Molly Moon & the Morphing Mystery

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 though it had been whizzed up on an electric voice blender. “How many spots have I got?”

“Six,” Molly replied, studying the red glossy shell of his wings.

“You sound really funny!” Micky laughed, his buzzing giggle like a sound effect off a synthesizer.

“You sound normal,” Molly replied.

“Really?”

“Of course you don’t, you numbling. You’re the size of a lentil!”

“Did you say hello to your ladybug? You know, sort of introduce yourself before you took over?” Micky squeaked.

“Yes. Well, it seemed like the kind thing to do,” Molly replied.

Just then, there was an enormous, windlike noise in the room as Black coughed. The ground shook as he walked to his desk. He opened a drawer.