Byng, Georgia - Molly Moon & the Morphing Mystery

Molly and Micky paused to absorb the atmosphere and to look at the lonely, ghostly remains of the dinosaur, but already Miss Hunroe was steaming up the stairs, her cream patent-leather boots clipping on the marble steps. Molly and Micky followed. They had both suddenly become slightly irritated by Miss Hunroe’s speed. Both had now been reminded that with a teacher, even a glamorous teacher, students do what they are told.

“I’m not used to being led about like a kindergarten kid,” Molly grumbled to Micky. “You know, the last time I went to school was over a year ago.”

“Well, I’ve been bossed about much more recently than that,” said Micky. “It stinks. Hope she doesn’t turn into a dictator.”

“A what?”

“A dictator.” They took the left branch of steps that went upstairs. “A dictator is a leader of a country who just does what he wants, who tells everyone how things are going to be without asking them, without anyone voting for anything.”

“Yeah, well, let’s hope she doesn’t turn into a dictator,” Molly agreed. “You know, I don’t think Miss Hunroe is quite as unteachery as we thought she might be. I think she’s got a great big thumb and wants to keep us under it.”

They walked up to the museum’s upper gallery level. Here they passed display cases full of stuffed apes. Some were glaring with snarling mouths, others stared with doleful eyes.

“Incredible to think we’re descended from them,” Molly said. “I suppose they’re just like us, though—some are mean and selfish and some are kind and thoughtful.”

They walked past glass boxes full of examples of insects. A model of a termite the size of Petula raised its ugly pincers at them.

“Urrgh, look at that ant!” Molly said.

“It’s a termite,” Micky corrected her. “I like termites, they’re cool. They make huge mud-castle constructions that they live in.”

At the end of the balcony corridor were half a dozen steps veering to the center of the building. Here the roof was very low. Its underside was paneled and painted with examples of plant species.

“ Atropa belladonna. Deadly nightshade,” Miss Hunroe declared, sweeping her hand toward the paintings. Beside the letters was a picture of an herb with oval leaves and dull purple flowers and black berries.

“That’s a nasty one, isn’t it?” said Molly.

“Yup,” Micky answered. “If a person eats that, they get poisoned and they can’t walk properly. And that one, too.” He pointed to a picture of a plant with white flowers. “ Conium maculatum. Hemlock. That paralyzes you if you eat it. Amazing! It looks so pretty, doesn’t it?”

“Don’t judge your flower by its prettiness,” Molly agreed.

“Hurry up,” tutted Miss Hunroe, only visible for a second as she poked her head back through the door in an oak partition in front of them. It was the entrance to a section of the building called the botanical library.

“I suppose this is one of the surprises,” said Micky. He pointed to a sign that read BY INVITATION ONLY. PLEASE OBTAIN PASS.

He and Molly looked at each other and began to trot as they tried to catch up with Miss Hunroe. They followed her into a long room with desks laden with books and papers along each side of it. Miss Hunroe hurried past the desks toward two large, wooden-framed glass doors. These swung back behind her as she blasted her way through them, one catching Molly’s shoulder.

“Ow! Slow down, lady,” Molly muttered, rubbing her arm.

Now they were in an arched, high-windowed space that housed columns and columns of fitted oak filing cabinets. These rose from the ground to the ceiling everywhere. A block of tall wooden cabinets punctuated even the center of the room.

“The archives,” stated Miss Hunroe, without a backward glance.

Molly saw that in front of each window was an alcove with a desk and a chair. And here museum workers busied themselves on computers, all of them too buried in work to bat an eye at the visitors.

“First a diplomat’s parking permit, then access to all this. Miss Hunroe seems to know people,” said Micky. “What’s she doing now?”

Miss Hunroe stood at the end of the room in front of a set of drawers.

“Crumbs. Looks like lessons start here,” said Molly.

As she and Micky arrived by Miss Hunroe’s side, their new tutor smiled so that her hazel eyes shone. Then, with a naughty expression on her face, she pressed the drawer beside her so that, instead of popping out, it went in . And to Molly and Micky’s immense surprise, the whole of the double-fronted cabinet before them turned on a pivot, becoming yet another door—this time a secret one.

“Oh, my giddy aunt,” said Molly.

“Your what?” asked Micky.

“It’s an expression,” whispered Molly, following Miss Hunroe through.

On the other side of the door, which now snapped shut, the space was similarly filled with towering filing cabinets. Like a businesswoman late for a board meeting, Miss Hunroe quickened her pace and marched through it.

“Miss Hunroe, I think you should know,” Micky said. “Your friend had an accident.”

“Sounds like her!” the tutor replied.

“Where are you taking us, Miss Hunroe?” Molly asked, beginning to feel uneasy. She’d had enough experience with strange situations to know that this one didn’t feel entirely right. “It’s all a bit mysterious, this. I’d prefer it if you told us what was going on.”

Micky flicked his hair from his eyes. “Molly doesn’t like surprises, you see,” he explained. “In the past she’s had a few nasty ones, so…”

“Oh, don’t worry, you two,” said Miss Hunroe, flinging her words over her shoulder. “This is all completely aboveboard. Just a few more steps, and everything will be nearly revealed.” She came to another door and turned its porcelain handle, leading Micky and Molly into yet another room. They both stepped warily inside.

“Now we’re in one of the museum’s towers!” Miss Hunroe announced excitedly, closing the door, locking it, and quickly pocketing the key. “Do you see—the roof is pointed! Lovely and light, isn’t it, with its big windows? It’s a sort of very smart library.” She pointed up some stairs to a balcony above, where bookshelves hugged the walls. “Exquisite, isn’t it?”

The library was indeed splendid and luxurious. Its furniture, shelves, and balconies were made of polished walnut decorated in Art Deco style, with ebony inlaid motifs of leaves and flowers and hummingbirds. On the level where the twins stood was a fireplace with a large framed picture of a feather-shaped tree above it, and in front of this, a big, low coffee table laden with books. On the other three sides of this table were three sofas. Molly noticed that the window’s panes had stained-glass patterns and back-to-front writing etched there, too. Writing that was designed to be read from outside, she supposed. Yet how anyone might read it when the tower was so high, she didn’t know.

“Make yourselves comfortable,” Miss Hunroe invited. Then she reached into her suit-jacket pocket and took out the gold coin. She flipped it, guessing, “Heads!” and then looked at the result in her palm. “Heads you win. Would you like hot chocolate?”

“Yes, that would be great.” Micky shrugged.

“Unless.” Molly faltered. “Unless you have concentrated orange squash?”

“Concentrated orange squash! Certainly not! Wait here on this ottoman, and I’ll be back in a trice.” She disappeared through a door in the corner of the room, and Molly heard her clapping her hands.

Micky picked up a glass paperweight with a black narcissus flower inside it. Then he wandered over to the bookshelf by the fireplace, where he began to look at book titles.