Strange Happenings Read Free Page B

alike."
    "We do?"
    "A certain blandness. No show of emotion. As if you can't bother. So, sorry, I don't remember you. But I'm ever so grateful. If I can return the favor ..."
    "Oh, but you can," Tom said eagerly.
    "How's that?"
    "Transform me back."
    "To what you were?"
    "Right."
    "How does the other one—the one I transformed you with—feel?"
    "I don't think he wants to switch."
    "I'm afraid that's what usually happens. It makes retransformation nearly impossible."
    "But you
can
do it, can't you?"
    "Oh sure, but the point is, you have to get the two heads side by side. If one doesn't want to, and that one is a human, it isn't easy."
    "I can arrange it!" Tom cried.
    "How?"
    "Follow me."
    Tom led the way back to his own house. They reached it by two in the morning. Finding the window through which Tom had got out still open, they crawled inside.
    Maggie looked about. "Nice place you got here," she muttered.
    "
Shh
," Tom whispered. He led the way to his room, and by standing up on his hind legs—Maggie helped—they were able to push the door open.
    Charley, head upon a pillow, lay fast asleep on the bed.
    "Now listen carefully," Tom said to Maggie, "I'll get on the pillow right next to him and put my head near his. Give me a minute. Then, you jump on and do what you normally do. Just make the transformation."
    Maggie giggled. "Someone's going to be surprised."
    "That's Charley's problem. He tricked me into this."
    "That's what you all say," said Maggie.
    Tom leaped onto the bed and padded to his own pillow. Once there he lay down, tucked his paws under his chest, and nestled his head right next to Charley's.
    Within moments Maggie followed. "Ready?" she whispered.
    "Ready," Tom replied.
    "Here goes," Maggie warned.
    Tom closed his eyes and waited for the tap on his forehead. When nothing happened he opened his eyes and found himself staring right into the face of a gray cat.
    Puzzled, Tom called, "Maggie?"
    "The name's Charley," the cat said.
    "
Charley
?" Tom cried, and looked down at himself. He was just the way he had been moments before—a cat. In a panic he turned. There, asleep, was a person who looked exactly like he had looked. As for the second cat, it looked just like Maggie.
    "Hey," Charley—now Maggie—growled, "what's going on? How come I'm a cat again?"
    "I'm afraid ... Maggie did it," said Tom.
    "Maggie? The wizard-cat?"
    "I think so. She did the transformation on herself and you. She's become...
us.
"
    Â 
    One week later, Tom—who had spent all his time prowling the streets—suddenly stopped. He was in a park not far from a bench. Sitting on the bench was a girl. She was not doing anything in particular, justsitting. Now and again she swung a leg back and forth. Then she yawned, looked at her watch, and yawned again.
    Tom watched her for about fifteen minutes. In all that time the girl continued to just sit there, a slight frown on her face. She looked bored.
    Tom went forward and sat down in front of the girl.
    "What's happening?" he said.
    The girl looked down at him. After a moment she said, "Nothing."
    "Doing anything?" asked Tom.
    "Nothing
to
do," the girl replied.
    "Bored?"
    "Always."
    Tom got up, stretched, and then rubbed himself against the girl's leg. "You sound like my kind of friend," he said.

Babette the Beautiful
    I N THE LAND OF S OLANDIA , it was a queen, not a king, who ruled. Some years ago it was Queen Isabelle—
not
King Alfredo—who was the reigning monarch. Hardly a surprise then that Isabelle wished to give birth to a girl so that her daughter might become the next queen. That said, the queen felt strongly that any daughter of hers
must
be very beautiful because she believed only beautiful girls could be happy.
    The truth is, Queen Isabelle thought about having a beautiful daughter
all
the time. If you asked—and even if you did not ask—the queen could—and would—tell you what this hoped-for daughter would look like. What's