It was Monday, the first day of the sixth week of the school year, and Alan looked as if he had swallowed a storm cloud. The expression of worried gloom on his face seemed to drain the joy from every kid at Lakewood who gazed upon him.
Even Molly and Rattles took note as he walked past. "What's eating him?" Molly wondered.
"Maybe a famous scientist died," said Rattles facetiously.
No one dared ask him to share his troubles, except for a little first-grader with flowing brown hair--D.W. Read. The aardvark girl stepped in front of him, made doe-eyes, and inquired, "Why so sad, lad?"
Alan raised his head a bit and grinned slightly. "Where'd you hear that?"
"I made it up," said D.W. proudly. "But it only works for boys. Now if I can just think of a good word that rhymes with 'lass'..."
As Alan regarded the little girl's face, it seemed to radiate an unequivocal message--"I'm here if you need me." Only during the last few months had he grown to consider D.W. as a confidant, as someone who would respect him no matter what mistakes he made or what secrets he shared. Perhaps it was only because she was in first grade, and had yet to discover the joys of gossip. He recalled the ominous pronouncement of his time-traveling son, Jason, that D.W. would one day be his wife. At the time the idea of marrying Arthur's bratty sister had appalled him. Yet here she was, a year older, in the process of making the transition from 'cute' to 'pretty'...
"Walk with me," said Alan, placing his arm around the smaller girl's neck.
As they strolled in circles about the center court, he tried his best to explain his anxieties. "Something's wrong with Prunella. When she woke up on Saturday, she thought it was Friday. When she woke up on Sunday, she thought it was Friday. When she woke up this morning, the same thing. She thinks every day is Friday."
"Whoa," D.W. marveled. "Isn't that, like, the secret of happiness?"
"That's not what I'm talking about," Alan went on. "She forgets days. She doesn't remember anything that happened to her over the weekend."
"Maybe she has, like, insomnia," D.W. suggested.
"Amnesia," Alan corrected her. "I had...I mean, she had amnesia right after the accident, but she got over that. This is different."
"Why doesn't she, like, go to a doctor, or whatever?"
"She's going to get a CAT scan today."
D.W. smiled thoughtfully. "A CAT scan..."
"I mean a C-A-T scan."
"I know how to spell 'cat', duh."
"C-A-T stands for computerized axial tomography," Alan informed her.
"Whatever," said D.W.
"The doctors will take a picture of the inside of her brain," Alan explained.
"Eww!" D.W. grimaced. "Can I have a copy?"
Conversing with the little girl helped to lift Alan's spirits, and he carried his head a little higher as he entered Mr. Boughton's classroom. Next to his desk were those occupied by Marina and Mickie, as well as the distressingly empty one where Prunella customarily sat.
"Hi, Alan," said Marina, who had heard the boy unload his book bag. "Any news about Prunella?"
"Not yet," Alan told the blind rabbit girl.
"It's only a knock on the head,' said Mickie flippantly. "She'll pull through."
The teacher, a zebra man, started the class period with a roll call. "Prunella Prufrock is not with us today due to medical reasons," he announced. "We all wish her the best. Now, as many of you know, the Lakewood Elementary school board has decided to form a student council."
Mickie smiled confidently.
"Each classroom will elect one boy and one girl to act as representatives on the council," Mr. Boughton continued. "The secretary and treasurer will be appointed by the council, and the student body president will be chosen by popular vote."
Lucy de los Santos, a spiky-haired monkey girl, raised her hand. "Does that mean, like, the most popular kid wins?"
"No," the teacher answered. "The word 'popular' comes from the Latin word 'populus', which means 'of the people'." He wrote the word 'populus' on the blackboard. "'Popular vote' means vote of the people. 'Popular music' means music of the people. 'Pop music' means music for people who think the word 'popular' has too many syllables."
In Mrs. Krantz' classroom, the moose woman was presenting the same information, although with fewer digressions. "Remember, even if you're not elected to the student council, you can still run for student body president, okaaaay? We'll start with the boy representative. Who do you want to nominate?"
Francine immediately raised her hand. "I nominate Arthur."
The aardvark boy, seated a desk ahead of her, turned around and scowled.
"I second the nomination," Sue Ellen chimed in, and Mrs. Krantz started to write Arthur's name on the board.
"I nominate Buster," said Beat, raising her hand.
"Second," said Binky.
"Any more nominations?" asked the teacher, but the kids were silent. "Then we'll go on to the girl representative."
"I nominate Francine," said Arthur without hesitation.
The monkey girl waved her fist. "Go ahead," she said menacingly. "Second the nomination. I dare you."
After a few seconds of fearful silence, George raised his hand. "I, uh, nominate Fern."
"Second," added Binky.
"I nominate Beat," said Van, whose upper beak was still in a cast.
"Second," said Binky.
"I nominate myself," Muffy spoke up.
"Second," said Binky.
"Sorry," said Mrs. Krantz. "You can't nominate yourself."
Muffy turned to Binky and glared impatiently. "Well? What are you waiting for?"
Once the nomination process was complete, Mrs. Krantz took the votes. "All in favor of Arthur Read for boy representative, raise your hands." Five hands went up. "All in favor of Buster Baxter for boy representative, raise your hands." Six hands went up, including Arthur's. "All in favor of Fern Walters as girl representative, raise your hands." Six hands were raised. "All in favor of Beatrice Simon as girl representative, raise your hands." Five hands were raised.
"Congratulations, Buster and Fern," she proclaimed, "newly elected members of the Lakewood Elementary student council."
"Cool," said Fern and Buster in unison.
The remainder of the period was devoted to a lesson on how to write Japanese haiku, and the kids started to leave the classroom.
"It's nice to not have you in my head anymore," Francine remarked to Sue Ellen. "Now I can threaten people again." The cat girl rolled her eyes.
Arthur had just stuffed his books into his bag when Mrs. Krantz tapped his shoulder and drew him aside. "Why did you vote against yourself?" she wanted to know.
"I don't want to be on the student council," the aardvark boy replied acerbically. "All they do is hold bake sales to raise money for parties and stuff."
"The student council at my last school did a lot more than that," said his teacher. "They published the school newspaper, they helped at athletic events, they volunteered at the county fair, they washed cars to raise money for a new auditorium. Wouldn't you like the school to have a new auditorium, Arthur?"
"Uh, I guess so," the boy mused. "The one we have now isn't big enough."
"The student council gives kids a way to improve the school and the community," Mrs. Krantz went on. "It's a lot of fun."
"Hmm." Arthur fell into deep thought. "I can think of some ways to improve the school. Less homework. Clean up the graffiti. Fix the drinking fountains so kids don't have to suck on them. Get rid of that crossing guard who makes phony threats all the time."
"Those are very good ideas," said the moose woman. "Maybe you should run for student body president."
"I'll think about it," said Arthur noncommittally.
----
As soon as the bell rang to usher in afternoon recess, Alan jumped onto his bicycle and pedaled furiously to Prunella's house, anxious to hear the results of the girl's CAT scan. He felt like his nerves were wrapping around his throat and strangling him, and had to constantly reassure himself that nothing was seriously wrong with his friend.
The mood was somber in the living room of the old house. Mrs. Prufrock was in the easy chair, stroking the curly hair of the distraught-looking Prunella, who sat sideways in her lap. Alan could sense his heart icing over as he slowly walked forward.
"How bad?" he inquired nervously.
Prunella slowly turned her rat nose toward him. "Very bad," she said in a cold, bitter tone.
"The brain damage is more extensive than the doctors originally thought," her mother related. "Her ability to process short-term memories is impaired. That's why she keeps waking up and thinking it's last Friday."
"How long will she be like this?" was Alan's next question.
"They don't know," Mrs. Prufrock answered. "Years, maybe."
Everything Alan had feared was now reality. Prunella's life was ruined. His tender young mind could hardly bear it.
He reached forward in the slim hope that skin contact might alleviate the rat girl's misery, but she recoiled slightly. "I don't feel like talking to you right now," she grumbled. "Come back tomorrow, when I've forgotten what you did to me."
"Now, now, Prunie," gushed her mother. "Don't blame Alan. It's not his fault."
"I'm afraid it is my fault, Mrs. Prufrock," Alan admitted sadly.
Choked with emotion, he could remain in the house no longer. "Wait!" the rat woman called after him as he hurried away.
The sun seemed to glower upon Alan as he shuffled along the sidewalk. He had never known such unhappiness. His life was turning into a stage tragedy. Only a few days had passed since his sister Tegan had been separated from him forever, and now Prunella's mind lay in ruins, a victim of his foolish choices.
Drunken with the prospect of wonders beyond the realm of normal human experience, he had persuaded Prunella to trade bodies with him for a brief period. He hadn't considered the complications and responsibilities that came with borrowing another person's body. He had thoughtlessly raced into a city street in pursuit of the fleeing Tegan, only to be struck down by a bus. His memories scrambled, he had forgotten even the fact that he was really a boy. Upon recovering his identity, he had immediately employed the Opticron device to reverse the body switch, then destroyed it. He should have been smart enough to recognize the danger of using the Opticron on a brain-injured subject, and spent a few weeks, months if necessary, recuperating in Prunella's body.
He tried to look at the bright side. Perhaps the Opticron hadn't caused the additional brain damage. Prunella's body had been quite active in the days following the accident, in spite of the doctor's orders to rest. It was conceivable that if he had chosen to remain as Prunella until her brain healed, her fate might have become his own--to grow in body but not in mind, to live out a woman's life but remain a child. It would be hell, but at least no one would be forced to share it with him.
He wished he could make things right by giving Prunella his body again, so she could have a life. But the Opticron was gone, and so was Tegan.
----
to be continued