“But you have it good on Earth too,” said Mo consolingly.
“Sometimes we play hooky,” said Konrad with a bad conscience.
“I never do,” exclaimed Lottie. “Now we have vacation.” She was very proud about being in school already.
“Do your parents give you permission to drive the speedboats to the mountains all by yourselves?” Gretel asked.
Mo was surprised. “But that isn’t anything bad,” she said. “We children on Asra can do all we wish.”
“Then you never get a spanking?” Otto called out.
“Spanking?” Mo asked in growing amazement. “What is that?”
“Spanking is if you get your backside slapped,” said Otto. Mo eyed him, dumbfounded.
“Don’t pay any attention to him!” Walter said hastily. “He’s just envious.”
“Do you go to church?” Erna wanted to know.
Mo smiled cheerfully. “Why, yes,” she said. “Our church is as big as a mountain. It is made of transparent marble. Its roof is of silver and its tower of gold. The bell is as big as a house. We can even hear it up in the mountains, when we are very, very far away. Then we fly back in our planes to go to church. Sometimes we are many thousands of children. We all sing in the choir. That is very nice and solemn. What is that?” she called suddenly and stared outside, her eyes wide.
There was a rainbow on the horizon. The sun had pierced the clouds, and the rain had changed into a fine drizzle.
“That’s a rainbow,” said Otto. But he did not go into any further explanation because he was not quite sure himself what caused a rainbow.
“That is nice,” said Mo admiringly.
Walter, lost in thought, was chewing on a blade of grass.
“Asra must be beautiful,” he murmured to himself.
“Don’t you ever get bored?” asked Erna. “I get awfully bored sometimes.”
“We always have a lot to do,” explained Mo. “We fly all over Asra and visit other children. Each year we have a great children’s festival on our artificial moon….”
“Artificial moon!” Willy interrupted her excitedly. “You have an artificial moon?”
Mo nodded. “We don’t have a Moon like the Earth. Our grownups made one themselves, just for us children. There we meet each year and have games. We also put on plays and dancing contests….”
“Can you dance too?” asked Gretel anxiously.
“I’ve won a prize,” said Mo proudly.
“Oh, please, please dance for us!” begged Lottie.
Mo jumped up, ran to the middle of the barn, and began to dance. She did a pretty pirouette, making her little silk skirt stand straight out. She performed graceful leaps like a real ballet dancer and hummed a strange yet gay tune. At the end she dropped to one knee and held out her arms in a charming gesture.
The children applauded gleefully.
“You dance marvelously,” exclaimed Gretel.
“I wish I could dance too,” called Lottie.
“Dancing isn’t so hard,” growled Konrad. “I dance very well.”
“You?” cried Willy. “You dance like an elephant in a circus. Look at me!” He jumped on the milking stool and was about to execute a daring turn when he got trapped by his own feet. He fell flat on his nose. The others doubled up with laughter. Only Mo was upset. She knelt beside him and asked anxiously, “Are you hurt?”
Willy sat up and grinned. “Me?” he said. “I’ve even fallen off a roof without getting hurt!”
“That’s not true,” shouted Erna angrily.
“It is too true,” yelled Willy.
“It has stopped raining!” Walter interrupted cheerfully.
They ran out and looked around. The sun was shining, and the rainbow had paled. Meanwhile, the field had turned into a swamp. Konrad, Willy, and Erna waded across; the others had to take off their shoes and socks. “Shall I too take off my shoes and stockings?” Mo asked hesitatingly.
“That won’t be necessary,” said Walter. “I’ll carry you.” He put his arms around her, lifted her up, and carried her to the road. He was a strong boy, but even so he was flushed from the effort. Next he fetched his bicycle. He helped Mo up and was about to take off, but Willy held on to him and asked, “Couldn’t you really give us a lift? We would like to be there when you arrive at your house with Mo.”
“Full up,” said Walter with determination.
“I could stand on the spur of Otto’s hind wheel,” said Konrad.
“How do you like that!” pouted Otto indignantly. “Both my tires would blow!”
They took off, and Willy, Erna, and Konrad stared after them with disappointment written on their faces. Walter pedaled furiously, leaving a spray of raindrops in his wake.
Six
Too Many Thrillers?
The children rode through the town, a sleepy little place in the lonely Holle Mountains. They stopped in front of a small house that stood at the end of Holle Road and rested their bikes against a fence. The house was tiny and unpretentious, but it was colorfully decorated, and flower boxes with geraniums adorned the windows. Rambler roses were climbing up the walls of the house, which stood in a small field with a few fruit trees. The smoke rising from the chimney on the red roof was a signal that the noon meal would soon be ready.
“Is that your house?” asked Mo.
“Yes,” said Walter, self-conscious because it was the smallest house in the region.
“It is pretty,” Mo said.
“Really?” exclaimed Gretel, relieved.
“We have such roses too,” said Mo and pointed to the arbor roses. She seemed very happy to have discovered something familiar on earth.
The children were a bit exhausted from racing home. Gretel looked flushed and wind-blown, and Otto rubbed the calves of his legs with a groan.
“Are your parents good people?” Mo asked anxiously.
“They are very good people,” smiled Walter.
“They won’t do me harm?” asked Mo.
“You needn’t be afraid!” said Walter. “Come.” He took her by the hand and walked her toward the house.
Lottie, unable to wait, had already run ahead. She burst into the kitchen, all agog, and shouted: “Mummy, Mummy! We’ve found a girl from a different world.”
Mrs. Brenner, who just then was standing at the stove cooking potato soup, turned in astonishment. “What did you find?” she asked.
“Gretel said we will be rich and famous, Mummy!” shrieked Lottie.
Walter and Gretel entered with Mo. Otto followed. He took off his cap and with it shielded the front of his jacket, as he had torn off a button when he was looking for mushrooms. Otto liked to be neat.
“Yes, Mom!” said Walter. “Just imagine! We found a girl in the forest who comes from another planet!”
“She is eighty-seven years old!” Gretel exclaimed breathlessly.
“She comes from Asra,” shouted Lottie.
All this at once was too much for Mrs. Brenner. She was a good mother and adored her children, but she did not like to be fooled.
“Who is the child?” she asked.
Mo looked around in astonishment, as though she suddenly had been transplanted into fairyland. The fire in the stove, the old rocking chair, the rickety couch against the wall, the table and chairs, all these intrigued her greatly.
“Her name is Mo,” said Walter.
“The child is well dressed,” said Mrs. Brenner. “She must have rich parents. Where is she from?”
“But, Mom!” exclaimed Walter. “We just told you, she is from another planet.”
“She has never been on earth before,” said Gretel, her cheeks flushed with excitement.
“Her father is on the moon!” shrieked Lottie.
Mrs. Brenner eyed each child suspiciously, but all she saw were innocent and excited faces. “Max,” she called, “please come here!”
“Where’s the fire?” a voice responded from outside, and Mr. Brenner appeared at the back door. He was smoking a pipe an
d was holding an ax, having just chopped some kindling for the stove.
“The children insist that they have found a little girl in the woods who came from another planet,” said Mrs. Brenner.
“Kids find all sorts of things in the woods. Did you also find mushrooms?” he asked mockingly.
“I found a lot of mushrooms, but Walter said I should leave them under the spruce,” said Otto reproachfully.
“Well, that will make the rabbits and deer happy,” said Mr. Brenner. Then with a start he asked his wife incredulously: “Did you say the children found a girl from another planet?”
“It’s true!” said Walter. “She arrived this morning in a space ship.”
“That is a world-shattering event!” screamed Lottie.
“She is taking off again tonight, and we shall take her there,” said Gretel.
Mr. Brenner smiled. “Why, you really have thought up something entirely new this time,” he said.
The children were baffled. Gretel impatiently pushed her curls back, eyes sparkling. “Father,” she cried, “you don’t by any chance think that we are lying?”
“Oh, no,” answered Mr. Brenner. “It’s just that you’ve read too many of those thrillers lately.” Then he became serious and said, “There are no human beings on other planets.”
“There are too!” shouted Lottie angrily.
“There are canals on Mars,” explained Otto, eying Mr. Brenner over the top of his glasses with the air of a professor.
“They say there are flying saucers!” Walter added.
“Did you see her arrive in a flying saucer?” asked Mr. Brenner.
“No,” said Walter.
“She fell out of her space ship by accident,” chirped Lottie.
“She fell on a tree and then jumped down. She told us exactly how everything looks on Asra,” said Gretel.
“The child told you that?” asked Mr. Brenner.
“Yes,” cried the children.
Mr. Brenner pointed with his pipe at Mo. “Is she the one from another planet?” he asked.
“Her name is Mo,” said Lottie.
“Come here, child.” Mr. Brenner beckoned Mo. She was startled. Lost in thought, she had been admiring the squat kerosene lantern that hung from the ceiling. Frightened now, she looked at Mr. Brenner.
“Why don’t you put the ax down, Max!” said Mrs. Brenner.
“Of course, yes,” said Mr. Brenner, and put it next to the back door. Then he sat down on a chair, leaned forward, and smiled at Mo. “Do come here, child! I won’t harm you.” Walter nodded to Mo encouragingly. She walked up to Mr. Brenner and timidly said, “How do you do?”
“The child is a beauty,” whispered Mrs. Brenner. Mr. Brenner offered Mo his big, callused hand.
“The Lord bless you, my child,” he said.
Mo quickly grasped his hand and bravely tried to shake it. “Are we now friends?” she asked.
Mr. Brenner took a few vigorous puffs on his pipe. “Of course we are friends,” he said. “I love children. Now, tell me, where are you from?”
“Why do you belch smoke?” asked Mo.
“Hm,” said Mr. Brenner, startled. “I’m smoking a pipe. Doesn’t your father smoke too?”
“Nobody belches smoke at home,” said Mo disapprovingly.
“Everything is different on Asra!” said Lottie. She placed herself close to her father and anxiously watched his face.
“Asra?” said Mr. Brenner. “What is Asra?”
“Asra is a planet,” said Walter. “Mo doesn’t know what we call it.”
“So you’re from a different planet, my child?” said Mr. Brenner.
Mo nodded eagerly. “We stopped on your Moon,” she said.
“Is that right?” said Mr. Brenner. “Have you ever been on earth before?”
“No,” said Mo.
“And you arrived this morning?” he asked.
“I fell out,” said Mo, a bit ashamed.
Mr. Brenner slumped back in his chair and crossed his arms. “If this is the first time you’ve been here, how then do you speak our language so well?” he asked, smiling shrewdly.
Mo did not answer. The children were taken aback. In their excitement they had never thought of that. How could Mo speak their language? Nervously they stared at her.
Seven
The Child Is Sick
Mr. Brenner waited patiently for Mo’s answer. Finally he said, “Well, child, can you answer me?”
Mo eyed him with distrust. “Promise,” she said suddenly.
“Promise?” Mr. Brenner was surprised. “What should I promise?” he asked.
“Nobody is supposed to know,” said Mo, looking worried. “Promise that you will not break your word.”
“I promise,” said Mr. Brenner with good humor.
Mo bent forward and whispered to him. “My father has been secretly on Earth several times. He speaks many of your languages. We can also listen to your radios on Asra.”
Mr. Brenner blinked a few times but remained silent.
“He agreed to take me along on this trip only if I learned your language,” continued Mo. Then she wrung her hands and sighed. “My, it was difficult. I studied very hard, but it took me twenty years before my father was satisfied.” She nodded earnestly.
“Twenty years—!” said Mr. Brenner, and again forgot to draw on his pipe. “How old are you really, my child?”
“I am only eighty-seven,” said Mo modestly.
“Only eighty-seven!” murmured Mr. Brenner and frowned. “Just imagine! But why did your father want you to learn our language?” he asked.
Mo hesitated and rubbed her nose. Finally she said, “So we would not give ourselves away in case we ran into human beings.” She laughed merrily and stood on her toes to peer over Mr. Brenner’s shoulder.
“But that is funny,” she exclaimed. “Who is that?”
The Brenners’ fat black tomcat had sneaked in by the back door. He stretched himself, sat down with care, and stared at Mo without moving. The children laughed.
“That is our cat, Philip,” explained Gretel.
Lottie ran to take him in her arms and brought him to Mo. “You may pet him,” she said.
But Mo was afraid. “Is that too an animal?” she asked.
“Yes,” said Lottie.
“Does he bite?” asked Mo.
“Philip only scratches at times,” said Walter. “But he is a kind animal.”
Mrs. Brenner walked up to her husband, clasped her hands over her apron, and looked at him inquiringly. “Max, who is the child? Where is she from? And why does she tell all that?”
“The child is sick,” said Mr. Brenner. “Her hands are hot. She probably has fever.”
“You think she is delirious?” Mrs. Brenner asked with concern.
Pensively, Mr. Brenner scratched the back of his head. “Looks that way; she doesn’t seem quite all there,” he said softly.
Mrs. Brenner looked at Mo, frightened. “Why does the child keep that kerchief over her head?” she called to her children.
Lottie dropped Philip and rushed up. “She jumped from the tree and banged her head,” she called.
“Aha,” said Mr. Brenner, and gave his wife a meaningful nod.
“Let me have a look!” said Mrs. Brenner, and undid Mo’s kerchief. “Oh, dear,” she cried, “that does look nasty!” She went to the sink, returned with a damp cloth and soap, and carefully cleaned the wound. Mr. Brenner brought some adhesive tape and gauze and put in on Mo’s forehead.
“Does it hurt?” he asked.
“No thanks,” said Mo nicely.
“Do you feel ill?” said Mrs. Brenner.
“Mo is not sick!” said Walter uneasily.
“She even danced for us,” said Lottie.
“Are you hungry?” Mrs. Brenner asked Mo.
“What is that?” queried Mo.
“Would you like something to eat?” asked Mrs. Brenner.
“Do human beings eat too?” inquired M
o with interest.
Mrs. Brenner nodded.
“We eat a pill, one a day,” said Mo, “and each morning we drink the juice of blossoms. It keeps us healthy.”
“We have potato soup with bacon dumplings!” said Lottie with fervor.
“What is potato soup and bacon dumplings?” asked Mo.
“Something awfully good!” insisted Gretel, proudly glancing at Otto.
“Louise,” said Mr. Brenner firmly, “we cannot give the child any food. She has a concussion and should be in bed.”
“But, Max,” said Mrs. Brenner excitedly, “we can’t just keep a strange child here and put her to bed. The child has lost her way, or maybe she ran away from home. I’m sure her parents are already desperately looking for her.”
The children had been listening with mounting astonishment.
“Her father is on the moon!” shouted Lottie, close to tears.
“Her mother is visiting on another planet,” shouted Gretel. Mr. and Mrs. Brenner paid no attention.
“Max, you had better take the child right to the police station,” said Mrs. Brenner resolutely.
The children were horrified. “No, no, no,” they cried. Even Otto was upset.
“We promised to take her into the forest tonight,” pleaded Walter. “Right after sunset we are supposed to keep walking toward Asra until we reach a big, level clearing. That is where her father will pick her up in a space ship!”
“But, children,” said Mr. Brenner, “do you really believe that this girl—just like that—has arrived from another planet?”
The children were beside themselves.
“Yes!” Walter yelled furiously. Never before had he dared to yell at his parents, and he immediately was very sorry he had.
Mr. and Mrs. Brenner were no less taken aback. “You surely are a trusting soul, son,” his father said, shaking his head.
Now Otto intervened courageously. “Couldn’t we first take Mo into the woods?” he proposed. “Then we will see whether her father comes or not. If he comes, we will know that he comes—I mean, if he doesn’t come, we will know that he is not coming and …” He gave up, feeling rattled. This didn’t often happen, for Otto was smart. He was at the top of his class.
“Rubbish,” said Mr. Brenner. Otto was hurt.
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