True to Beat's prediction, Mr. and Mrs. Frensky had many words for Francine, few of them positive, as they retrieved her from the Simons' condo. "Jackie Mason was there today," her mother told her. "You missed quite a show. He had some especially choice words for the Pope."

"Uh-huh," said Francine, her full attention turned to her seat belt. "Mom, is it all right if I go to church with Arthur and his family tomorrow?"

Her father nearly lost his spit. "What are you, meshuganah?" he blurted out.

"Now, Oliver," said his wife gently. "Remember what happened the last time you lost your temper while you were driving?"

Mr. Frensky gripped the wheel tightly with all ten fingers. "I've already lost one daughter this month," he muttered angrily. "I'm not about to lose you, Francine. You should feel lucky we didn't tie you up and drag you to temple with us."

"Not that we would ever do that," said Mrs. Frensky dismissively. "But, Frankie, honey, you don't know anybody at Arthur's church. You'd be surrounded by strangers, listening to some weird goyim sermon about wine that turns into blood, and all your friends at temple would be asking about you. 'Is Francine sick? Is she dead? Why isn't she here?'"

Francine gazed down at her red blouse and jeans, and felt admittedly strange that her parents had dressed up in their Saturday best without her. "Arthur's a good kid, Mom," she remarked. "His parents are okay, too. I don't think they would go to a bad church."

"I didn't say it was bad," her mother clarified. "I only said it was unfamiliar."

"Oh, for cryin' out loud," grumbled Mr. Frensky. "Our little house isn't big enough for two religions."

"I still don't understand why you want to change, dear," said Mrs. Frensky to the girl. "Jews, Christians, Mormons…they're all headed for the same place, and one won't get you there faster than another. Stick with what you know, that's what I say."

"But, Mom," said Francine insistently, "it's not just one place, it's two places, heaven and hell—and maybe a third place for Mormons, I don't know."

A few moments went by in silence as they pulled up next to the Westboro apartment building. Francine, concerned that her request had been implicitly denied, said, "I promise I'll be really good, and clean my room every day, and keep my dresser sorted, and always, always be a good sport."

Mr. Frensky's scowl gave way to a snicker. "All right, Frankie, if you do all those things, you can go to Arthur's church." He grinned confidently. "Of course, you can't do all those things. Just last Tuesday you threw a fit in gym class because you thought Prunella was cheating."

"Well, she was cheating," Francine complained. "That dirty rat stuck her hand right in my face!" She calmed herself. "Uh, I mean, she stuck her hand in my face to stop me from falling after I tripped over Binky's sneaker. Yeah, it was a very nice thing she did, too."

Grateful tears were shed at Alan's house as the Cooper family was reunited with their boy Van, who was in turn reunited with his wheelchair. "Dude, it's really you," said Logan wistfully. "I can't believe I thought that girl was you."

"That girl was me," said Van as his older brother lifted him by the armpits into the motorized chair.

"Sure, dude," said Logan. "Whatever."

Odette leaned over, then bent her neck downward, in order to place a peck on Van's cheek. "I've missed you a lot," said the swan girl. "You're worth more than a dozen little sisters."

"If Mom lives long enough, you'll have that many," Van joked.

Nearby, Mr. and Mrs. Cooper were commending Alan, Tegan, and their parents. "I wish I could repay you for finding our son," said the duck man, "but we're nearly flat broke, and Valerie won't let me plunder the college fund."

"I know how you must feel," said Mrs. Powers, shaking Mrs. Cooper's feathered hand. "For all those years Tegan was away, I lay awake every night wondering, 'Why do I need help taking care of my own daughter? Am I not a good enough mother?' And then, to suddenly discover I had a son I'd completely forgotten about—hello, inferiority complex. However, I've found that the best way to deal with feelings of inferiority, at least in my case, is positive self-reassurance."

"But I don't have feelings of inferiority," said Mrs. Cooper.

"There, you've got it," said Mrs. Powers supportively. "Now keep telling yourself that." Her ears picked up the ringing of the phone. "Excuse me, please."

"I have just one question," said Van to his older siblings. "How will you explain to the people at school that Vanessa's gone, and I've taken her place?"

Logan smirked. "Aliens, dude. It always works when I forget to finish my homework."

Before long Mrs. Powers returned to the den, found Alan engaged in an arm-wrestling contest with Dallin, and quickly whispered a few words into her son's ear.

Alan's face turned a whiter shade of pale.

"You win, Dallin," he said, allowing the little duck boy to wrench his wrist to the table. An instant later he jumped up, located Tegan's hand, grabbed it, and dragged his sister away from the crowd into a more private room. Once inside, he stared at her with visible fear in his eyes.

"What?" said Tegan, befuddled. "Is it about the Professor?"

Alan shook his head. "The Professor's the least of my problems now," he said ominously. "Mansch has escaped."

To be continued