Molly Moon & the Morphing Mystery

The forest calm had now returned. A parrot squawked from a nearby tree and a couple of monkeys went back to foraging for sweet tree orchids. There was a rustling noise in the bushes to the left. A few guinea pigs—an orange, a black-and-white one, and a brown—came out from the cover and began to graze on the lush grass.

“Look, guinea pigs!”

“Yes, they have them up here,” said Micky. “I think the forest people actually eat them.”

“Really? I used to have a smooth-haired guinea pig as a pet,” Lily reminisced. Then she looked over at Miss Teriyaki, who sat on her haunches in front of them.

“You don’t suppose…”

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Micky asked.

“I think I might be.”

“You do it,” Micky said. And so Lily began.

She looked hard into Miss Teriyaki’s mean face. “From now on, Miss Teriyaki, you will think you are a mountain guinea pig, and you will be happy being a mountain guinea pig….” The Japanese woman nodded. Then she got down on her hands and knees and squeaked a high-pitched squeak. “And…” Lily continued, taking her task very seriously, “you won’t be lonely, because there are lots of other guinea pigs in the forest that you will make friends with. And I lock this instruction in with…with the word ‘Lily.’”

Miss Teriyaki snuffled, then she wrinkled her nose. Seeing the other guinea pigs, she scuttled toward them on her hands and knees. They gave a yeep and moved away.

“Oh, they’ll get used to her,” Lily said.

“Amazing,” Canis said to Petula. “Now do you think you can find your friend Molly?”

Petula lifted her head to sense where Molly was. Sucking on the smooth blue stone that felt so watery and cool in her mouth, she began to concentrate. Above her there was a roll of thunder.

Thirty-one

Rain slapped down on the outside of the termite mound as though hundreds of tiny hands were patting it over and over and over. Molly moved closer to the squelchy queen termite. Behind her, Miss Hunroe and Miss Oakkton toyed with the weather stones. Molly tried to work out what to do, but it was difficult to concentrate, as to the left of her a large red termite with enormous mandibles was clicking its pincers together and tutting.

“You no invitey to feeeeeeed queen,” it niggled nastily. Molly tried to ignore the criticism, but again the termite complained, “You no feeder. You no foooood.”

“I bringeeee queen fooodee later,” Molly said, hoping this would shut the insect up.

“Later laaaater?” it screeched, alerting another termite.

“Out out. No later foodee YOU NO FEEDER!” it insisted. The queen said nothing, though bubbly noises squelched out from under her. Molly stood up on her back legs, hoping it would intimidate the nosy termites. Now more turned upon her.

“You should knowee rulesees,” the first nagged.

“OUT OUTEE NOWEEE!” With a push Molly was shoved backward so that she toppled close to Miss Hunroe and the stones. Miss Hunroe and Miss Oakkton looked down at the fallen termite near them, and their antennas twitched. They were at once suspicious.

Miss Oakkton stepped toward the stray termite and trapped one of Molly’s legs in her pincers. Miss Hunroe peered down at her.

“Who are you?” she asked, her big eyes bulging. Molly didn’t answer. It was terrifying to have her leg trapped in Miss Oakkton’s pincers. Desperately, she tried to think. She could morph into one of them, but then again, both Miss Hunroe and Miss Oakkton were suspicious now, and she might get stuck inside one of them. Or perhaps they’d preempt her move and prevent her from entering their bodies at all. That would be even worse. She’d be floating about in the air with no body to go into. She struggled to get out of Miss Oakkton’s grip.

“Get off me!” Molly growled in pain.

“So it is you. What shall we do with you now, little Moon termite?” Miss Oakkton muttered darkly. “What a strange place to die—in a termite cathedral!”

“You’re so much larger than her, Miss Oakkton,” declared Miss Hunroe. “Crush her!”

“Oh! Ya!” laughed Miss Oakkton. “And then zeese uzer termites would eat you. Perhaps they’d even feed you to zair queen!”

The queen! Molly turned. So many termites were now attending to the queen that Molly could barely see her. Miss Oakkton had given her a brilliant idea. Molly desperately looked for a pattern in the cracked mud floor and thought hard. She sank her mind deep into the idea of slimy sluggishness. And miraculously, seconds later, she had left her termite shell and morphed into the pulsating termite queen.

At once Molly saw how totally in control the queen was, and how all the termites served her completely. Molly looked at Miss Oakkton, who was still under the impression that the insect she was holding was Molly. Miss Oakkton was about to kill that termite, to squeeze the life out of it, and Molly felt entirely responsible for this. And so Molly the queen whispered to her feeders.