"Mavis has a disease called Retinitis Pigmentosa," Marina explained to the astonished Muffy. "It causes progressive loss of vision, and there's no cure. She's almost completely blind now."
The girl in the alien dress stammered in disbelief. "But…but she seemed fine a month ago, when she went trick-or-treating with us," she recalled.
Marina sniffled and reached for a handkerchief to wipe her cheeks. "A month ago she still had some tunnel vision left," she explained. "She could read if she wore special glasses, but now she can't read at all."
Her fists clenched, Muffy tried to block out the rabbit girl's words with anger. Mavis going blind? It's impossible! I would've known!
"I'm sorry to be the one to tell you," said Marina. "She hates it when people feel sorry for her, so she…"
"Well, of course people will feel sorry for her," said Muffy, outraged. "What does she expect them to do, celebrate?"
Her outburst left Marina at a loss for words.
"I want to see her," said Muffy with resolve. "I'll bet she could use a little reassuring right about now."
"Reassuring?" said Marina, consternation replacing sorrow in her tone. "Reassure her of what?"
Muffy tried to speak cheerfully, even though her heart was pained. "She needs to be reassured that life's still worth living, even without the gift of sight. She needs to be reassured that blind people are valued members of society. She needs to…"
"You've never been blind, have you, Muffy?" Marina interrupted her. "Mavis doesn't need any of that. She just wants to be treated like a normal girl."
This time Muffy was the speechless one.
"If you do visit her," said Marina sagely, "try not to draw attention to her blindness. Just talk to her like you always do."
"So," said Muffy, "have you checked out the Backstreet Boys yet?"
Sitting next to her was the saddest, thinnest Mavis Cutler she had ever seen. The hamster girl's curly red locks were disheveled. Her glasses, no longer of any use, were absent, and her beady, unfocused amber eyes were exposed. Her discouraged frown suggested to Muffy that she had spent the entire day moping, without even pausing for meals.
Mavis took a deep breath, and Muffy expected her to start bemoaning her fate. Instead, she stated, "Yes, I listened to one of their albums, and I decided they weren't very good."
"Hmm," said Muffy, a bit surprised by her response. "Well, I admit they can't hold a candle to Nine Inch Noses, but you won't find a better boy band on Earth, that's for sure."
"What's Nine Inch Noses?" Mavis inquired.
"Nine Inch Noses," Muffy told her, "is only the coolest band in the entire universe. When I saw them perform in Elci Kahaf, it was like having a sugar rush and an out-of-body experience at the same time. The drummer had four arms, the guitarist had sixteen fingers, and one of the musicians had some kind of telepathic instrument that made me think they were singing my name over and over. It was like, Muuuffyyy…Muuuffyyy…Muuuffyyy…"
Mavis relaxed her head against the back of the couch. "Most kids fantasize about traveling to another planet," she said thoughtfully. "Not me. I fantasize about being a congresswoman, or a scientist, or an animal trainer, or a mom with six kids. I've always thought, why fantasize about something that'll never, ever come true?" She sighed. "But now it's different—now I actually have a friend who's been to another planet. Maybe it's time to revise my fantasies."
As she watched the hamster girl's face light up, Muffy felt an urge to darken the mood. "You know, Mavis," she said, "for a kid who's gonna be blind for the rest of her life, you sure seem happy."
"Who said anything about being blind for the rest of my life?" said the unruffled Mavis. "Scientists are working on a cure for RP even as we speak. It may take a year, or it may take twenty years. I can wait."
She's in stage 1—denial, thought Muffy. I'd better split before she reaches stage 2—anger.
"My mom tells me that retinal implant surgery may restore vision in at least one of my eyes," Mavis went on. "But we can't afford the surgery, because our insurance doesn't cover it."
Muffy felt a twinge of compassion as she gazed into her friend's nearly sightless eyes. "I wish the Crosswires could help somehow," she said earnestly, "but we can't raise as much money now as we could in the good old days."
"Don't sweat it," said Mavis. "It's the thought that counts."
Muffy's mother, who stood in the front lawn engaged in idle chat with Mrs. Cutler, was alerted by the sound of an incoming call. "Excuse me, please," she said, picking up her cell phone while stepping under a bare tree for privacy.
"Mrs. Crosswire, I'm Lieutenant Mazzetti of the CCPD," she heard a stern male voice speak. "Is this a good time?"
"Of course," she replied.
"Based on Mr. Bailey's description of the car and the driver," the police lieutenant continued, "we were able to determine that the car was stolen, and that the driver was most likely one Bartholomew Griffith, a convicted felon with suspected ties to the Crown City Mafia."
She felt a cold shiver run down her back. "Thank you for letting me know, Lieutenant," she said calmly into the phone.
"I hope I haven't alarmed you, ma'am," said the officer.
"Not at all," said Mrs. Crosswire. "Call me again when you have more details."
She folded up the phone and resumed her conversation with Mrs. Cutler. "You're kidding me…the pineapple goes on the bottom instead of on the top? No wonder my upside-down cake turned out so badly."
To be continued