm willing to move into a smaller mansion."
"We won't be moving into a mansion at all," Mrs. Crosswire informed her. "Until things pick up, we may have to content ourselves with a condominium."
The flaming arrowhead in Muffy's heart plunged in deeper. A tiny condo with a tiny bedroom? No room for paintings or ornate sculptures? No servants? Would she have to clean her own room?
"I can take this," she told herself repeatedly. "I lived through worse when I ran away with Angela." But this was different--it would affect her parents and baby brother as well.
Seeing Muffy's glum expression, her mother switched over to the couch where the girl sat and placed comforting arms around her. "We'll be all right, dear," she said softly.
"I know, Mom," Muffy answered. "It's just that I always wondered what our lives would be like if we were poor like everybody else, and now I'm going to find out...and I'm afraid."
"We're not going to be poor," Mrs. Crosswire ensured her. "Just less rich."
Her comfortable existence falling to pieces before her eyes, Muffy could think of only one thing to do. Pushing her mother's arms away, she jumped down to the floor. "I'm going to take a walk," she announced morosely.
"Don't go too far," said Mrs. Crosswire.
As the crestfallen girl walked toward the pine doors of what would soon no longer be her home, she heard her father discussing a matter with her mother. "Craig refuses to do business with me. He thinks I'm untrustworthy. I'll have to find a new agent--someone who's good enough to negotiate a fair price for the mansion, but doesn't cost too much."
Shuffling aimlessly down the sidewalk, Muffy tried to forget her own misfortune by bringing to mind someone whose troubles were far greater--her friend Augusta. Thrust into a new body, forced to begin life anew, blessed with powers she feared to take advantage of--Augusta Winslow definitely needed a big break, like the Crosswire account. Muffy knew she had to contact Augusta quickly, before her father made other arrangements. But her friend was probably too busy readying herself for her first date as a female, a meeting over coffee with a fellow from Philadelphia named...
The swelling had gone down around George's right eye, as the boy observed with satisfaction while gazing into the mirror. Hearing a knock at the door, he called out, "Sal, get that."
A moment later his sister hurried into his bedroom and informed him, "Georgie, it's Muffy."
The first thing Muffy did when George greeted her was to run her fingers over the sore flesh around his eye. "It's getting better," she remarked. "I've got something you can cover it up with."
"No, but thanks anyway," replied George.
"I came here to ask you something," said Muffy, lowering her hand. "The other day in class you said you were looking for some doctor from Philadelphia."
"Yeah, Dr. Portinari," responded George, his interest piqued.
Muffy snapped her fingers. "That's his name," she realized.
"You know him?" asked George.
"Not personally," Muffy answered. "But it so happens that Augusta Winslow has a date with him today."
George's eyes widened. "Augusta? You mean the guy who turned into..."
"Yes, him. I mean, her."
"Where? When?" George's voice rose to an urgent pitch.
"At noon, at the Muffin Man."
George glanced quickly at his watch. "Thanks, Muffy," he said with elation. "That's all I need to know."
"It's more than you need to know," Muffy silently realized. Had she given away too much?
Relief washed over George as he watched Muffy walk out of his house. Finally, a concrete lead in the strange case of the alien invaders...
----
The Muffin Man Coffeehouse had been open for a month, in a lot half a block from the Sugar Bowl. An old koala man named Mr. Holden operated the establishment, and was fighting a moderately successful battle against the nearby Snarebucks outlet with his advertising slogan, "I Got Plenty o' Muffin".
Unbeknownst to his parents and sister, George had waited at an inconspicuous corner table since 11:30 a.m., eager and determined to learn all he could about the mysterious Dr. Portinari. The smell of coffee filled the little shop as numerous customers filed in, attracted by the homemade pastries and over one hundred different variations on a cup of joe.
At about 11:45, Mr. Holden stepped up to George's table and eyed the boy curiously. "Are you waiting for your parents, mate?" he asked in a gravelly voice.
"Um, yes," George lied. "They'll be here at twelve."
"G'day, then," said the koala man, smiling. As he turned away, George could hear him muttering, "So I'm running a bloody day care center now."
11:50. 11:55. Being a little boy, George naturally grew impatient, but was determined to see his plan through. At 11:57, someone hurried through the coffeehouse door whom he had hoped not to see. Muffy.
Spotting the moose boy, she quickly seated herself across the table from him. "What are you doing here?" she asked scoldingly.
"I want to meet Dr. Portinari," replied George, who was beginning to feel anxious.
"You don't just walk up to someone who's on a date and introduce yourself," Muffy chided him. "It's impolite."
"Then what are you doing here?" asked George, turning the tables on the girl.
Muffy pulled a small notebook and ball-point pen from her pocket. "I'm here to observe Augusta's poise and posture, write down her mistakes, and help her to improve."
"Okay," said George. "You watch her, and I'll watch Dr. Portinari."
"Why are you so interested in him?" inquired Muffy.
While George tried to fabricate a reason, Muffy turned her head in surprise upon seeing Augusta step through the coffeehouse entrance in a pair of white high-heeled shoes. She wore the same floral dress she had utilized for her first day as a real estate agent, and her blond hair was set in place with clips. Noticing Muffy's presence, she smiled and winked.
The monkey girl watched her with dreamy eyes. "She's beautiful," she marveled. "But her toes are pointing outward." She quickly scribbled a line on her notepad.
Augusta was followed by a black-haired bulldog man in a gray suit. "That's him," Muffy notified George. "That's Portinari."
Disappointment flooded George's heart. Dr. Portinari appeared to him as an ordinary person, scarcely distinguishable from hundreds of others he had seen. No scales, no green skin, no oversized forehead, no tentacle nose. Nothing to suggest he might be extraterrestrial in origin.
Had Buster been mistaken about him?
TBC
