Melinda waited only a second before scurrying after him, barely making it through the door before it shut.
The professor glided down the hallway at an incredible speed, his long strides becoming increasingly difficult to keep up with, especially on tiny turtle feet. He walked to the end of the hallway, pausing briefly in front of a bookcase; then in one smooth motion he pulled the bookcase open to reveal a dark passageway. Melinda stayed neatly behind him, her tail almost being caught when the professor pulled the hidden doorway shut behind him. Safely out of sight, he clicked on a light and continued walking purposefully down the drab stone passage that eventually led down two flights of stairs.
Melinda was finding it impossible to keep up, and it wasn’t long before she lost sight of the professor. By the time she reached the bottom of the stairs she was out of breath and shivering. Stumpworthy was gone.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Without warning the light went out and the passage was plunged into darkness. Melinda’s eyes strained to see what was happening around her but it was no use. Surprised at not having the nocturnal vision of a mouse, she froze her movements so that she could hear the shuffling of footsteps or the squeak of a door―anything that might offer a clue as to what was going on around her―but the only sound she could hear was her own breathing.
The impenetrable darkness surrounded her, making her feel disoriented and dizzy. She had never been in a place so totally black, without light of any kind, where it was difficult to tell which way was up and which way was down. She was afraid to move but afraid to stay in place as a choking sensation of panic rose up from her stomach and into her throat. Then a faint amber glow, up near the top of the last flight of stairs, illuminated the passageway.
She leapt up with incredible speed to the first step, then to the second, third, fourth and all the way to the top, but by the time her feet landed on the cold stone, the thread of golden light was gone. I’ve got to get out of here, she thought desperately.
She thought fleetingly about transforming but was too frightened to concentrate. She crouched down low and rocked back and forth while she tried to figure out what to do. Suddenly a warm breeze tickled her face. She shivered involuntarily and continued to rock slowly as the warmth of the invisible wind caressed her body. It seemed to be directly in front of her, so she took a tiny step forward and felt the warm air wash all around her. Another step and the warmth rippled down her sides; one more step and it brushed the top of her head. In only a few more slow steps the breeze was gone and Melinda collided with the wall.
“Warm air doesn’t come out of walls unless there’s an opening,” she said to herself, and began searching the wall with her front paws. The cold stone was solid, but remembering the hidden doorway in the hallway upstairs, she didn’t give up. The warm current was gone as she made her way along the base of the wall, first one way, then the other. There didn’t seem to be any kind of opening, crack or hole that would let air come through.
“I didn’t imagine it,” she snapped. “I know I felt warm air!” She retraced her steps, patting the stone wildly and sniffing for any kind of scent other than the musty smell of the passage. Still she found nothing. Shuffling back to the centre of the step, she felt the subtle warmth across her back. She looked up into the blackness―but it wasn’t coming from above. The breeze was definitely coming from behind her, which meant that it had to be coming through the wall.
She turned slowly back around, taking a single step towards the wall, then stopped, feeling the warmth centre on her face. Another step forward and the breeze swept across her eyes. Two more steps and the air ruffled the hair on top of her head. Her lips curled into a smile and she made her way quickly over to the wall, stretching herself up to reach as high as she could; but the current was gone. Backing away a few paces, she took a deep breath and then sprang up as high as she could, reaching out with her tiny green paws in hopes of catching a deviation in the wall and perhaps finding the opening that was letting in warm air. She found it on her first try, as she grasped a stony ledge and felt the warm current blow across her knuckles. Her hind legs scrambled up to join them and she pushed her body forward through an opening.
A strange steely glow greeted her when she emerged out of the hole and into a colourless room illuminated only by a few tiny lights obscured from view high above her head. It was a large room, sparsely furnished with tall cabinets and a few stools, similar to a kitchen, but she knew from the acrid smell that it was not. She had visited her father’s workplaces enough to know that she was standing in a laboratory.
Her heart raced when she thought that this might be the laboratory where her father was working. It made sense, she thought, that this lab was right underneath the house. She scouted along the wall in search of a bed where she hoped to find her father asleep, where he might be catching a few minutes of rest before resuming his work to find a cure for Felix. She scurried along the perimeter of the room but didn’t find so much as a chair that might provide a comfortable spot to take a little respite from his work.
She sighed, deciding that she had seen enough for the night and would tell Joe all about her findings the next day. She turned to leave, but stopped abruptly when she heard a small, squeaky cry somewhere above her. She was sure that the sound resonated from on top of one of the cabinets, but it was impossible to tell for sure from her vantage point. Again the cry broke the silence, becoming insistent, almost desperate.
Melinda ran over to a nearby stool and leapt up to the first horizontal rung that ran between the legs. Balancing precariously like a circus performer, she leapt up again to the next rung. The next step was more difficult, as she had to leap upward and outward, then grasp hold of the seat of the stool. Next she pulled herself up as if she were simply climbing out of a swimming pool, swung her legs up to catch hold, and was on top of the stool in seconds. An easy leap from there and she was on the counter.
Sparkling glass vials and shiny silver scientific instruments were everywhere. She wandered along the hard, cold counter in awe of the forest of scientific machinery, illuminated by the lights of the gently purring machines. Making her way through a city of test tubes and across a sea of computer printouts, she saw the enormous silver cage in the distance; sparkling red eyes gleamed in her direction.
As she got closer, she smiled at a grey mouse, squeaking desperately inside the cage. It sat up on its haunches and squeaked, then rose up on its hind legs, grabbing onto the bars as it chattered in a tirade of mouse talk.
It was then that Joe’s words dawned on her: “When an Athenite transforms they can only communicate with that species.” It brought an important question to mind: why couldn’t she understand that mouse? The mouse continued to squeak desperately and Melinda frowned at her inability to understand a single thing it was trying to tell her. She looked down at her green webbed turtle feet and knew that there was only one explanation. Looking anxiously around at the implements on the counter, she spotted what she needed and trotted over to a tall chrome cabinet, squinting before braving a glimpse at her reflection.
“I look like a gargoyle,” she shrieked when she saw her image. “I’m supposed to look like you,” she whimpered, looking over at the mouse. “I can’t understand anything you’re saying,” she explained as she pulled her human ears away from her head, “because I still have human ears.”
The mouse stopped chattering and slumped into a heap, the reflection of its red eyes still glowing in Melinda’s direction. Then it stood up again, leaned against the bars and reached out desperately towards Melinda, opening and closing its paws as if beckoning her to come closer. It looked so pitiful, Melinda walked closer, and when she was only a few inches away from the cage, their eyes met.
“Dad,” she gasped with the same surprised conviction that she had experienced when she had looked into Joe’s eyes and saw Aesop staring back.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Melinda’s body was shaking as she pushed the bookcase back in place, c
oncealing the entrance to the passageway. It was cold and she was back in human form, therefore quite naked, but that wasn’t the reason that she was shivering. She had made the difficult decision to leave her father behind. He squeaked pitifully when she explained, “I don’t want to risk Stumpworthy finding you gone―not yet anyway. It’ll only be for a little while, just until I can sort things out.” The only problem was that she didn’t know how to do that.
She tiptoed down the hallway as fast as she could, not making a sound as her bare feet padded along the Turkish rug that ran down the middle of the marble floor. She didn’t have a lot of time to save her father, discover what was wrong with Felix and find a cure, sort out her mother, and deal with Professor Stumpworthy. The enormity of the tasks made her eyes bulge toadishly.
Melinda sat in a big pink chair facing the window in her room, not having stirred for hours. She didn’t notice the brilliance of the sunrise; she didn’t hear the early-morning birdsong, the distant sounds of frenzied traffic or the subtle sounds associated with the household awakening.
Her body was stiff as she stretched and stood up, trying to clear the haze that was settling in her mind. She yawned and made her way out into the hallway, feeling groggy but surprisingly rested as she walked down to Felix’s room.
He was lying in the same position as he had been for days. “Felix,” she whispered, not expecting anything in return.
Felix opened his eyes and smiled. “Hi,” he managed in a raspy voice.
Melinda ran to his side, grabbed hold of his hand and smiled. “You’re getting better; that stuff is wearing off.”
“Burungo,” Felix whispered. “It’s a sedative.”
“I know! The professor wanted to keep you quiet.”
Felix interrupted, “I know. Everything is going to be OK now.”
Melinda frowned. “OK?” she barked hotly. “How can you say that? Nothing is OK except you, but I’m not even sure about that.”
“What are you talking about?”
“The professor used that stuff to keep you here and he’s using something to make Mum do what he wants her to do and he turned Joe into a rabbit and,” she paused for emphasis, “he has turned Dad into a mouse!”
Felix’s face contorted into a just-eaten-a-sour-grape expression. “You are not making any sense.”
“I saw Dad in a cage downstairs in the laboratory.”
Felix shook his head slowly. “I have been in every room in this house, and can assure you that there isn’t a laboratory downstairs.” He looked at her as if trying to make sense out of what she was so frustrated about, then smiled knowingly. “You’ve been dreaming again, haven’t you? Because the only thing that has happened around here is that I had a really bad reaction to a bee sting. The professor gave me the Burungo to help me relax so that my body could fight the infection. He saved my life.”
Melinda shook her head. “That’s not true!” Felix didn’t respond, putting Melinda temporarily at a loss for words. Then she remembered her father’s eyes staring at her helplessly out of a mouse’s head. “What about Dad?” she challenged incredulously.
Felix slowly shook his head, smiling condescendingly. “Dad’s fine, he’s working.”
“That’s just it,” she said ominously. “Harmony checked it out and he hasn’t been working in any of the hospitals in the whole city.”
Felix’s eyes widened. “You have talked with Dr. Melpot?”
Melinda shook her head. “No, but Joe told me; he’s her uncle.”
“Joe Whiltshire? He’s dead. Dr. Melpot told me herself.”
Melinda sighed. “I told you all about that—Joe was turned into a rabbit by Professor Stumpworthy, so everyone only thought that he was dead.”
“Mel, that’s crazy. People can’t force people to become animals.”
“But he can—he uses some kind of virus. I’ll bet it’s the same one he used to turn Dad into a mouse.”
Felix struggled to prop himself up on his elbows and looked into his sister’s eyes. “I’ve studied viruses, and I can assure you that they cannot turn people into animals. Not even Athenites,” he added in a whisper. “It’s scientifically impossible.” Melinda seemed on the verge of tears. “Melinda,” he said softly, “you have had another nightmare, that’s all it is. I know how upset you were when Aesop disappeared, so it’s not surprising that you brought him back in your dream. I told you all about Dr. Melpot’s uncle’s death and now your subconscious has put him in one of your dreams and has brought Aesop back to you. As far as you imagining that Dad was a mouse…” He pondered this for a few seconds. “That’s probably because you felt helpless when I was so ill and Dad couldn’t do anything to make it better. In all your dreams you or someone you know has transformed into something. It shouldn’t surprise you that you imagined Dad becoming a helpless creature, making it impossible for him to help me. It all makes perfect sense when you know anything about the subconscious mind,” he said proudly, squeezing her hand. “You’re awake now and everything is OK. Nothing has happened and there’s nothing to worry about.”
Melinda knew that she should feel a sense of relief or maybe even happiness, but she didn’t. She shuffled down the hallway, passed her room, and without consciously planning to do so, stopped in front of the bookcase. The vivid image of that bookcase swinging open to reveal a darkened passageway seemed so real; she couldn’t believe that it was only a dream. She looked both directions down the hallway, and when she was sure that no one was around, she grabbed hold of the right side of the shelves and pulled, but nothing happened. With more force, she tugged again―but it was no use, the shelves didn’t budge.
“Hello, Melinda,” Professor Stumpworthy called from down the hallway. “Wonderful news, isn’t it?”
Melinda jerked around to face him but didn’t reply.
“It was a difficult time for everyone, but Felix has made it through. He’s not only very clever, but physically strong as well.”
Melinda blinked in response.
He smiled as he stood next to her. “Now everything can get back to normal. In fact, I just returned from seeing that your father caught his flight on time—now that Felix is well on the road to recovery, he and your mother decided it best that he return to work. Felix will continue to recuperate here for a few days before getting back to his classes.”
Melinda remained silent even when the professor ruffled her hair and said that he would see her later. She watched in utter bewilderment as he disappeared down the hallway, finding it hard to believe that her nightmare was over.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Melinda was still standing in front of the bookshelves, staring down the hallway in the direction that the professor had disappeared, when her mother’s voice startled her from behind.
“Melinda,” she said in the kind of strong tone that she had always used before Felix’s illness, “I’m happy to see you out and about.”
With a frown neatly creasing her brow, Melinda spun around to face her mother. You’re the one who has been sitting around collecting dust, she thought, but managed only to say “What?” in a small, incredulous voice.
“You have been at Felix’s bedside for days. We’ve all been trying to get you to go outside and at least get some fresh air, but you didn’t want to leave―not even for a few minutes,” Elaine said with a warm smile.
Melinda opened her mouth to protest, to tell her mother about the times that she had gone outside, but simply whimpered “What?” again.
Elaine shook her head. “You didn’t want to leave his side; you have been a very loyal sister.”
“Then it was only a dream,” Melinda mumbled, looking down at her feet.
Elaine put her arm around Melinda’s shoulder. “Don’t tell me you’ve had another dream. I thought you were past all those nightmares you were having about Felix before we came here. You and your imagination,” she laughed warmly. “Tell you what,” she added enthusiastically. “Felix is fine now, he just needs a lot of rest, s
o why don’t you and I go out for the afternoon—a little shopping, maybe lunch, and how about some of that fabulous French ice cream?”
Melinda stared at her mother and realized that she was acting normally for the first time in days. In fact, everything was beginning to feel absolutely normal. She shivered at the memory of the extraordinary events that she had been convinced she had experienced―impossible situations that could really only exist in a dream. She smiled wearily. “Can we have chocolate éclairs too?”
At the end of the day, full of ice cream and pastries and dressed in the newest of French jean fashion, Melinda flopped onto the pink chair by the window in her room. The chair was warm, having been bathed in the late afternoon sunshine that beamed in through the tall windows.
Melinda looked out at the quiet garden, letting her gaze drift across the grass to the hedge of white-flowering shrubs at the border. She had a strange sense of a more intimate knowledge about the garden: the sponginess of the lawn, where the roses were planted, and of what lay beyond the hedge.
“I must have dreamt that too,” she sighed as she recalled a pathway that led through a fern forest and ended at another lawn, where there was a tropical swimming pool and a bell-shaped tree. “That’s where I saw Joe,” she said sadly, remembering her excitement at being reunited with Aesop.
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