Molly Moon's Incredible Book of Hypnotism

by Georgia Byng

  In another minute she heard sucking noises and Miss Adderstone’s steps coming back. Molly hung her head, trying to look as ill as she could. Miss Adderstone entered and, without speaking, roughly pulled the thermometer from Molly’s mouth.

  As Miss Adderstone pushed her glasses up the ridge of her nose to inspect the thermometer, Molly started to grimace. “Miss Adderstone,” she groaned, making heaving movements with her body, “I think I’m going to be sick.”

  Miss Adderstone looked as though she thought she was about to be sprayed by a skunk. Urgently, she turned to get the sick bowl. “Where’s the …?” she began to ask. Then she saw it high up on the cupboard where Molly had put it.

  Molly was making retching noises, “Uuueeuughhh uuurgh,” and while Miss Adderstone stood on a stool to reach the bowl, Molly squirted some of the ketchup into her mouth and took a mouthful of water, too. When Miss Adderstone stepped down, with the sick bowl in her hand, Molly was ready.

  She seized the bowl. “Blaaauuuuuuurgh.” The fake pink sick splattered onto the steel. After a few more retches, “Uuuuurgh, uuuuuuuargh,” Molly felt satisfied that the performance had been very convincing.

  “Sorry, Miss Adderstone,” she said feebly.

  Miss Adderstone looked appalled. Taking a step back, she consulted the thermometer again. “Collect your things at once, dressing gown, toothbru—” Miss Adderstone faltered. “Get your belongings. Then go to the sanatorium. You’ve got a temperature of one hundred and three degrees. Trust you. I hope we don’t all catch it. And wash that filthy bowl.”

  Molly felt like cheering and punching the air, so thrilled was she to have fooled Miss Adderstone, but she didn’t show it. She shuffled dolefully back to the bedroom, put on her thin dressing gown and her slippers, and took a cardigan from her drawer as well as her laundry bag, which, of course, held the hypnotism book. Then she made her way up the bottle-green linoleum staircase.

  Up one flight, she passed the landing to Miss Adderstone’s apartment, with its heavy mahogany furniture and its severe portrait of Miss Adderstone herself. Petula’s purple cushion lay on the floor, and next to it sat a collection of small flint stones and pieces of gravel. It was Petula’s particular habit to suck stones. Beside the stones was a saucer full of chocolate cookies.

  Molly continued up one more flight to the sanatorium room. She opened the door and, since the November day was a sunny one, found it was warm inside. It wasn’t a proper sanatorium with lots of rooms and beds. It was just one little attic room. Dust motes danced in the shafts of light that poured through the window, and dead flies lay at the bottom of the windowpane. A brass bed stood against the yellow wall. Molly took the horrible plastic bottom sheet off its mattress, since she wasn’t planning to wet the bed. Then she settled down to read.

  Molly decided to skip the rest of Chapter One, “Practice on Yourself,” as she reckoned that she’d already spent years learning how to dream and going into trances. She turned instead to Chapter Two.

  HYPNOTIZING ANIMALS

  Now that you have mastered the art of entering a trance, you are ready to hypnotize an animal. Hypnotizing animals is a difficult art—more difficult than hypnotizing human beings. But if you achieve what I call the Fusion Feeling” when you are hypnotizing animals, you will recognize the Fusion Feeling” later when you are hypnotizing people, and that will be very useful to you.

  If you don’t get the Fusion Feeling,” animals and people are not properly hypnotized.

  Step One: Go into a trance yourself.

  Step Two: In your trance, think of the animal (dog, cat, lion) that you are going to hypnotize. Think about the essence of that animal. Try to become that animal.

  Molly shut the book and put it under her covers. She stared at the light that played on the yellow wall, and she started to transport herself into a trance, up a sort of misty slope, away from the world, and into her mind. She quickly felt distant and floaty, and soon her surroundings looked like a blur, except for the light on the wall. Then Molly shut her eyes and, following the book’s instructions, she thought of her animal. Petula, Miss Adderstone’s pet dog. She would be Molly’s subject.

  Think about the essence of that animal. Try to become that animal. Dr. Logan’s words drifted through Molly’s mind.

  The essence of Petula. Molly concentrated on the velvety-furred pug. She was a bad-tempered dog, spoiled and cossetted, overfed and lazy. How had she become so bad-tempered? She was the only dog Molly had ever met that was always bad-tempered. Molly saw her in her mind—her solid, black-haired frame, her crooked front legs that were bent because of her fat, overweight body, her turned-up tail, her squashed face, the white mark on her forehead, her snarl, her bad breath, her bulging eyes. In her trance Molly imagined staring into Petula’s dull, watery eyes. Closer and closer she got, until Petula’s eyes were the size of black billiard balls, then black basketballs, then huge black medicine balls. And then, as Petula’s eyes seemed to blow up to the size of two black hot-air balloons, Molly’s mind slipped under them into Petula’s doggy mind.

  She found herself feeling doggy. She felt her four sturdy legs, her ears, her highly sensitive nose. She smelled the chocolate on the floor beside her, she smelled the musty velvet cushion underneath her. This was amazing. She was actually smelling Petula’s hairy cushion. Then she felt her tummy, swollen and overstuffed. She felt sick—from all the chocolate cookies that Miss Adderstone fed her. Ow! It really hurt. Molly knew just how Petula felt and even found herself making a whining, growling noise in sympathy. “Ggrrrrr.”

  Molly heard Miss Adderstone’s cuckoo clock strike eight in the distance, and she opened her eyes. So that was why Petula was such a grumpy, unfriendly dog. She had a tummyache from eating too many cookies.

  Molly felt as though a door had suddenly been opened in her head. She was stunned that she’d so easily understood Petula. And she wondered what other skills lay inside her. Skills that Dr. Logan’s lessons would enable her to use. If Molly learned every lesson in the book as quickly as this, she’d soon be an expert.

  For a moment, Molly faltered. Actually she hadn’t done anything yet. Maybe she’d made up Petula’s feelings. Eagerly, Molly opened the book again. She’d soon see if hypnotizing Petula was really possible. All she had to do was follow Step Three.

  Six

  When everyone had left for school, Molly heard Miss Adderstone’s clipped steps as she grudgingly made her way up to the infirmary. Miss Adderstone was relieved to find that Molly was asleep. Holding her nose, she crossed the room and left a note on Molly’s table.

  Not long afterward, Molly heard Miss Adderstone’s feet crunching across the gravel outside. As the iron gates swung creakily open, Molly looked out the window in time to see Miss Adderstone tottering toward her minibus. She was going somewhere, but without Petula. Now was Molly’s chance to experiment on a real subject! She speedily read Step Three in the “Hypnotizing Animals” chapter.

  Finding the essence of your animal may take you weeks, but do not give up. Find the “voice” that fits your animal.

  Well, Molly had already done that. She’d growled exactly like Petula.

  Step Four: Face your animal, slowly approaching it if necessary. Think of the animal’s voice, and now perform it slowly and calmly. Repeat the animal’s voice, in a lulling way, until the animal becomes rocked into a trance. A pendulum may be used. (All students of hypnotism should aquire a pendulum. Study Chapter Four.) Once the animal is in a trance, you will know it from the Fusion Feeling.

  Molly shut the book and went to the attic landing. She looked over the banister and could just see Petula snoring noisily on her velvet cushion. Molly quietly slipped down the stairs until she was ten feet away from Petula. Half closing her eyes, she concentrated on Petula in her mind, until the growl came out of her mouth again. Molly tailored the growl so that it was slower and more rhythmical.

  “Ggrrrr—grrrrr—grrrrrrr,” she went. For a moment she felt silly, but then, seeing Petula
’s ears prick up and her eyes open, Molly concentrated seriously.

  The little dog saw Molly and heard her making a familiar noise. Petula listened and cocked her head to one side. Normally she would have growled, since a child approaching usually meant there was a risk of her being picked up. And how Petula hated being picked up. It always made her tummy hurt. The stupid boss was always picking her up, and how painful it was. But this child was sympathetic. The noises this child was making were comforting. Petula saw that the child was getting closer, but she didn’t mind. In fact, Petula wanted her close, so that she could look into her lovely green eyes. She liked the way the child’s voice was making her feel relaxed.

  Soon Molly was only a foot away from Petula. Petula’s black eyes stared straight at her.

  “GRRRRR—grrrrrr—GGRRRRR—grrrrrr.” Molly growled her essence-of-Petula growl, hoping the hypnotism would work soon. And all of a sudden Petula’s eyes glazed over, as if a pair of curtains had been shut behind them. It was a peculiar thing to watch. And while she watched, Molly felt a warm, fuzzy feeling rising from her toes all the way up her body to the roots of the hair on her head. It was the fusion feeling that Dr. Logan had described. Molly stopped making her noises. Petula sat like a stuffed dog, staring into space. Molly had done it! She could hardly believe it. This was amazing! She’d actually hypnotized an animal!

  Now, thought Molly, she could “suggest” things to Petula, but then she realized with annoyance that this would be difficult since she didn’t speak dog. How she’d love to tell Petula to drool in Miss Adderstone’s sherry glass, or to bite her ankles, or to roll in a cow pat and then sleep on Miss Adderstone’s bed. Suddenly Molly thought of the best thing she could do for Petula. She would put her off the chocolate cookies that Miss Adderstone constantly fed her. Petula ate the cookies out of habit and greed, not realizing they were making her feel ill and bad-tempered. Molly reached in her pocket for her half-used ketchup packet.

  Petula looked up at the girl in front of her, who was the nicest, most sympathetic person she’d ever met. The girl was holding one of her chocolate cookies and squirting something disgusting all over it. Something red. Petula knew it must be revolting because the girl was making horrid faces at the red stuff. The cookie seemed very unappetizing now. And the girl thought so too. She was making retching noises. And Petula trusted the girl. In her doggy mind she knew that she must remember what this nice girl was showing her. Chocolate cookies were bad, bad, bad.

  Then the girl stroked Petula’s head, and Petula liked her even more. The girl started to make soft growling noises again, and as she moved away she uttered a sharp bark. This snapped Petula out of her trance.

  Petula shook her floppy ears with a puzzled expression on her face. She didn’t remember what had happened in the last ten minutes, but she felt different. For some reason a new feeling had come over her: that she didn’t like chocolate cookies anymore. But she very much liked the person sitting on the stairs.

  Molly waved at Petula. “Good girl,” she said.

  Petula still had a tummyache, but she liked this girl so much that she made her way up the stairs for a stroke. She wagged her tail, which was a lovely sensation, because she hadn’t wagged it for weeks.

  Molly patted Petula and felt very satisfied. Then she went to the bathroom and flushed the ketchup-covered chocolate cookie away.

  Although Molly’s stomach rumbled a lot that morning from hunger, she didn’t care. She was devouring the hypnotism book. At lunchtime, smells of baked eel—Miss Adderstone and Edna’s lunch-wafted upstairs. Molly nipped down to Petula’s landing and was very pleased to see that she hadn’t touched any of her cookies. Molly had chocolate cookies for lunch.

  At four o’clock Molly heard everyone arriving back from school and Miss Adderstone filling Petula’s cookie bowl. When everyone was at tea, Molly took three of the cookies. Half an hour later she heard a car outside. Molly peered from her window to see the American visitors arrive—a thin, bearded man and a woman in a pink head scarf. Miss Adderstone, in her turquoise polyester suit and on her best behavior, was squawking, “Welcome, come in.” For a moment Molly felt a pang of longing. If only it might be her who was chosen and taken away. Whisked away like Satin Knight and Moses Wicker had been. But she knew that adoption was a rare thing, and that if anyone were chosen today, it definitely wouldn’t be her. And anyway, when she thought of her book, life at the orphanage didn’t seem quite so bad.

  Twice more that day the cookie bowl was filled. Each time, Molly sneaked downstairs to help herself, and in this way she was able to keep her hunger at bay.

  Molly read late into the night, concentrating hard on Dr. Logan’s lessons. When she finally turned the light off, she had the warm, comfortable feeling that time was on her side. She could be ill for at least another day before Miss Adderstone came to investigate. She could survive on Petula’s cookies and absorb Dr. Logan’s wisdom at her leisure. In a few days she would have the secrets of the book well and truly stowed away in her head. It was annoying that two of the chapters had been torn out, but she could learn everything from the other seven. She couldn’t wait to tell Rocky about her find. Their argument now seemed petty beside the powerful secrets of the hypnotism book. Molly lay in bed, wondering where she could find a pendulum.

  The image of the bad-tempered professor in the library crossed her mind. Molly felt slightly guilty. This must be the best textbook about hypnotism in existence, written by one of the world’s most famous hypnotists. The poor professor’s research would be incomplete without Dr. Logan’s thoughts upon the subject, and he had come thousands of miles for it. No wonder he was so angry. Well, Molly thought, she’d put the book back after she’d finished with it. Then he could pore over it for years. And with her conscience appeased, she drifted off to sleep.

  She didn’t give the professor another thought. And that was her big mistake.

  Seven

  The next morning Molly was woken from a deep sleep by Petula trying to jump on her bed. When Molly looked down, Petula dropped a stone on the floor as a present. She seemed much chirpier. Molly pulled her up onto the bed and scrunched her ears.

  “I’m the one who should be thanking you, Petula. You’ve really helped me, you know.”

  Petula tapped Molly’s chest with her paw as if to say, “No, you’re the one who’s helped me.”

  So they were friends.

  Molly swung her legs out of the bed and went to the window. She could just see the church clock over the slated village roofs. It was nine o’clock. The other children were already out on their Saturday-morning walk.

  Miss Adderstone liked to drive the children in the minibus to the far side of a hill called St. Bartholomew’s Hump, ten miles away. Dropping them there, she expected them to walk up the Hump and back over hilly countryside to the orphanage. This gave Miss Adderstone three and a half hours to herself, which she always spent in town, having her corns clipped and her bunions seen to, and then perhaps somewhere for a couple of glasses of sherry.

  Which meant that Molly had roughly three hours until everyone returned.

  Wasting no time, she put on her dressing gown and left the room. It was lovely to be able to slide down the banister with no one around. Petula bounded after her, rushing into Miss Adderstone’s apartment through her dog flap, and out again with her leash in her mouth. She followed Molly down to the ground floor. Molly walked through the hall, then skidded across the polished wood floor of the assembly room. Down to the kitchens they went, down the slope past the cutlery drawers and the plate racks. Edna could be heard clanking metal saucepans as she started to prepare lunch. Molly walked stealthily on, in her head turning over the lessons she had learned from Chapter Three, “Hypnotizing Others,” and Chapter Four, “Pendulum Hypnosis.”

  In the attic room Molly had already made an imaginary journey into Edna’s head. There she’d found a disgruntled person, full of resentment, bored by life and tired of working. Molly thought she knew how t
o hypnotize Edna. It shouldn’t be too difficult. After all, grunting Edna was very like an animal. And if it all went wrong, Edna would just think she was strange. Molly walked into the old-fashioned kitchen with its cracked white-tile walls, its broken sinks, its two gas ovens, and its flagstone floor. Petula followed.

  Edna was taking chicken heads out of a bag and putting them into a huge saucepan of boiling water.

  “Er, hello, Edna,” Molly said. “That smells nice.”

  Edna jumped and then shot Molly a dirty look. “You’re bleedin’ creepy, you are, creepin’ about like that,” she said.

  Molly tried again. “What’s that you’re making?”

  “Bloody soup, of course,” grunted Edna, pulling a feather off one of the chicken heads. For once Edna’s language was correct; the soup really was bloody, with all the chicken heads in it.

  “Yum,” said Molly, her stomach turning. “A navy recipe?”

  “’Spect you’ve come for something to blasted eat. Better not be bleedin’ infectious.”

  “You look bleedin’ uncomfortable,” said Molly suddenly.

  “Course I look bleedin’ uncomfortable,” Edna retorted. “I am bleedin’ uncomfortable. This kitchens too ‘ot.” She pulled at her white apron and flapped her arms, reminding Molly of a big, fat turkey.

  “Why don’t you sit down,” suggested Molly. “I’ll stir the blasted soup, and you can make yourself comfortable. Come on, Edna. You bleedin’ deserve it.”

  Edna looked suspiciously at Molly. But something in Molly’s words made her feel at ease.

  “If you sit down, you’ll feel more comfortable,” Molly coaxed.