Molly Moon & the Morphing Mystery

also wasn’t an idiot.

“He makes morphing into humans sound like a piece of cake,” the boy was saying.

“Just don’t morph into a piece of cake,” the girl replied with a wry smile.

As the girl spoke, something caught Lily’s eye. Something was moving in the high slit window behind and above the twins. To her amazement, four cats’ faces were peering down at the children. Each cat was a different breed and a different color. Lily shrank back, feeling suddenly scared. For four cats to be standing on the outside sill of a slit window peering into a casino was very odd. Even though she was completely hidden, Lily felt very conspicuous, as though the cupboard door was transparent and made of glass. Now she really regretted that she’d ventured into her father’s office at all. She wished she’d stayed at school to do homework.

Four cats vied for position on the narrow sill to see what was going on in Black’s office.

“Just take the book now and leave, you idiots,” the white cat that was Miss Hunroe urged nastily. Then she noticed both Micky and Molly stop reading and turn their heads toward the door. “You fools!” she spat.

“Someone’s coming,” Molly hissed to Micky. “Quick!” She shut the book and slipped it back into the drawer. Grabbing the sleeve of Micky’s sweatshirt, she pulled him toward the floor behind the sofa.

“We’re so stupid, Molly. We should have—”

“Shh.” Molly strained her ear to the shuffling noise outside the room. Someone was opening the door.

Up on the window ledge, the fluffy white cat that was Miss Suzette and the gray Siamese that was Miss Teriyaki leaped away, leaving the white cat that was Miss Hunroe and the ginger cat, Miss Oakkton. They stood still as statues at the edge of the window, waiting to see what would happen next.

In the cupboard, Lily pushed the door a centimeter open to watch Molly and Micky disappear behind the sofa; then she quickly shut it again. Her father was going to be in the room soon. If she told him about the twins, at least he’d know that they were there. But then he’d be very, very cross with her. Lily winced. She hated the idea of being scolded. He hardly paid her much attention as it was, and she didn’t want her ration of the day to be taken up with him telling her off.

Theobald Black entered. From her hiding place, Molly caught sight of a black shoe and the bottom of his green velvet trouser leg. She bit her lip and gripped Micky’s wrist tightly. Micky pointed to a couple of ladybugs on the ground. Molly gave him a puzzled look. Micky then tapped the knotted boards of the wooden floor, pointing again, this time more emphatically, to the ladybugs. Without waiting for a response, he began staring intently at the pattern on the floorboard. Molly guessed what he was doing. It was a crazy thing to be attempting, but if morphing was real, it was definitely a very neat way of getting out of the room.

Then, before she’d expected anything to happen, Micky, amazingly, disappeared. His wrist vanished from Molly’s grasp as fast as a light turning off. Instead of him, Micky’s clothes, like a snake’s molted skin, lay bodyless in a heap on the floor. Molly’s eyes scrutinized the pile to try to see a ladybug. And there one was. It seemed to be jumping about. In fact, Molly could have sworn it was shaking its little legs as though it was doing a jig. Then it spread its wings and flew straight toward her, landing on her nose.

From her perch above, Miss Hunroe, the white cat, saw all of this. She splayed her claws in annoyance. Now her eyes were trained on Molly.

Molly felt the sofa move as Black dumped his full weight on it. He began to make a call. Molly listened to his heavy, congested voice as he spoke to someone.

“I’ll look for it, Terry. Probably dropped it here somewhere yesterday. Yes, then I’ll get him for you.”

Molly shivered and crossed her eyes as she tried to look at the ladybug on the end of her nose. She didn’t want to be caught red-handed in Black’s den. He was three times bigger than her and a hypnotist. He’d be too alert to be hypnotized, and he’d easily use his physical power to overcome her. Molly wouldn’t stand a chance.

She stared at the floor. Now Molly was desperate to follow Micky’s example. She concentrated on the weave of the wood of the floorboard. It was oak, streaked and knotted with dark brown marks. She focused on the pattern. She thought of nothing else. For a moment her mind faltered. All she could see were brown woody marks. There were no pictures, and she had to see pictures. If the book was right, that was the only way into morphing. Yet all she could see were mud-colored splodges.

Molly gulped and took a deep breath and breathed out slowly. With an enormous effort of will, she tried to forget about Black, and she tried to levitate her mind into a trance. She turned her scared feelings into careless feelings, light and easy. She let her mind drift away from the casino office. And soon her concentration brought a result. Black’s voice began to sound distant and small. Molly let her eyes linger over the pattern again. Now the lines began to move and twist as Molly’s imagination opened. And a hugely obvious picture sprang out from the lines and grooves—the image of a long finger with a painted fingernail poking a worm. Molly smiled. Now, still thinking of this picture, she focused on the ladybug that was walking up the wall.

The words of the book echoed in her head. Focus on your animal and enter its being. Molly considered the ladybug. She imagined what it felt like to have the six tiny legs. Then she thought of its curved shell with heavy folded wings on top. She let herself conjure up this feeling of what life must be like as a ladybug. She imagined antennae projecting from her head, and she thought about wanting to fly. And as she thought, still holding on to the image of the finger and the worm, she dropped into the essence of ladybug. And she threw herself forward, toward the insect.

A peculiar feeling, the likes of which she had never ever felt, shuddered through her. And Molly the human disappeared.

Seven

For a second Molly was all air, and then she was in the ladybug. It took a moment or two for her senses to adjust. She flowed into the insect’s body like water into a glass, her legs multiplying, her arms vanishing, and her back extending so that the creature’s wings were hers. And as she looked out through her antenna-raised eyes, she saw how minute she was. The area behind the sofa was like a valley, and the room was like a country. But the other strange thing that she hadn’t expected was that underneath her feeling of being herself was the feeling of another being—that of the ladybug!

The ladybug’s real self had been pushed down, packed down like sand into the bottom of a bucket. Every second it was squashed more as Molly’s character took over its body. Molly could sense it squeaking in horror. But she was the supreme force now, and though part of her knew that overcoming this other creature was wrong, the other side of her understood that now she was there, she had to be in charge, or she, Molly, would sink below the ladybug and be lost underneath its spirit forever. So, though she could sense the minuscule bleatings of the insect, she ignored them and concentrated instead on being the ladybug herself. She remembered the book’s words, about how she would be body borrowing, and Dr. Logan’s advice to be respectful. As she took possession of the insect’s body, she tried to communicate apologies to it.

I’m really sorry, she found herself thinking to it, in as ladybug a way as she could. I won’t be here forever. I’m just borrowing you for a bit. Thank you.

And as she thought this, the ladybug relaxed and let her in. From way down in the bottom of its brain, it looked up and saw into Molly’s mind. It saw some of Molly’s memories and thought processes. But its brain was far too basic to be able to understand what it was seeing. Molly, on the other hand, was able to comprehend the ladybug’s tiny mind. It had no concept of how big the world really was in a human way. It had no perception of the world being a globe, and yet it sensed where the moon and the sun were, even though neither was visible. It also had an instinct for water. Molly felt the tug of water on the other side of the sofa. There was a glass of water somewhere there. Perhaps it was on Black’s desk. Molly the ladybug knew the water was there with the same certainty that she knew she was awake. She could also sense the heat coming from Theobald Black’s body. It was a very strange sensation.

Then Molly nearly jumped out of her shell. A massive ladybug, like some sort of monster from a horror film, landed beside her. As suddenly as the surprise arrival of this creature had hit her, the shock subsided.

“Don’t know why we’re called ladybugs. I mean, I’m a boy.” Micky’s voice sounded high-pitched and thin, as