Molly Moon & the Morphing Mystery

“So I’m here,” Bas continued. “Eating what grows here and kinda getting away from it all. Hardly talk to anyone. My radio, you know, the type to communicate with people, is broken. Every so often I take a trip on my motorbike to the town, thirty miles away. I stock up with supplies of stuff that I can’t grow, like chocolate. And coffee, and matches and pasta. Stuff like that. I’m pretty self-sufficient. I have a little windmill that makes electricity, and some solar panels, too, that harvest energy from the sun. I collect rainwater…there’s a lot of water up here. And I grow things. Got a big vegetable patch. Just have to watch the naughty critters who come to nibble at it. Grow everything from garlic to soy—I’m a vegetarian, see, so need some protein.” He pointed to Petula. “Your dog seems to like the soy, too. Anyway, corn, salad, potatoes, tomatoes, pumpkins. Everything grows here. So fertile. And I keep chickens for their eggs. Got a natural loo. Full of sawdust and sprinkle bacteria on it and it all just rots away in an amazing way. It doesn’t even smell. And I got Canis here. Oh, where is he? Anyway, got my dog. And all the company of the forest, with its birds and monkeys, and I’ve got a good library, so lots to read, and occasionally I watch a movie on my computer. Got about fifty movies.”

Molly realized that Bas had been hit by a torrent of verbal diarrhea. He obviously hadn’t spoken to anyone for months. Then her mind changed gear.

“Erm, Bas,” Molly said. “My friends—I know you said not to worry, but…Do you think they’re all right?”

Bas looked Molly in the eye. “How many of you were there?”

“Four. Malcolm, the pilot, and my brother, Micky, and a girl called Lily. We were trying to find the Logan Stones. We’ve got to sort out a big problem.” Molly tried to swing her legs out of bed. Her head swam.

“You can’t move today,” Bas said. “But you can tell me your story. And maybe by tomorrow, you will feel better enough to start searching for your friends. They may have been lucky,” he added kindly. “There is lots to eat in the forest. I heard the plane come down. We can search for them. The dogs can help. But for now, see whether you can eat some more. And tell me about your problem. Maybe I can help.”

And so Molly ate a little more and told Bas everything.

The more she talked, the more anxious she grew about her friends and Micky, and the more worried she became about Miss Hunroe’s plan. Molly was the only person left in the world who might be able to stop Miss Hunroe. The weight of her responsibility sank in as Molly told Bas her story. The lush and peaceful forest rippled with birdsong as though refusing to believe that anything bad was happening. But Bas’s face dropped as he listened.

“You probably think I’m delirious or something,”

Molly concluded. “I mean, hypnotism, morphing, and all that must sound pretty far-fetched. Like I’ve gone funny in the head since being knocked out.”

“Well, I’m not sure,” said Bas. “I mean, you could hypnotize me to prove it, or even morph into me! But you might relapse and knock yourself out again with the effort.” Molly was too tired to read Bas’s mind to see whether he believed her. He went on talking. “No, the best thing, seems to me, is that tomorrow we ought to go to my viewing crane. I’ve got this crane that’s high up in the canopy that I normally use for inspecting plants and stuff. The views from it are expansive, to say the least. You never know what we might see from up there. And as far as the Logan Stones go, I know where they are.”

“You do?” Molly gulped as she spoke. She hadn’t expected this. Bas’s revelation had tripped off his tongue so lightly.

“Sure. They are quite a way from here. But I can show you.”

Twenty-five

Molly got stronger. She ate and ate, little bits here and there, and by the end of the day she had polished off a whole bowl of Bas’s sweet-potato soup in one sitting. By the evening Molly was walking about his encampment, admiring his vegetable garden. It was a fantastic mountain allotment fenced in with rabbit-proof wire mesh. Bas had a book called The Vegetable A to Z, and it seemed that he grew everything in it. From artichokes to zucchinis. Molly tried to feel optimistic, but she couldn’t help being dreadfully anxious. She sat on a rock and stared at a bean plant. And, as though her body could no longer take being strong, as though it could no longer contain the relief of being alive mixed with the worry for the others, she cried.