Francine stopped Muffy just as the kids were leaving the classroom for morning recess. "I hate to ask again, but can I use your cell phone?" she requested.

"I've only used up 12,000 minutes this month," said Muffy, handing her the phone. "So, what the hey."

Leaning against the side wall of the school, Francine dialed the Marymu Studios number she had obtained from Fern.

"Hello, Mrs. Stiles? This is Francine."

"Hello, Francine," came the woman's delighted voice. "It's nice to hear from you. Thanks for coming to…"

"I want to take over as Mini Moo," Francine told her. "It's my fault Wyatt quit, and I want to make it right."

There was a pause on the line. "That's generous of you, Francine. But I don't need a voice for Mini Moo anymore."

"Why not?"

"The writers have eliminated Mini Moo's speaking parts," Mrs. Stiles explained. "Binky will still get to dance in the background and appear in group scenes, but his character won't have any lines."

"Uh…won't the kids notice?" said Francine in a tone of concern.

"We're talking about three- and four-year-olds," was Mrs. Stiles' response. "A minor character can stop talking, and they won't know the difference."

"You don't have to do this," said Francine earnestly. "I'll take the part. All I need is a little rehearsal…"

"Don't trouble yourself, Francine."

The call ended, and Francine squeezed the cell phone in her fingers, berating herself for what she had done to Wyatt. Nothing left to do but apologize to him, she thought.

She ran across Arthur while going to return the phone to Muffy. "Have you seen my sister?" the boy asked her.

"No," Francine replied. "But if I find her, I'll give her a swift kick in the pants for you."

"I don't know where she got the idea to take pictures of Beat naked," said Arthur. "It wasn't from anyone in the family, that's for sure."

"Has she made any new friends or met any new people lately?" asked Francine.

"Only Dr. Fugue," Arthur replied, "and only for one lesson."

"You don't suppose Dr. Fugue's a…a…"

"Dirty old man?"

"Yeah."

Arthur pondered for a second. "I dunno…I took lessons from him, and he never tried to get me to do anything like that."

"But you're a boy," Francine pointed out.

"Right," said Arthur. "Maybe…maybe he likes to look at pictures of girls."

Francine shuddered.

"I'd better talk to Mom and Dad about him," said Arthur with determination.

Spying on the pair from behind a large tree were D.W. and Rattles, who found it hard not to snicker.

"Arthur and Francine sitting in a tree…" D.W. chanted quietly.

"(Bleep)-I-N-G," Rattles added.

"I got three days' detention for taking those pictures," D.W. told her new friend.

"I'm proud of you," said Rattles.

"The best part is," said D.W., "I don't have to do anything bad for three days. Three school days."

"You do know that detention days are cumulative, right?" said Rattles.

"What's cumulative?"

"That means if you get three days' detention today, and three days' detention tomorrow, you have six days' detention altogether."

D.W. stared blankly at him.

"It's like apples," Rattles told her.

"Oh," said D.W. when she understood. "So I don't have to wait three days to get in trouble again."

"That's right," said Rattles. "And I know something that'll get you in lots of trouble."

"What is it?"

"I'll tell you tomorrow."

At the end of the school day, Fern and Buster held hands as they walked down the street away from the school.

"I'm glad you don't have to go to the studio," Buster remarked. "Now we can see each other more."

"Yeah," Fern agreed. "Spending more time together is one of the keys to successful relationships for young couples, according to Weekly Reader."

Meanwhile, D.W. returned home with Arthur to a cold reception from her parents.

"Principal Haney told me what you did in the girls' locker," Mrs. Read scolded the girl. "That was very, very wrong, and you'll have to be punished."

"You're right, Mom," said D.W. meekly. "I shouldn't have hurt Beat's feelings like that. I deserve to be punished. But please, Mom, please…don't punish me by taking away my piano lessons!"

"Okay," said Mrs. Read.

Darn, thought D.W. with a scowl. Reverse psychology is so overrated.

"Go to your room, young lady," Mrs. Read ordered her.

"I'm not a young lady!" D.W. protested.

"You will be, by the time I let you out of your room," said her mother.

She watched D.W. trudge up the stairway, then turned to Arthur. "All the time she's spending in detention is getting in the way of her lessons," she commented. "At first she hated going to Dr. Fugue, but now it seems like she wants to go. I'll have to ask Frederick if he can arrange for her to take lessons at a different time."

"Uh, about that, Mom…" said Arthur.

"Yes, dear?"

"I've been wondering why D.W. keeps getting in trouble at school. Seems it all started when she went to Dr. Fugue for her first lesson. You don't suppose that…that he's having a bad influence on her?"

Mrs. Read shook her head. "Frederick Fugue is a fine, upstanding man. That business with the two violinist sisters is far behind him. If you ask me, D.W. can only become a better person by taking lessons from him."

Arthur could think of nothing more to say; indeed, he wished he could unsay what he had just said.

"It's true, he's a perfectionist," his mother continued. "But he has a right to be one, because he's the best piano teacher in Elwood City."

Stupid love potion, thought Francine. I should just stay away from witches and magic from now on.

The chair seemed cold underneath her as she stared at the telephone on the wall. I must call him. I need to apologize. Maybe I can't help him, but I'll have the satisfaction of knowing I did the right thing.

She finally stood up, wrapped her fingers around the receiver, and hesitantly dialed the number. "Hello, is Wyatt there?"

"Just a minute," replied a woman's voice.

A minute passed. "Hello, this is Wyatt."

"Wyatt, this is Francine. I…I…I'm sorry."

"Sorry? What did you do?"

"Remember the chocolate candy Dolly gave you? It had a love potion in it. That's what made you fall in love with Binky. So don't worry, you're not gay for him."

Francine heard a sigh on the other end. "That's a relief," came Wyatt's voice.

"I really ruined things for you," Francine went on. "Now you won't be able to continue as Mini Moo's voice."

"No biggie," said Wyatt nonchalantly. "I'm working on other projects as well."

Francine smiled; the worry in her heart subsided. "I hope we can be friends," she told Wyatt.

"I hope so too," was the boy's response. "Because I'd like to borrow some of Dolly's love potion. You see, there's this gay kid at my school, and he doesn't know I exist."

"Goodbye, Wyatt," said Francine, hanging up the receiver.

She sank back into her chair and groaned. Did I do the right thing? she wondered.

Alan's eyelids creaked open. It was Friday morning, and he had enjoyed little sleep. Anxiety about the Brainchildren, his own powers, and the odd manner in which Professor Frink had dealt with him had kept him awake through most of the night.

He had brought only one set of clothes with him, and Marge was washing them. A red shirt and pair of pants that had once belonged to Bart fit him acceptably, if a bit loosely. He laced up his sneakers and shuffled into the hallway, feeling as if he had died and become a zombie sometime around 3 a.m.

He caught a glimpse of Lisa in her room, still snoring, her face turned away from him.

Something was different.

He tiptoed closer to the girl's bed. He was within two feet of the mattress, and the something that had been different was still different.

I don't believe it, he thought. It can't be this good. What if I try waking her up?

He gently tapped on Lisa's shoulder. The spiky-haired girl mumbled, turned over, and opened her round eyes to face him.

"Something wrong, Alan?"

The girl's memories were no longer an open book to him. Indeed, he couldn't perceive them at all.

"No, Lisa," he said in a reverent whisper. "Something's right. I think I've lost my powers."

to be continued