King Solobrain sat rigidly in his throne, a diamond-encrusted crown on his head, a golden scepter held up in one hand. In the vast hall before him, a courtier carrying a baby in swaddling clothes marched forward, followed by two women in silken robes and veils. "Your Majesty," announced the courtier, bowing on one knee, "I present to you Bitzisheba from the land of Elwoodorah, and your mother."
"What is the nature of the dispute?" asked King Solobrain in a solemn voice.
"They both lay claim to the infant Petulakiah," stated the courtier, holding the rabbit baby aloft.
"Sit up straight," said Solobrain's mother.
"Silence, woman," snapped the King. "You will state your case in turn."
"Don't call me woman. I'm your mother."
Bitzisheba began to speak. "Your Majesty, it is against the laws handed down by our fathers for a child to be raised by a family of another species."
"It is also written in the laws handed down by our fathers," said the King's mother, "that a woman, happening upon an abandoned child, should have first claim upon it."
"A woman of the same species," retorted Bitzisheba.
"Look who's stuck in the 10th century B.C.," snapped the King's mother.
"Silence!" shouted Solobrain, raising his scepter. "Let the child be divided in two."
"What?" said Bitzi, blinking with disbelief. "You mean…joint custody? I already have to go through that with Buster."
"Who asked for your opinion, anyway?" said Mrs. Powers.
Alan lowered his face sheepishly. "Never mind."
"Please," said Mrs. Read desperately, "can't I hold her again for just a few seconds?"
Bitzi defensively swiveled baby Petula away from the aardvark woman's grasping hands. "You already have three kids and a bun in the oven," she said harshly.
"Augusta left her with me," said Mrs. Powers firmly. "That constitutes an unspoken contract."
"There's no such thing as an unspoken contract," said Mrs. Baxter, her eyes nearly popping through her horn-rimmed glasses.
"I'll take this to court if I have to," Mrs. Powers threatened.
Bitzi smirked confidently. "You go ahead and do that, Mrs. 'I have no memory of raising my own son.'"
While the bear woman gaped in outrage, Bitzi turned on her high heel and strode through the door, still clutching Petula in her arms. "Where are you going with my baby?" yelled Mrs. Powers, hurrying after her.
"She's my baby now," said Bitzi, not bothering to glance over her shoulder at the pursuing woman. "That is, unless you want to fight me for her."
Mrs. Read, her eyes becoming moist with tears, started to follow the bickering pair—until she noticed the distraught expression on Alan's face, and the hand he had slapped onto his forehead. "What's the matter?" she inquired.
"This is all my fault," the boy groaned. "I just wanted to avoid getting a baby sister, and now I've started World War III."
"What did you do?" asked the puzzled aardvark woman.
"There's some kind of magic charm about that baby," Alan related. "Every woman who touches her wants to keep her."
"That's completely silly," said Mrs. Read. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got a baby to catch." Quicker than a flash, she disappeared through the front doorway.
Day gave way to evening. After hours of arguing, Mrs. Baxter and Mrs. Powers agreed to take their case to the police. An APB was issued for the fleeing Augusta Winslow, and Petula spend the night under the loving care of the Elwood City Child Welfare Agency.
The two angry women slept little. That baby was meant for me—I can feel it, thought Bitzi as she tossed and turned. She wouldn't be so heartless if she had a comatose daughter as well, thought Mrs. Powers as she cut off a slice of haggis for a midnight snack.
Van Cooper awoke early in the morning, slowly pulled off the quilt that covered him, sat up groggily, and immediately noticed some odd facts. He was in Quinn's bed, he was wearing a pink nightgown, and his anatomy was no longer as he remembered it.
He felt a gasp of horror coming on. Then he caught himself. That's right, he thought, suppressing his panic. I turned into a girl two days ago.
Vanessa hopped out of the bed, landing on her bare, somewhat smaller feet. Yesterday wasn't so bad, she thought. The weirdest part was seeing all the girls in my class naked in the locker room, but I'll bet it was twice as weird for them. She reached for the brunette wig Fern had loaned her, which lay on the end table next to her two Bratz dolls. Today the fun begins—I'll sign up for aquatics, ballet lessons, and girl's chorus, I'll learn how to kick a soccer ball, and I'll…
She stepped in front of the mirror to try on her wig, and let out a girlish scream.
"My hair!" she cried out loud.
Her shock quickly turned to amusement. She was staring at a duck's head covered with long golden curls, some of which dangled over her cheeks. At first she suspected that Odette might have glued a Shirley Temple wig to her scalp during the night, but a firm tug on one of her tresses proved that the hair was absolutely real.
I can't believe how cute I look, she thought with delight. But I couldn't have grown this much hair overnight. And it wasn't curly before! What happened to me?
In Logan's bedroom, where the violinist posters and pieces of sheet music had been carefully taken down from the walls, the teenage boy dozed and dreamed of a perfect world where all his siblings were girls, and he had his own bedroom in perpetuity. His happy slumber was interrupted by Vanessa's hasty entrance. "Dude!" the duck girl awakened him. "Look at me! I've got new hair!"
"Hrrrgh?" Logan rubbed his eyes and squinted, and the blur in front of him coalesced into a stringy-haired girl.
"I've got new hair!" boasted Vanessa, swinging her head back and forth. "Look what it can do!"
"Dudette," mumbled Logan, slowly pushing himself up, "that is so totally freaky."
In little more than an instant the entire Cooper clan had gathered in the kitchen to admire Vanessa's new appearance. "It looks just like my hair," Odette remarked. "You'll lose that smile when you find out what you have to do to manage it."
"It's so awesome!" Vanessa exulted. "Now I don't have to wear a wig to look like a regular girl."
"You look like an overgrown fern," Mrs. Cooper commented. "Odette, could you lend Vanessa some of you hair bands?"
"Yes, Mother," replied the swan girl eagerly.
Mr. Cooper picked up a strand of Vanessa's hair and scrutinized it thoughtfully. "It grew so quickly," he mused, "and it's not even your natural color."
"Yeah, it's crazy," the duck girl concurred. "I guess the magic spell that made me a girl had a delayed reaction, or something."
"I hope it's finished growing," said Mr. Cooper, "or you'll have to drag it behind you to school."
"Then you can run around naked, and cover yourself with just your hair," joked Dallin.
Odette led Vanessa into the girls' bathroom, where Vanessa stripped bare and Odette removed everything but her undergarments. The swan girl turned on the shower and began to demonstrate the usage of her various hair care products. "Your hair's long now," she explained while rubbing conditioner into Vanessa's convoluted tresses, "so you have to remember to wash all of it, and not just the top of your head."
Vanessa watched the soap crowd around her feet and sink into the drain, then looked up at Odette's body. "Is that gonna happen to me when I get to be your age?" she inquired innocently.
"Yes," replied her older sister. "This is what happens to all girls."
As the flow of water rinsed the suds from Vanessa's hair, Odette noticed to her alarm that her sister's neck was slowly but steadily growing longer.
Vanessa stopped running her hands through her locks when she noticed Odette's wide eyes. "What is it?" she asked, just before realizing that she had to stretch her arms further to reach the top of her head.
"You're…you're…" Odette stammered.
"What's happening?" said Vanessa, her concern increasing. "Am I getting taller?"
She could tell that another change was taking place, as her scalp had risen so high that she could no longer reach it. Acting out of blind instinct, she willed the muscles in her neck to contract and bend in a thoroughly unfamiliar manner. Her head was now reachable, but she no longer cared.
"My neck's acting funny," she stated.
Odette couldn't move, speak, or think. Her beak hung open grotesquely.
From her perspective, the wet, soapy duck girl standing in the bathtub had metamorphosed into a wet, soapy swan girl—a ten-year-old swan girl, indistinguishable from Odette herself except by age.
"What's going on?" asked Vanessa, her long, curved swan neck quivering. "Why can't I hold my head still?"
Odette finally succeeded in closing her mouth. Consternation filled her heart and soul.
"Crap," was all she could utter.
to be continued