Molly Moon & the Monster Music

  Molly decided to take a look at what was going on in his head. Quickly she summoned a thought bubble to appear above him. Oddly, inside it was an image of a boot pressing down on the head of each of the Japanese boys. Molly let the bubble pop.

  “I’m telling you,” the bullying manager went on, “if it goes on like this, you’re all finished. I’ll find another band. Then you will all be has-beens, yesterdayers—washed up, with no one interested in anything you do.”

  With that, the man turned to the door. Molly, Micky, and Gerry dived for the sofa and covered themselves with sheepskins and cushions.

  “Oh, and you are to stay in this room. You’re banned from the party.”

  Fiery with fury, he steamed out. Molly poked her head from under her sheepskin rug to see him go. Hot on his heels was his efficient-looking assistant. They walked away, Miss Sny trying to keep up so that he could read her lips.

  “But, Mr. Proila, their CD is very good . . . really it is, Mr. Proila,” she said. “And Chokichi played the new number very—”

  All of a sudden there was a squeal from Miss Sny. Mr. Proila had punched her arm.

  “Shut it, Sny, or I’ll shut it for you.” The door to the party room opened, producing a wave of noise. Mr. Proila marched through, slamming the door in Miss Sny’s face.

  “Baka!” she muttered. Rubbing her arm, she took a moment to pull herself together and then followed her boss.

  Molly threw the rug off herself.

  “Coast clear,” she whispered, and Micky and Gerry emerged, too.

  “He’s a nasty piece of work,” Micky said quietly. “Let’s go and see the boys.” He knocked on the door and entered.

  Five

  The boy band were sitting together on the sofa in their dressing room with stunned looks on their faces. The biggest one, whose expression was the most forlorn, was fumbling distractedly with a piece of paper, folding it and tapping it.

  Molly, Micky, and Gerry edged into the room.

  “Hi, guys. Great show,” said Micky gently.

  “You were brilliant,” added Molly.

  “The best band I’ve ever seen live,” enthused Gerry, pushing from behind. “Well, actually the first band I’ve ever seen live, but still, you were A-MAZIN’.”

  “Glad someone thought so.” Hiroyuki, the boy with the paper in his hands, smiled. “My keyboards weren’t good. Apparently we were sucking.”

  “You were sucking what?” asked Gerry.

  “He means we sucked,” explained Chokichi. “His English is sometimes a bit wrong.”

  “You didn’t,” said Molly, stepping closer. “You were really good. That man doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”

  “Is he your dad?” asked Gerry.

  “No,” Chokichi replied, half laughing. “He’s our manager.”

  “He’s putting you down,” said Molly, “so that you think you’re so bad that no one else will ever manage you. It’s because you’re so good that he’s doing it. He doesn’t want you to leave him.”

  “Ya think so?” said Toka, the small, muscular one. “Because he real mean just then. I don’t like performing anyway. An’ his meanness make me want to kit.”

  “To kit?”

  “He means quit,” explained Chokichi.

  “Well, he’s wrong,” Molly assured Toka.

  The band boys looked at one another and perked up a little.

  “Thanks for coming, Micky,” said Hiroyuki. “And this your sister, Molly?”

  Micky nodded. “And this is Gerry.”

  “Hi, guys,” said Hiroyuki.

  Chokichi and Toka got up and shook hands with their guests formally. “Hi,” they echoed.

  To break the embarrassed silence, Hiroyuki passed Gerry the paper he was holding. It was cleverly folded into the shape of a small elephant. “Here, for you. It baku. Special Japanese spirit creature. It have trunk and tusk of elephant but feet of tiger. It eat bad dreams.”

  “Wow!” said Gerry. “Thanks. Does it work?”

  “Work for me.”

  “That lady said the word baku after your manager thumped her. What does it mean?”

  Hiroyuki laughed. “No, she said baka, means ‘idiot.’ Poor Miss Sny. Mr. Proila is so mean to her.”

  “You’re really good at folding paper!” Gerry said.

  “It called origami in Japan. That nothing,” said Chokichi. “Look there.” He pointed to Hiroyuki’s dressing table where an array of little animals stood. The children went over to admire them.

  “Wow, they must have taken ages,” Micky said admiringly.

  “Not so long.” Hiroyuki laughed. “They magic animals—called henge. I make before show tonight. Calm my nerves.”

  “I’ll order up some drinks and more snacks,” said Toka, slapping his knees. He went over to the phone.

  “Nice room you’ve got here,” said Molly, walking across to one of the pinball machines. She felt in her pocket for some change. Her fingers closed around the gold coin in its black pouch and she couldn’t resist pulling it out to have a look at it.

  “Oh, you don’t need money for them.” Chokichi laughed, joining Molly. “You just press that button.” His eyes fell upon the gold coin. “Wow! What’s that?”

  Molly showed the coin to him, tossing it lightly in the air so that he saw both its sides but not letting him touch it. The coin landed in her hand, musical note up. A very strong feeling suddenly gripped her. She really, really did not want Chokichi to touch her coin.

  “It’s nothing,” she said nonchalantly.

  “Looks like it’s for people who love music, with that note etched on it,” said Chokichi.

  “I suppose it is.” Molly put the coin in its black pouch and quickly slipped it back into her pocket. “Is this the thing to pull?” she said to Chokichi to change the subject, pointing at the pinball machine. She pulled back the starter mechanism and let it go.

  A small steel ball ricocheted around the obstacle course inside the machine. Gerry came over to see what they were doing.

  Molly stood aside to let him take over the paddles. “So how long are you here?” she asked Hiroyuki.

  “Till midday tomorrow. Then long flight back to Japan. And you?”

  “Not sure yet.” There was a pause. “How come that horrible man is your manager?” Molly asked.

  Hiroyuki sighed. “Mr. Proila discover us when we young. Our parents are poor.” Absentmindedly he picked up a piece of brown paper and began folding it. Molly watched his fingers move dextrously. “They signed contract with him. We sing and our parents and our family have better life because of contract. Mr. Proila manage us—make sure we rehearse, book our tours, get our CDs in shops. He deaf, you know. He mean. But he also very rich and powerful. Very successful.” He paused as he finished the little origami sculpture. “This is shishi lion. See open mouth? That to scare off evil spirits.” At an incredible speed he made another. “This his twin. This shishi have closed mouth to keep good spirits safe.” He put the lions together. “So, what you doing here?”

  Molly wondered whether to tell Hiroyuki about what they’d been doing in Ecuador. “We’re on a break, a mini-holiday.” Molly sipped some more of her tea.

  “So now you go home?”

  “Yes, but I really don’t want to!” Molly confided.

  “Come to Japan with us! Plenty of room on plane.”

  Molly nodded. “Wow. Wish I could. But I can’t.”

  The rest of the evening was spent in the adjoining game room. There was a mini shooting gallery, a Ping-Pong table, and a roulette wheel. The hours rolled by. Fueled with sugary fizzy drinks and snacks, they played past midnight.

  “I can hardly keep my eyes open, and no wonder—it’s one o’clock,” said Molly, looking at her watch.

  Micky yawned. “I suppose we should go.”

  “That was the best fun,” said Gerry, giving Toka a friendly slap on the shoulder. “I could play all night.”

  “Have a good trip home,” Chokichi
said as everyone gathered their things.

  “And remember,” said Hiroyuki at the door, “you’re welcome to join us and come to Japan. We have private plane, so it really easy. All you need do”—he handed Molly a piece of paper with a name and number on it—“is call this number. Speak to Miss Yjuko. She air hostess of plane. She tell you where plane leaves and what time.”

  Molly smiled. “I think we’ll more likely see you when you come on tour to London. But thanks, Hiroyuki. A nice idea.”

  Back at the hotel, Micky and Gerry went to bed.

  “Do you think baku really eats the bad dreams?” Molly heard Gerry asking as the door shut.

  Molly stayed up for a bit. She walked out onto the balcony and sat down. She put the black pouch on the table and absentmindedly pulled out her gold coin. She wound it between her fingers. Then she looked at the card Hiroyuki had given her. It would be really fun to go to Tokyo in a private jet with him and his brothers. Instead she had to go back to England, to school.

  She looked out across the city square. The old buildings of Quito stood before her, their facades lit up. They looked like an audience waiting for something.

  In her pocket was the harmonica that Gerry had given her. Molly pulled it out and put it to her lips. She was surprised to find that the sound she made wasn’t bad at all. Amazingly she found that she was playing a tune that she didn’t even realize she knew.

  Below, a tramp in the square pulled his blanket around himself and listened to Molly’s music. He took his woolly hat off to hear better. When the music finished, he clapped. “Bravo! Bravo!” he shouted enthusiastically.

  Molly stood up and nodded to him and waved. The music she’d played had been remarkable, she thought, for a beginner. Then she noticed an even older man in a tweed suit who had appeared suddenly beside the tramp on the bench. She wondered who he was and where he’d come from. His clothes were strange for the city he was in, and old-fashioned, too. Not wanting an audience, Molly sat back down out of sight.

  She rolled her golden coin between her thumb and forefinger. The musical note engraved on it stared back at her. Molly had the peculiar sensation that the coin was actually trying to speak to her, telling her what to do. She thought again about Japan, all the time looking at the golden coin.

  “That’s decided then,” she said. “I am going to Japan.”

  Six

  Molly woke early and reached immediately for the black pouch she’d tucked beneath her pillow before falling asleep.

  Her head felt clearer than the night before. Disobeying her parents and going to Japan against their wishes didn’t seem like a big deal now. She got out of bed and began packing.

  Once her small case was packed and by the door, she collected up her brother’s and Gerry’s scattered things and packed for them, too. If they wouldn’t come with her, they’d be going back to England. Either way, they’d be checking out of the hotel. She knew Japan wouldn’t be as much fun without them. She hoped she’d be able to persuade them to come. She found everyone’s passports.

  As soon as she was dressed she stuffed the black pouch with her special coin into her pocket and looked at the piece of paper Hiroyuki had given her. She picked up the phone and dialed.

  “Oh, hello. Is this Miss Yjuko?” she asked when the phone was answered. “Great. Well, my name’s Molly—Molly Moon. Hiroyuki gave me your number. He said to call if I wanted to come on the flight to Tokyo today.”

  “Thanks. There will probably be three of us, and a dog,” Molly explained, after Miss Yjuko had given her instructions.

  Feeling excited and satisfied, Molly hung up the phone and bent down to do up her shoes. A shadow crossed her feet. She looked up. Micky was glowering at her. His hair was ruffled from sleep and his eyes were puffy.

  “What are you doing booking us all on a flight to Tokyo?” he growled. “We’re going back home tonight, Molly.”

  “I’m not,” Molly answered, crossing her arms defiantly. “You don’t have to come, but I don’t have to go with you either.”

  “You can’t just go off when Lucy and Primo want you home,” said Micky. “They’re our parents. Remember what it was like in the orphanage? You said you used to wish for parents all the time. Now you’ve got them, you’re acting as if you don’t want them.”

  Molly frowned. Why couldn’t Micky be reasonable about this?

  “Micky, don’t make a mountain out of a molehill.”

  “But Rocky really wants to see you.”

  Rocky’s face flashed across Molly’s mind. “Well, he’s always wanted to go to Japan. He can come, too.”

  She took out her gold coin. Micky was being really irritating about this. She glared at him.

  “What’s the matter with you? I never knew you were so . . . so selfish and pigheaded,” Micky spat. Exasperated, he stomped into the bathroom and shut the door.

  “What’s up with him?” Gerry asked in bewilderment, coming into the room with Titch in his hands.

  Molly put away her coin and pulled out her harmonica.

  “He’s a bit”—she blew a sharply crescendoing series of notes—“uptight.”

  “Wow, you’re pretty good at that thing,” Gerry said, forgetting for a moment about Micky. “It’s you who’s going to have to give me lessons! Anyway, what was Micky upset about?”

  “It’s like this. Either we go back to England or we don’t. Primo and Lucy aren’t even going to be at Briersville because they’re going on holiday. We will have to do lessons and chores. Gerry—Primo and Lucy are just like an orphanage master and mistress. The only difference is that the house is posh.”

  “Really?” Gerry looked horrified.

  “Or,” Molly continued, “we get on the plane today and go to Tokyo and have an amazing time. Maybe we can even do something about those horrible people who are killing whales. I mean, you’d like to do that, wouldn’t you?”

  Micky came out of the bathroom, dressed. Petula, who had just woken up, followed him into the sitting room. Molly stood up. She fanned the passports out like a hand of winning cards.

  “So, are you coming, Micky?” she asked.

  Micky shook his head.

  “Well, Gerry’s coming with me. And Petula.”

  “And Titch,” Gerry added.

  Petula looked up quizzically, wondering why Micky and Molly were angry with each other. They’d never had an argument before. Micky’s anger smelled sad, with salt in it. Molly’s was less fierce but smelled worse, acrid and sour. There was that sharp lemony smell again. Petula didn’t like it one bit.

  “You should come, Micky. It’s gonna be fun!” Gerry insisted, friendly as a puppy.

  “I know,” said Micky sadly. “But, Gerry, we’ve got a home, and we were actually on our way back to it. That’s where I want to be, with our family.”

  Molly went to the door, unhooked her black jacket and gave a short whistle. Petula felt torn. She loved Molly but didn’t want to leave Micky. But more than this torn feeling, she was worried. Molly was normally a very kind person, not prone to nastiness at all. Yet here she was being horrible to her brother and she didn’t seem to care that he was upset. To Petula, Molly’s anger wasn’t the humdrum temporary irritation that can fly between brothers and sisters. It was something more serious and dark. What’s more, this strange behavior had started so suddenly and so recently. Petula was really concerned. Her instinct told her that she must go with Molly to watch over her.

  Petula rubbed her head against Micky’s legs to say good-bye and to apologize. Then she followed Molly and Gerry down the corridor.

  When the elevator arrived, Molly let Gerry and Petula get in first.

  “Go and get into a cab. I’ll meet you outside in a minute. I’ve forgotten something.”

  When she went back into the room, Micky was standing by the bed. His expression brightened when he saw her. “Changed your mind?”

  “I’m sorry, I have to do this,” Molly said. She raised her eyes to Micky’s. Her pupils wer
e already charged with high-voltage hypnotic glare. The instant his eyes met hers, Micky was caught. He fell under Molly’s spell immediately. The fusion feeling rose up from her feet and flooded through her body. Micky was well and truly hypnotized. He stood in front of her, his mouth open and his eyes glazed.

  “Micky,” Molly began, “you are now under my power. When you wake up from this trance, you won’t remember the Japanese boy band at all. You won’t remember spending time with them, or seeing their concert. You won’t remember them when you think of Japan. In fact, you won’t think of Japan much at all. You will forget Mr. Proila and Miss Sny and you will forget we argued. You will tell Primo and Lucy that Gerry and I are traveling around South America. You will be happy about all of this, and in a minute when I click my fingers and you wake up, you won’t remember I hypnotized you.” Molly paused. She had to make sure that her hypnotism couldn’t be tampered with. Lucy and Primo were accomplished hypnotists themselves. So she finished, “And I lock these instructions in with the password ‘golden coin.’”

  With that, Molly clicked her fingers and felt immediately for her own gold coin. Micky stood still, blinking rapidly for a few seconds. Then, “Have a great trip, Molly!” he gushed. “Send me a postcard.”

  Molly ruffled his hair. “Will do. Bye, Micky.”

  With that, she left him again, now with a spring in her step.

  Seven

  The taxi drove Molly, Gerry, Petula, and Titch straight onto the private terminal tarmac at Quito Airport and stopped fifty meters from where the jets were parked. The small luxurious planes stood, sleekly and silently, like beautiful metal sky creatures resting in the morning sun.

  Molly saw the Japanese boys beside one plane, talking to the pilot. She smiled. She felt a bit bad about having hypnotized Micky but she didn’t regret it. If he told Primo and Lucy where she and Gerry really were, they would send Forest out to Japan to get them. No way was she going back until she felt like it.

  She and Gerry got out of the car. Gerry tucked Titch into his hat and put his hat on. With Petula following them, they made their way across the yellow-striped tarmac.