"Let's go over your story one more time," said Officer Pinsky, who was driving the squad car. "You used to be a man, a witch's spell turned you into a woman, a wish on a unicorn's horn made you have a baby, and another wish made Van able to walk and turned him into a girl."
"Yes," said Augusta, nodding. "That sums it up pretty nicely."
Officer Jones glanced back at the rabbit woman through the metal grating that separated the two policewomen from the backseat passenger. "Well, let's hope there are no more witches or unicorns out there," she said patronizingly. "We wouldn't want all the men to get transformed into women. There's enough competition for boyfriends as it is."
"You think it's tough here?" said Augusta. "Try the town I came from—Salem, Massachusetts."
"Salem, eh?" mused Officer Pinsky. "That explains the whole witch thing, then."
"I should keep you around," joked Officer Jones. "I wouldn't mind getting turned into a man every four weeks."
While Augusta wondered what her fate would be, Odette and her parents returned to their home with Vanessa in tow. Logan and Dallin were astonished to see that the Van-like girl had reappeared, this time wearing a blue dress and brown wig.
"What's she doing here?" Logan protested.
"Vanessa is going to stay with us for a few days," replied Mr. Cooper. "We have reason to believe she knows what happened to Van."
"Mel, would you mind watching the kids?" said his wife, turning back toward the door. "I have one more thing to attend to."
"Certainly, Valerie."
With Mrs. Cooper gone and Mr. Cooper attending to baby Megan's needs, Odette, Logan, and Dallin were left to marvel at Vanessa's appearance and behavior.
"Look at her beak," Dallin observed. "It's broken in the exact same place Van's was."
"Dude, this is totally unreal," said Logan eloquently. "Does Van have, like, an identical twin sister?"
"It's really me, I swear," said Vanessa earnestly. "Ask me any question about Van, and I'll answer it correctly."
"Okay," Dallin agreed. "What girl does Van have a crush on?"
"Oh, that's easy," said Vanessa. "None—because I'm a girl."
"What's Van's favorite movie?" asked Logan.
"The Court Jester with Danny Kaye," said Vanessa effortlessly.
"I understand they're doing a remake of Court Jester with Jim Carrey," said Odette.
"What?" said Vanessa, outraged. "How dare they!" Even the duck girl herself was amazed at the screech that had come from her mouth.
"She does a good imitation," said Logan. "But here's a totally hard question. What's Van's favorite piece of classical music?"
"Paganini's Caprice in A Minor for solo violin," said Vanessa proudly.
"Who's Van's favorite soccer player?" asked Dallin excitedly.
"Diego Armando Maradona," was Vanessa's answer.
"What's Van's favorite song?" Odette asked her.
"'Tomorrow', from Annie," replied Vanessa. "I can sing it, too. The sun'll come out tomorrow, bet your bottom…"
"No! Stop!" pleaded Logan, clutching his ears.
"She's Van, all right," said Dallin with confidence. "Nobody else can sing that badly."
"I still don't believe it," said Odette, folding her arms. "And I still think it's a bad idea to let her stay here."
"Where's she gonna, like, sleep, and stuff?" Logan wondered.
"Quinn's room is empty," said Mr. Cooper, who had been listening to Vanessa's interrogation.
"Oh, man," the duck girl groaned. "Quinn's room is so boring. I bet nobody else's older sister cuts the crossword puzzles out of the newspaper and tapes them to her wall."
Odette cast a stupefied glare at her. "You…you sounded just like him when you said that—the intonation, everything. How much time did you two spend together?"
"Astonishing," Mr. Cooper remarked soberly. "I don't believe in magic, but I can't doubt what my eyes and ears are telling me. For all we know, Van and Vanessa could be the same person."
"Van's a dudette now?" said Logan in wonderment. "Cool. I get a room to myself."
"Here's the real test," said Dallin, hurrying into the room with a violin case tucked under his arm. "Can you play the violin as beautifully as Van does?"
Smiling eagerly, Vanessa ripped open the case and laid the instrument over her right shoulder. Grasping the bow, she launched into a performance of the piece she had been rehearsing endlessly—Bartok's Sonata for Solo Violin. To her delight, her girlish new fingers proved more dexterous than her old ones, giving her more lightness and agility as she played.
"I don't need any more proof," said Odette, shaking her head.
"It's settled, then," said Mr. Cooper authoritatively. "For as long as Vanessa stays here, we treat her as if she really is Van—or at the very least, as if she's a member of the family."
"Hooray!" Vanessa's skirt and wig bounced as she hopped for joy. "The first thing I want to do is go shopping for clothes with Odette!"
"Um…er…" the swan girl stammered anxiously.
"Come on," Vanessa urged her. "You're so desperate for a little sister to shop with, you've even gone out with Muffy." Grinning smugly, she started to play a jig on her violin.
"Can this day get any weirder?" said Logan.
As he spoke, Mrs. Cooper snatched up a container of dried red herbs from the shelf of Augusta's vacated apartment, and hurled it against the opposite wall with all her strength. It shattered, dumping its contents in a heap on the carpet alongside several other spilled materials. The duck woman grabbed another bottle and threw it at the same target, destroying it. This is what I think of your witchcraft! she thought indignantly.
She smashed all the containers, more or less four dozen in total. Fine powder from the various substances floated into the air and meshed together, becoming an odd-smelling mist that filled the apartment and enveloped Mrs. Cooper. She sniffed a few times, thought nothing of it, and slipped away from the building, hoping she hadn't been seen.
By the time she made it back to her house, she had grown a full beard.
"My God, Valerie!" exclaimed Mr. Cooper at the sight of his wife's hairy, powder-covered face. "What's happened to you?"
"Ding dong, the witch is dead," replied Mrs. Cooper in a weak, raspy voice.
Needless to say, it fell upon Mr. Cooper to drive his daughters to the mall.
Francine's parents had taken the garbage truck to attend a flower show, so she and Arthur ran breathlessly to the Read home. "We need a ride to the police station!" they exclaimed in unison as they entered.
Pal barked and rose on his hind legs.
"Pal can't drive," Francine pointed out.
"You're right," Arthur acknowledged. "Pal, where's Dad? Go get Dad."
"He can't understand English, either," said Francine impatiently.
"Calm down," said Pal sagely. "They haven't pressed any formal charges against Augusta, so the worst they can do is order her to undergo a psychological evaluation."
"Arf arf arf," was all that Francine and Arthur heard.
Attracted by the commotion, Mrs. Read poked her head through the doorway to the laundry room. "What's going on?" she asked as D.W. climbed up the stairs past her.
"We need you to drive us to the police station," Arthur told her.
" Augusta's been arrested," added Francine. "The police think she kidnapped Van, but we know she didn't."
The aardvark woman narrowed her eyes. "Kidnapped Van? Why on Earth…"
"If you won't drive us there, we'll take our bikes," said Arthur.
"Not now," Mrs. Read lectured him. "Let the police do their work. They'll call for you when they need you."
"Mooommm…" moaned Arthur.
His mother turned her back and walked off, but D.W. had a proposition. "Greta can drive you to the police station," she suggested.
Arthur glared sternly at his sister. "D.W., Greta can't drive anybody anywhere, because she's dead."
"No, she's not," D.W. insisted. "She's standing right next to me."
Arthur and Francine looked at both sides of the little girl, but saw no one.
"Her car's waiting outside for us," claimed D.W.
"We don't have time for this nonsense," said Arthur, gesturing for Francine to leave with him.
D.W. sighed as the pair departed. "Don't worry," Greta said to her. "Someday they'll be able to see me, too."
The peach-colored satin dress she wore was stylish and cute, and her new pastel-yellow shoes reflected the sun nicely, but Vanessa felt strangely unfulfilled.
"You look good enough to eat, Van…I mean, Vanessa," remarked Odette as she walked toward the Cooper family's Buick with the glum-looking duck girl and her father. "Is that what you're unhappy about? Are you afraid someone will eat you?"
Vanessa remained silent until Mr. Cooper had driven the girls away from the shopping mall. "I don't understand," she finally spoke up. "I didn't enjoy it as much as I should have."
Odette rolled her eyes; due to the length of her neck, this caused the ceiling of the car to entirely block out her view. "I kept telling you, 'Get the boy-cut denim jeans, you'll feel more comfortable in them.' But no, you had to ask for the darling little dress with the buttons."
"It's not that," said Vanessa seriously. "The dress is fine. I like it. It's just that…shopping for clothes and dolls is supposed to make girls happy, but it didn't make me happy. In fact, I was kinda bored." She reached into the bag that sat between herself and Odette, and pulled out two Bratz dolls in their packages. "Even a little weirded out."
"It's your first shopping trip as a girl," said Odette with a hint of impatience. "It's not the same as boy shopping. You'll need some time to get used to it."
"But I'm a girl now," said Vanessa insistently. "I have a girl's heart and a girl's needs."
Confused, Odette could only sigh.
"Maybe I didn't turn all the way into a girl," worried Vanessa as she gazed at her new dolls and felt nothing. "Maybe I should go to the doctor and get X-rayed."
"You will, soon enough," said Mr. Cooper from the driver's seat. "This may be hard for you to understand, Vanessa, but being turned into a girl doesn't automatically make you like girl things instead of boy things—at least, I don't think it does."
"It doesn't?" said Vanessa in surprise.
"It doesn't," replied her father.
The duck girl's face fell. "Then what does that make me? A tomboy—a girl who likes boy things. The other girls won't want to play with me."
"Of course they will," said Odette helpfully. "I've talked to some of your girl friends; they all think you're very nice."
"I'm getting really confused," Vanessa admitted.
"I've been confused ever since this whole thing started," said Odette, "and you're the one who got sex-changed."
"What do I do?" asked Vanessa, pleading in her voice. "How do I learn to enjoy being a girl? I have to know, because I don't think this is just a dream I can wake up from."
Odette shrugged. "I don't know…but then again, I've never had to ask myself that question."
Vanessa tossed her dolls aside and began to sulk. "I don't think I want to be a girl," she muttered.
to be continued