by Georgia Byng
Molly squished the rat’s true character down under her own. It didn’t object. Molly apologized as she did it. She tried to ignore the ratty gut feeling that she had of climbing into the trash to rummage about there for old bones or thrown-away half-full Chinese takeout boxes. Then she saw Micky, who had morphed into a darker gray rat.
“Over here.” He was beckoning, his whiskers twitching. “Fast! Hurry!” he squeaked.
Molly scrunched up her nose at Micky and began to move. As she did, she realized how lithe her new body was. She was all tendon and muscle. Her scabby but svelte form moved like the wind. Molly the rat flattened her body from seven centimeters down to three, her bones dislocating into pancake mode, and she slid through a crack in the pavement. Her clawed feet gripped the underside of the paving stone, and she found herself gracefully landing upright, underneath the ground.
Black stood by an empty taxi stand, waiting for a cab. Then he noticed a scent of lavender and powder and saw Miss Teriyaki and Miss Suzette hovering in the shadows near him. He was at once suspicious of them, especially when he saw that the fat woman in the cream cape held a basket carrying two of the cats that had been standing by the letterbox. He gripped his bag with the hypnotism book inside it and hailed a cab.
Before climbing into the taxi, he stopped. A tall businessman in a black suit and a bowler hat was walking past, swinging his umbrella and briefcase and whistling the Seven Dwarfs tune “Whistle While You Work.” Black caught his arm and stared into the man’s eyes. At once his whistling stopped. He was hypnotized and ready to do whatever Black wanted.
“I am getting into this cab,” Black told him. “The two woman behind you—the lady in the cream cape and the Japanese woman in red—must not follow me. You will obstruct them so that they cannot catch a cab for ten minutes. What is more, when they try to hypnotize you, you will be unhypnotizable. Afterward, you will go on your way and forget you were ever hypnotized by me, and you won’t remember what happened here. I lock these instructions in with the words ‘Snow White.’”
The man nodded, and Black climbed into the cab. With a kick of exhaust, it was away.
Miss Teriyaki and Miss Suzette immediately stepped out of the shadows. Eagerly they approached the next cab.
“TAXI!” Miss Suzette shouted in a voice surprisingly deep for her tiny, tubby form.
“Follow that cab!” Miss Teriyaki bossily ordered the driver as he wound down his window.
But then the businessman stepped in front of them.
The gutter stank of the smelliest loo Molly had ever encountered, yet in her rat body she rather liked the stench. Now it smelled more sugary than sewage-y. Eager to escape, she followed Micky the dark gray rat farther down into the sewer, to a ledge near a tunnel that flowed with smelly water. The ceiling above the ledge was tall, making the place feel like a hall. It was lit by streetlights that shined through the gutter cover above, and here there were other rats. One bared its teeth at Molly, and at once she felt a pang of fear. Why had she and Micky come down this far under the ground?
“Micky,” she hissed.
But the dark gray rat ahead turned and, in a gruff voice, squeaked back, “Big water come night.”
And in a flash, Molly saw that this rat wasn’t Micky at all. She turned frantically toward the ledge down which she had just been led, but there was no Micky there either. Instead a fat, bushy rat with a scarred cheek and a missing ear stood solid as a tree trunk, blocking the way.
“Ah ooh, darlin’. Like me?” he croaked. The rat’s eyes were beady and mean.
“Not likely!” Molly found herself squeaking back. “Go and jump in the sewer!” And she edged up against the wall. “Micky!” she shouted. “HELP!” The fat rat stepped toward her.
“No callin’. No one carin’,” he snarled. “You call again, I bite, missy.”
The businessman was doing a very good job preventing the two spinsters from catching a cab. Time after time they tried. At one point the two ladies split, hoping that this way at least one of them would catch a taxi. But even though Miss Suzette waddled as fast as she could and Miss Teriyaki did a fast crutch hobble for another taxi, they were too slow for the young man.
“Oh, no, you don’t!” he said. And then he started whistling “Whistle While You Work,” which made him even more annoying. After ten minutes of this game, he stopped and, picking up his briefcase and umbrella, sauntered away.
“You stupid woman!” Miss Teriyaki hissed. “You know I haven’t got my hearing aid in today. You should have heard Black hypnotizing that man. He obviously did it just before he got into the taxi. Miss Hunroe won’t be at all pleased with you when she finds out.”
“What are you talking about?” Miss Suzette spat. “No one would be able to hear him hypnotizing from de distance we were to him. It’s your fault. I haven’t got my spectacles on. You should have seen dat he was hypnotizing the man. You should have been able to guess from his body language, you fool. When I tell Miss Hunroe what really happened, she will be disgusted.”
In the sewer, another rat appeared behind the thuggish rat.
“Molly, what are you doing down there?”
“I thought that other rat was you,” Molly spluttered, choking on her fear as the smelly thug rat crept closer.
“Just try and push past it,” whiskered Micky. As he spoke, though, two more rats, both very big, came down the sloped underground path into the hall of the sewer. Nudging Micky the rat along, the new arrivals were soon behind Molly and Micky.
The heavy bull rat lifted his scarred nose to sniff at them. “Ah, oldies!” he salivated. “Nice! Like me?” He spoke with a threatening air, a twisted charm that was laced with aggression. But nasty as his tone was, the new rats weren’t bothered by it.
“Get on your way, you stinking piece of salt cod!” snapped the first. Her mouth twitched into a heart shape.
“You ’eard ze lady. Get lost,” barked the second, baring big, sharp teeth. With a swift move, she nipped the revolting male rat on his back.
The large rat gave a squeal. Then, with a flash of his tail, he fled.
Molly’s relief was short-lived. In a second it turned to utter confusion. For the light gray rat turned to the charcoal gray one and congratulated it. “Perfectly executed, Miss Oakkton!”
The two rats now turned their coal black glistening eyes on Molly and Micky.
“Molly and Micky?” asked the pale gray rat, her mouth pinching into a heart shape again.
“Miss Hunroe?” Molly said dumbly. “It’s you, isn’t it? And you—you can morph?”
The rats in front of the twins smiled and nodded.
“That’s Oakkton,” Micky whispered.
“Have you just learned?” Molly asked. “We really needed your help then. Thanks.”
But as Molly spoke, she felt that something was wrong, for she wasn’t feeling friendliness emanating from the rats that were Miss Hunroe and Miss Oakkton.
Miss Hunroe licked her paw. “You learned how to morph into animal forms and human forms,” she said. “Well done! Most impressive. Most remarkable.” She came closer.
“When did you all learn to morph, then?” Micky questioned. “You said you didn’t know how to when we spoke to you at the museum.”
Miss Hunroe batted her answer nonchalantly back. “Oh, just now.”
“How?”
“Ze book, ze book taught us, of course,” Miss Oakkton, the charcoal rat, interjected.
“So you’ve just seen the book?” Molly asked. “But I thought Black had it.”
“Yes, ve got it off him,” Miss Oakkton explained. “But ve only had ze time to quickly scan ze pages on animal morphing. We missed the morphing to human part.”
“Would you teach us?” oozed Miss Hunroe. “You’re so lucky to have learned.” She added smoothly, with a toothy smile, “We’d be so terribly grateful.”
Micky glanced at Molly. “We can’t teach you, Miss Hunroe,” he lied. “We never learned. We only found out how t
o morph into animals.”
“We saw you,” hissed Miss Hunroe. “We saw you reading the book. We were looking through Black’s office window. Checking on you. Making sure you were safe.”
“As rats?”
“As cats!” Miss Hunroe retorted.
“So you had already learned to morph into animals. Get your story straight.”
There was silence. Both Molly and Micky knew that Miss Hunroe and Miss Oakkton were lying. The magnitude of their deceit was as obvious as the stink in the sewer, and both twins saw how they had been used. As the truth dawned on them, a steeliness, a shared quality in the siblings that was usually latent, now galvanized their replies.
“You’re liars,” said Micky through gritted teeth.
“Think because we’re children, we’re stupid?” Molly asked coolly.
Micky turned to Molly. “Speal,” he said. “She must have learned animal morphing from the book when she saw it as a child. And she taught them,” he spat at Miss Hunroe. “You, Miss Hunroe, have two faces.”
“My dears. What’s gotten into you?” wooed Miss Hunroe, her lip curling. “It’s only fair to let us know—we’re so close to finding out anyway.”
“You’re as bad as Black,” Molly declared, growling. “You tricked us so that we could get you the book for you to learn to morph into humans. Anyway, as Micky said, we don’t know how.”
Miss Hunroe continued, disregarding her. “I saw you both as people just now.” Her voice took on a sing-songy lilt. “A rich lady and a waiter. Very clever!” Then she snapped. “Tell us how!”
Miss Oakkton pushed her face up to Molly’s. She smiled, baring big yellow teeth. “Tell us, or you vill feel ze bite of my teess.” Molly thought hard and tried to keep her cool. The simple escape route, she realized, was for Micky and her to morph into these rats that were Miss Oakkton and Miss Hunroe. But this would be very risky, for the women were strong characters and too knowledgeable about morphing. Molly remembered what the book had said—that it was important to choose your subjects carefully, as a strong personality and one that is alert might fight to stop a successful morph. And then where would Molly be? Stuck at the bottom of Miss Oakkton’s or Miss Hunroe’s mind forever? Her mind raced, and then she had an idea.
Instead of attacking, Molly tried another approach.
“We will tell you how to morph into humans,” she bargained, “if you tell us how to morph back into our own bodies. But you have to tell us first. That’s the deal.”
Miss Hunroe and Miss Oakkton looked shocked. Then they began tittering.
“What’s so funny?” Molly asked.
“You are fools!” Miss Hunroe said, laughing. “So you don’t know how to meego? That is hilarious!” She saw Molly’s puzzled expression, and added, “Meegoing is the term for morphing back into one’s own body.” She gave a shriek of laughter. “Hah! You don’t know how!”
“Hmm. Well, as I said, that’s the deal.”
Miss Hunroe narrowed her eyes. “Us telling you the meegoing secret before you tell us what we want to know is impossible,” she parleyed. “If we told you our secret, you’d never tell us yours. You’d be off out of here like a shot. No, the only way round is that you tell us the secret of morphing into humans first. Then we will tell you how to meego.” She laughed again. “The amusing part of this is that you don’t really have a choice. After all, you can’t keep morphing from creature to human to creature forever. You will hardly be able to sleep. Fall asleep in a body for too long, and you’ve had it. In any case, you can’t be in another creature for more than a few hours, for the creature starts to get its strength back. So, of course, when you sleep for more than a few hours in another creature or another human, its true owner will rise to take control of itself as you sleep. It will squash you, the sleeping you, deep down under it, and you will never get out. You will both be lost. Lost forever, in a rat or a bat or a gnat. Hah! No. You need the meego secret far more than we need the morph-to-human secret.”
Molly gulped and glanced at her brother. She could guess from his eyes that he too had been frightened by what Miss Hunroe had said. And that he too was wondering what other nasty outcomes there were in the world of body borrowing. She started to wish she hadn’t morphed at all.
The rat that was Miss Hunroe turned to the large scruffy rat that was Miss Oakkton. “Until now, I didn’t realize what an advantage we had!” Then, impatient suddenly, she spat at Molly and Micky. “You’d better tell us now.”
“Time to comply,” said Miss Oakkton, muscling forward. “Tell us! If you don’t, zere will be bad, bad consequences. I have no qualms about biting off your ears!”
Molly and Micky dropped their bodies lower on the shiny, cold floor.
“What, tell you so that you can get whatever you want in the human world? We’d be crazy to tell you,” Molly snarled.
“You can beat us up all you like,” Micky squeaked. “We aren’t going to tell you.”
“Perhaps I can morph into you and get the secret that way,” said Miss Hunroe sinisterly.
“Please do,” bluffed Molly. “You wouldn’t dare. That would be the end of you, you old goat.” She stared with hatred into Miss Hunroe’s eyes, wishing that she could hypnotize her. Miss Hunroe stared back, her eyes mean and cold.
“I look forward to ridding the world of people like you, Miss Moon,” she said nastily. “You have no idea how wonderful the world is going to be when I have my way. You have no idea! There will be hurricanes and droughts, and disease will cull. And people like you all over the world, millions and millions of you, will die. And what an empty paradise the world will then be! With only the chosen few left to enjoy it, it will be heaven!”
Molly stiffened. Miss Hunroe’s words were cruel and mad, but she made her predictions with a horrible certainty.
“Leave zem to me,” said Miss Oakkton, baring her knife sharp incisors. “A little torture will do ze trick.”
Suddenly there was a noise from above. All the rats looked up and froze. A dog had wedged its nose under the side of the drain cover and was now wrenching off the grille. All of a sudden, lots of light poured into the sewer. A Jack Russell stuck its pointy brown-and-white face down into the gutter. To all the rats he was a monster, a huge killer monster with a nightmare mouth. His growl chilled them to the core. His growl meant death.
Eleven
The Jack Russell barked ferociously down into the well of the sewer. It snapped with a terrible fury, ready to tear any rodent to pieces. Miss Hunroe and Miss Oakkton fled up the drain. Molly and Micky pushed their backs up to the cold, wet wall of the sewage gully.
“Run!” Micky cried, and turned tail. Molly started to follow Micky. Then she saw that behind the Jack Russell was a white-faced bulldog, and behind him, amazingly, a black pug! She gasped. She’d recognize that velvety face anywhere.
“I don’t believe it!” Molly the rat squeaked. “Micky! Micky, it’s Petula!”
As Micky stopped, so did Miss Hunroe and Miss Oakkton. Molly knew that time was against her. Hunroe and Oakkton were coming back. “Quick, morph into the white dog,” she whispered to Micky. “I’ll take the Jack Russell.”
And so, slinking flat to the wall to avoid the snapping jaws of the Jack Russell, Molly and Micky focused on becoming two of the canine creatures above.
Molly landed in the Jack Russell’s body with such an intensity that as soon as she arrived, his personality was flattened. Magglorian was overwhelmed.
Sorry, sorry, sorry, Molly thought to him. Please let me borrow you just for a bit!
Molly became aware of Magglorian’s brawny, nimble hunting body. His sense of smell was hers now. She was confronted with the stench of the sewer as the Jack Russell smelled it, reading so much more from its foul odors than she had as a rat. And, of course, she smelled rat.
Recognizing Miss Oakkton, Molly as Magglorian the Jack Russell growled as though to kill, and then, with hate-fueled determination, she bit. Molly caught Miss Oakkton’s filthy r
at ear between her teeth, and she tugged. She pulled the rat off the ground and shook it like a rag. Then she tossed Miss Oakkton sideways so that she flew, legs splayed, through the air into the stream of pooey water that rushed through the gutter.
Molly dug deeper into the drain. With a sharp bite, she got a nip of the rat that was Miss Hunroe. Then the two rats screeched and scurried away.
Molly barked viciously after them, watching with satisfaction as Miss Oakkton’s tail disappeared up the sewage pipe. With it, Molly realized, had gone the secret of how Molly and Micky might morph back into themselves.
Then Molly turned to see Petula looking at her.
Petula stared at Magglorian. She frowned and put her nose in her paws. Now she was feeling that Magglorian had become Molly. It must be the stress of the situation. The pressure was getting to her. She shut her eyes and shook her head.
Then a very peculiar thing happened. Magglorian said, “Petula. I know this is going to sound very strange, but this is me, Molly.” Petula opened her eyes wide and edged backward. “Don’t be scared,” Magglorian continued. “I’ve learned how to change shape—it’s called morphing. And Micky’s learned it, too. Look, he’s morphed into the body of your friend.”
Petula was stumped. She hadn’t told the two London dogs Micky’s name, so this must be true—Molly, her lovely Molly, was in the body of the Jack Russell.
“Molly?” she said unsurely.
“Yes, it’s me.”
This really was very strange for both Molly and Petula. For though Molly, with her human mind-reading skills had, on a few occasions, managed to decipher some of Petula’s thoughts, and Petula, with her dog-given extrasensory skills, had been able to detect Molly’s moods and whereabouts, neither had been able to properly understand each other and speak to each other.
