Molly Moon & the Monster Music

by Georgia Byng

  “I wish I could just jump off and hypnotize him for you, Molly,” Dr. Logan said, “but I’m not as good as I was, and anyway, you know the music coin won’t allow me close.”

  Molly nodded. Then, holding Petula tight, she stepped off the floom.

  The audience gasped. It was as if Molly and Petula had been spun out of thin air. Molly put Petula down onto the stage.

  Mr. Proila stopped playing the harmonica. In fact, he stepped back in surprise and knocked a banjo off its stand.

  The audience recognized Molly at once. They were still hooked on her. They loved her. And so they began to clap and cheer wildly.

  Wasting no time, Molly swung toward Mr. Proila and held up the pouch. Girding herself with a courage that was paper-thin, she unfastened it. Turning it inside out so that it fit her hand like a mitten, she exposed the coin, her fingers gripping it through the leather.

  Mr. Proila stood and stared. He’d been stunned by Molly’s sudden appearance and now he was utterly perplexed by her behavior. He looked at the coin she held up. It glittered under the stage lights. He read Molly’s lips.

  “Look, Mr. Proila, I’ve got an amazing coin! With it I can appear and disappear and travel through space and time. And play wonderful music. You thought that you’d beaten me, but sorry, this coin is far superior to yours. I have BEATEN YOU!”

  Mr. Proila gulped as a lightning-fast series of thoughts flew through his head.

  Firstly, his instinct told him that this Moon girl’s new coin was better than his. Secondly, it occurred to him that this meant that the Moon girl was now incredibly dangerous to him.

  Greed got the better of him. Mr. Proila could already feel the new coin’s power. He knew he must have it before Molly whizzed off anywhere. He switched off his microphone. His hand shot out. He grabbed at the new coin.

  “Thank you so much!” he exclaimed. His laughing voice was now inaudible to the crowd. “You stupid child! Now I have both coins. You’ll have to show me how it works later, but for now it’s on with the sh . . .” Mr. Proila was about to fling his arms out in exhilaration—to momentarily hold both coins up to the lights in a gesture of victory—but he stopped. The effort was too much, he thought. He felt fabulous enough without gloating. “Yes . . . yes. On with the shhhh . . .” he said with a smile.

  He dropped down on his knees and looked at the amazing new coin in his hand. The very energy inside him seemed to flow more steadily around his body because of it. He could feel his blood moving down his legs and up the other side of him as though it were a magical, life-giving sap that he had never noticed before. His feet felt heavy and grounded, like the roots of a tree. In fact, his legs felt like the trunk of a tree. His body and arms its leafy branches—his head a mass of blossom. And then, the heaviness of this feeling started to grow lighter and lighter. The blossom of his mind felt as if it were blowing away. The audience was clapping and he was floating . . . floating away.

  All that Mr. Proila could feel that had any weight to it now was the new coin he had taken from the girl—that girl whose name he couldn’t remember. The coin with its circle marked in the center of it. Or was it a zero? A nothing?

  Molly watched hopefully as Mr. Proila’s countenance changed. She willed the new coin to do its work. Mr. Proila’s expression dropped from angry and authoritative to dreamy. The hand holding the new coin grasped it tighter and tighter while the hand with the old coin in it grew looser and looser.

  And then the music coin fell. To Molly, it was as if it were falling in slow motion, for so many conflicting thoughts raced through her mind as it dropped.

  “It’s mine! Mine again at last!” one part of Molly delighted.

  Then another part of her snapped, “No! It’s never to be yours again. Leave it.”

  A third urged, “If you pick it up and use it one last time, you can fix all the bad stuff that Mr. Proila has done. And there’s an audience out there. Mr. Proila’s bodyguards, too. What are you going to do about them?”

  As the music coin dropped onto the stage and rolled across the ground, Mr. Proila slumped down. Molly’s eyes lifted and engaged with the audience. She picked up Mr. Proila’s electric guitar and spoke into the microphone.

  “HELLO, TOKYO!” she shouted. “It seems Proila is a bit tired!”

  The audience laughed, thinking Mr. Proila’s exhaustion and his sitting on the stage was some sort of act.

  “So,” Molly went on, gesturing to Dr. Logan at the side of the stage, “I’d like you to meet my great-great-great-grandfather.” The audience laughed again, as of course this was a joke—no one’s great-great-great-grandfather was alive.

  Molly stepped up to the music coin, lying where Mr. Proila had dropped it, and pressed her foot on it. Immediately she could feel its power as it tried to commune with her again. Like an evil spirit it wanted its power over her back.

  Petula watched Molly, unsure what was happening. “Molly! Leave the coin!” she barked.

  “What are you doing, Molly?” Dr. Logan called anxiously from the edge of the stage. He held his earphones firmly in place, for he was suspicious about what Molly was planning to do.

  Then Molly did something that completely horrified Toka, Gerry, and Rocky, who were observing from the wings, and Dr. Logan and Petula. Molly picked up the music coin and put it in her pocket! Taking a white electric guitar, she began to play.

  Petula took hold of Molly’s pant leg in her teeth and she began to tug.

  But Molly played. And she played more brilliantly than ever before. Gerry, Rocky, and Toka watched helplessly from the side of the stage, their attempts to push past a guard unsuccessful.

  The audience stood in awe—many with their mouths hanging open. Molly’s music was far superior to Proila’s. His had been good. But Molly’s was heavenly.

  The crowd would have been amazed at what was really going on in Molly’s head.

  Molly wasn’t thinking anything at all about the music she was playing. It was imperative that she didn’t. Instead Molly had filled her mind with something else—the word that Do had taught her: aum. Aum filled her mind from back to front, from side to side, and top to bottom just as Do had suggested it might be able to. It blocked out everything else. So while Molly’s hands played on automatic, doing the music coin’s bidding, her mind was protected. She didn’t even hear—not a note—and so she was not a slave to the coin. Molly was taking the coin’s power without it taking hers. Her fingers held down frets and strummed and picked on strings, working a musical frenzy on the instrument. And the music she made ensnared her audience, but it had absolutely no effect on her.

  When she’d finished, the audience exploded.

  Molly reached her hand into the pocket and took the coin out. She bowed to the audience and as she bent lower, as if to pat Petula, she gave the coin to her dog. “You look after this now,” she whispered. She nodded to Dr. Logan and smiled at her friends in the wings, who she could see were watching her with wide, terrified eyes.

  Then Molly’s eyes sought out the prime minister. There he was, applauding enthusiastically. When she caught his eye the prime minister even put two fingers up to his mouth and whistled shrilly. Molly held her hand up to the audience. Immediately it fell silent.

  “Thank you,” Molly said. “Glad you liked the show. Now I have something serious to talk to you about. So if you don’t mind, please will you listen for a few minutes.” Molly glanced over at Gerry and made a thumbs-up signal to him. She beckoned at Toka, who came and translated her words into Japanese. “I think a lot of you will know that some strange new laws have been passed in Japan. Whale hunting has been made legal again. So have dogfighting and cockfighting. I am sure that many of you think this is wrong.”

  The audience murmured and a few shouts of agreement rang through the arena.

  Now Molly spoke directly to the prime minister, who was staring at her adoringly. “Mr. Prime Minister, I know that you and your cabinet have recently been persuaded to change these laws—
but please, for all the animals, and for the Japanese people, and the people of the world, and for me, please will you change the laws back?”

  Molly stepped up to the VIP box and she thrust the mic toward the politician. She hoped that the brief burst of music she had played had been enough to affect him.

  The prime minister of Japan bent his head closer to the microphone. “Of course,” he agreed. And he put his hand out to Molly to shake on the promise.

  Thirty-eight

  After lots of bowing to the enthralled audience, Molly and Dr. Logan helped Mr. Proila to his feet. They bent him over, helping him to bow, too. The audience laughed, assuming it was a comedy act. They cheered as Molly and the old man led Mr. Proila off the stage. Petula followed, with the music coin safely in her mouth.

  Backstage, Gerry, Rocky, and Toka were waiting.

  “How did you do it, Molly?” Rocky asked. “How did you resist the coin?”

  “By not letting the thought of it into my head,” Molly said. “It’s a trick Do taught me.”

  “The whales will be so happy,” Gerry said, hugging Molly around the waist.

  “Well, after the trouble I caused, Gerry, there was some fixing to do.”

  “The trouble I caused, you mean,” Dr. Logan said. “Petula’s doing an excellent job of being its guardian now.”

  Petula wagged her tail and Molly bent down to give her a stroke. “Good girl, Petula.”

  Now everyone’s attention fell on Mr. Proila.

  “So what do we do with him?” Toka asked. “He’s good for nothing.”

  “That’s because he’s got the do-nothing coin!” Gerry laughed. His hat bobbed as Titch ran about in its lining.

  Rocky touched Mr. Proila’s arm. “Wow,” he gasped. “He gives off a sort of relaxed vibe.”

  “We don’t want him losing that coin,” Toka said.

  Mr. Proila’s hand was clamped vise-like around the do-nothing coin, in contrast to the rest of him, which was as floppy as a jelly.

  “He needs to be somewhere where he’s watched,” Toka said.

  “How about takin’ him to the old monk you met?” Gerry suggested.

  “I could take him now,” Dr. Logan said. “In the state he’s in, he’s the perfect passenger. I’ve carried hypnotized people before. The board seems to accept them as under my power. Once he’s at Do’s monastery, everyone’s safer.”

  Everyone agreed that this was a great plan.

  “But poor Do,” Gerry said, “havin’ to look after this lump.”

  “He won’t mind,” Molly reassured Gerry. “He’ll see it as a Zen challenge.”

  Molly gave her great-great-great-grandfather a big hug. “Thanks. Thanks not just for this but for everything. Without you I never could have sorted this all out. And after this, you deserve a big rest. You look so tired, Grandpa.”

  Dr. Logan did a funny little salute, then he took his floom in his fingers and he put his hand on Mr. Proila’s shoulder. He shut his eyes.

  In the next second, there was a hiss as they shrank and disappeared.

  “Wow!” Gerry said. “If everyone had one of those disc things, we wouldn’t need planes!”

  “Cool guy,” Toka declared.

  “Now,” Rocky said, “we need to decide what to do with the music coin.”

  “Petula could look after it,” Gerry suggested. “Although that wouldn’t really be fair. I don’t’spect it tastes that nice.” He took Titch out of his hat to let him see what was going on.

  “We could bury it under a mountain or throw it into the deepest part of the sea,” Rocky suggested.

  Molly’s eyes lit up.

  The perfect solution involved, first of all, arranging to meet Hiroyuki, Chokichi, and Miss Sny and telling them everything that had happened. They of course needed some decompressing from the hypnotic music that Mr. Proila had played to them, but that wasn’t difficult. With earphones on himself, Rocky played them a recording of Molly’s music. Though Molly no longer possessed the coin, her music from that time had the strength to cancel out the power of Mr. Proila’s.

  Then Miss Sny arranged for a limo to drive them all to the fishing village of Nakaminato.

  A small but comfortable fishing ship awaited them. It had enough berths for everyone. But more important was that the crew were friendly and, crucially, whale loving. In fact, the captain, a thickset mustached man, had a special interest in whales. In his cabin he had albums full of photographs that he had taken of whales throughout his long years at sea.

  There was also a cabin full of radar equipment and devices to locate whales, and recording equipment that the captain could let down into the water to film the creatures and listen to the amazing sounds they made.

  “It was very disturbing when hunting whales was made legal,” he said as everyone crowded into his cabin. “I am probably the happiest man in Japan today, knowing that the prime minister has banned whale hunting again.”

  Gerry looked admiringly at the captain. “What a nice job you’ve got.”

  The journey was an easy one as the sea was calm. And the next morning, after a good night’s sleep, everyone gathered on deck. Sunlight poured down on them and the sea flashed silver, reflecting the sky. It stretched for miles, water in every direction.

  “They are near,” the captain said. “It looks empty, but the whales are there.”

  Molly found that her heart was beating fast. Were they under the boat, or a mile off?

  And then they appeared. First it was just a glimpse—the glint of a wet whale back, the tip of a tail surfacing and catching the sun. And then there was a massive noise—a PAH on the other side of the ship that broke the hush of the sea. It was the unmistakable sound of life—giant life—giant ocean life. It was the noise of a massive animal in the sea, an animal with lungs the size of trees, surfacing and letting out a breath and taking in another. It was a sound like Molly had never heard before.

  Everyone ran to that side of the ship.

  “One, two, three,” Gerry counted. “Look! Four, five, six, seven! Seven of them! Look! Two babies! And those ones are teenagery whales. That one’s a giant!”

  “He must be the dad,” Rocky said.

  Everyone was thrilled and overwhelmed by the wonderful sight.

  The whales rolled and played in the water, their huge bodies gray and wet, the sea as comfortable to them as air to humans. And then they were off. They began swimming away, in a line. Their bodies came up and went down, almost as if each one was connected to the next.

  The engines started. Soon the ship was traveling with the whales on either side of it. When the whales slowed down and began to play again, the ship stopped, too. Molly looked over the edge.

  A huge whale was swimming beneath the boat. And then an amazing thing happened. This giant whale came up, rising like a gentle monster from the deep. It surfaced right beside the ship, water spraying from its blowhole—showering everyone watching. It was an exhilarating moment, half scary to be near such a powerful creature, half exciting and totally awe-inspiring.

  Petula barked at Molly.

  “Yes!” Molly agreed, knowing exactly what Petula wanted to do. “Give it to him!” Molly held Petula up and held her over the edge of the ship. Petula positioned herself and then, with a toss of her head, she threw the music coin into the sea.

  At once the coin sank, dropping down through the water onto the bull whale. The whale dived down, taking the coin with it.

  “Captain,” Molly said urgently, “can we go to your cabin and watch the whales through your cameras?”

  “Certainly. Come with me.”

  With the press of a few buttons, the equipment was switched on. And out of the speakers in the recording cabin came the most extraordinary sound. It was of a bull whale singing.

  “That is quite extraordinary,” the captain said, twiddling knobs to check his machinery was working properly. “I’ve never, ever heard a whale sing as wonderfully as that. It seems to be splitting its vo
ice into two and harmonizing! It’s completely . . . mesmerizing! I must record this.” He pressed a button.

  Molly gave Gerry a wink.

  “When you’ve recorded him,” Gerry suggested, “you can sell the CD. And the money you make can help save the whales and protect the seas everywhere in the world.”

  Molly picked up Petula and hugged her. She carried her out onto the deck. And from there they watched the pod of whales as they swam away.

  Thirty-nine

  That afternoon they all returned to Tokyo. They were salty-faced and windswept from their brilliant time whale watching.

  When they got back to the apartment, Do was waiting for them there, looking very out of place in his simple monk’s clothes. He’d traveled from Kyoto. Everyone looked at him in surprise.

  “Has Mr. Proila escaped?” Molly blurted out.

  Do got up. “Oh no, Molly. He fine. He like sloth. He stay there like pet until I return.”

  “I’m sorry, Do. I thought you wouldn’t mind having him,” Molly said, walking toward him. “Do you not want him there?” she asked anxiously. “Is that the thing? I can completely see why you wouldn’t.”

  The monk shook his head. “No! No, I like him. He remind me how to be still. Good inspiration.” His smile dropped.

  All the children came and gathered around the monk.

  “Have you come to say good-bye?” Molly guessed. “You know, Do, I never would have gone back home without coming to see you again.” Molly smiled.

  Do sighed. “I know. But I have to bring you something.”

  He pulled a small bag out of his pocket and gave it to Molly. She opened it. Inside were four things. A clear time-stop crystal. A green crystal. A red crystal. And her great-great-great-grandfather’s floom.

  “He wanted you to have them,” Do said.

  Molly paused, confused. “But . . . but he can’t give me this.” She picked out the red gem. “He’ll never get back to his own time without this.”

  “No.” Do shook his head. “He won’t.”

  Molly looked at Do’s peaceful face.