"But … We shouldn't be doing this."
* * * * *
"ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND?"
* * * * *
'What happened to Ellen's clock? I know it should be ticking.'

I would like to thank my dear friends,
Angel O’Hare, Karen Page, Joni W., Annette McGregor and Holly Logan
for their kindness, help, support, and input.

Education in the Hills
Chapter 19

By Penny Reed Cardon

As the door of Mr. Peterson’s office slammed, I crossed the hall. With only the cold hard wall for support and comfort, the inevitable started. I slowly sank to the floor, an uncontrollable sobbing mass, in absolute misery.

‘How could he ask me that? Maybe he doesn’t know everything about me. Maybe he doesn't know about my problem. Maybe he doesn’t realize what I’ve been through. Maybe he doesn't care. Maybe ... Maybe ... Maybe — too many maybes. That’s it, I need MayBee.’

Getting out my PDA I sent a message to the two people I trusted most.

'I hope tears on these screens won't hurt anything.'

Need help!
Mr. Peterson’s office.
NOW

Matilda

‘This is one decision I’m NOT making on my own.’

As I put away my PDA, the office door opened; it was Mr. Peterson.

“Matilda,” he said gently as he stooped down to my level. “I know that was a bit of a shock, but I couldn’t let him talk you into helping without knowing all the facts. You do understand, don’t you?”

I slowly nodded, as I wiped some tears on my sleeve.

He handed me a handkerchief before asking, “Do you think you could come back inside so we can finish our discussion?”

I looked at Mr. Peterson through teary eyes, shocked that he would even considering asking me to go back in there. After several moments, I shook my head. “N, No! - Not ... alone,” I managed to say.

At that moment, the elevator door opened and Mary Beth emerged, propelled rapidly by Jenny, Aaron, Misa, and Morgan. Even before they had come to a complete stop, Mary Beth was out of the wheelchair and on her knees next to me, holding my right hand and wiping my eyes. A moment later, Jenny was holding my left hand. The look on her face could be described as ... 'terrified'. I’m sure she got a lot more than she bargained for in those few seconds. At the time, I really didn’t care if she could read just my emotions, or everything in my mind.

Mary Beth appeared to have forgotten what had gone on between us the last few days, as she suddenly jumped back into her protective mode. Obviously forgetting herself, and who she was talking to, she turned and demanded, "WHAT DID YOU DO TO HER?"

Mr. Peterson was shocked and momentarily dumbfounded that a student would yell at him, let alone demand an account of his actions. Our four friends appeared to be equally stunned by Mary Beth's outburst. I, on the other hand ... I felt a warmth within me that helped me stop crying. The warmth that I knew stemmed from her love for me, even if she wasn't ready to admit it.

Before anyone else had a chance to say anything, I felt another pair of hands touch me. They caught me under my arms, lifted me off the floor, and held me tight. Only then did I notice a fragrance, something I hadn't smelt since I was five or six. I was overcome with emotions and feelings I'd almost forgotten. I looked up into the worried face of my mother and suddenly I was five years old again. Lovingly I called out, "Mommy," as I turned I threw my arms around her and started crying once again. However, these tears weren't because I was scared or afraid. These were tears of joy.

It seemed like hours that we held each other, but I'm sure it wasn't. Eventually I became aware of where I was and who I was with. I stopped crying and whispered in Mom's ear, "What are you doing here?"

"You called to me. I felt your soul cry out, begging to be rescued," came her gentle reply.

"But … We shouldn't be doing this,” I whispered into mom’s ear.

"Doing what? As a school counselor am I not supposed to offer comfort to students in distress?" she lovingly replied.

"Yes, but … well … all right, I shouldn't be hugging you like this."

"You're right about one thing, Matilda. This is more physical contact than I have with most of the other students," she admitted, as she lovingly set me down.

"Matilda, did I hear you call her ... 'Mommy'?" Misa asked me quietly.

"Mrs. Covington, what brings you into this wing?" Mr. Peterson asked, once the emotional scene was drawing to a close.

"As I said, a student was in distress. Apparently, Matilda sent a message to Ellen, requesting that she come here urgently. Ellen has someone in her office and couldn't leave. It seems I was the only member of the staff that was available to fill in for her on a moments notice."

"I see," he acknowledged Edith's response. "So it's safe to assume that Ellen will be joining us as soon as she's available?"

"That is her intention," Edith replied.

"And the rest of you," Mr. Peterson addressed Mary Beth and our other classmates. "I suppose you just happened to be here by chance."

"No sir," Mary Beth answered, somewhat defiantly, as she moved to stand protectively between Mr. Peterson and me. "I got a note from Matilda, too. It said she needed my help, NOW. Being that I can't run, they volunteered to assist with my transportation."

"Naturally," Mr. Peterson replied sarcastically. "Now then, if everyone is satisfied that Matilda hasn't been harmed; I'll assume you will all return to your various activities."

"I am not sure about anything, Mr. Peterson," Jenny proclaimed. "Matilda was extremely upset. She was so emotionally distressed that she felt the need to cry out for immediate assistance. It is true that she has stopped crying and has not suffered any physical injury. However, even though I am no longer touching her, I can tell that she is still very upset."

My beloved protector wasn't about to back down very easily, either. She joined in the questioning of Mr. Peterson's request for them to leave, "Exactly! When we got here Matilda was on the floor crying, with you hovering over her. She wouldn't have sent a note like that for no reason. I'm still waiting for an answer to my question; what did you do to her?"

Mr. Peterson appeared to be in shock. Before he or anyone else had a chance to say anything, Ellen arrived on the scene. "What on earth is going on here?" she asked, seeing the crowd that had gathered.

"I'm here because Matilda said she needed my help," Mary Beth announced, without taking her eyes off Mr. Peterson.

"We came to help Mary Beth," Aaron added, indicating himself and the other three.

"I know why the rest of you are here," Ellen admitted. "Edith, thank you for your fast response, but I'll take it from here."

"But, I thought ... No, of course not, you're right. I'm happy to help out any way I can. Ellen, could we chat later?" Mom asked with a smile. Before she turned to leave, she ruffled my hair just a bit and bid me so long, saying, "See you around, Munchkin."

"As for you four," Ellen continued, addressing Mary Beth's escort squad, "I think we'll be able to provide Mary Beth with her transportation needs. The four of you may return to whatever you were doing."

Our friends looked at each other, wondering what they'd done to be dismissed so abruptly. Mary Beth thanked them for helping her and promised she’d fill them later.

Once the crowd was down to four, Ellen, Mr. Peterson, Mary Beth and me, Ellen turned a little cold, asking, "The question I need an answer to is, why would our young friend feel the need to send out such an urgent cry for help? Matilda, if you're up to it, I'd like to discuss this in MY office."

"Ellen," Mr. Peterson interrupted, "if you don't mind, I'd like to continue the discussion, Matilda and I were having before, this impromptu gathering took place."

Ellen looked into Mr. Peterson's office and shook her head. "I see you and Lloyd have been playing your Phantom of the Opera game again. Did you even bother with proper introductions?"

Still hiding behind Mary Beth, I shook my head. Although it went unnoticed by Ellen, I'm sure Mr. Peterson didn't miss it.

It was Mr. Peterson's turn to look like he'd been caught raiding the cookie jar.

"I see," Ellen scoffed. "Any further discussion you wish to have with Matilda today will take place in MY office. That is where Matilda, Mary Beth, and I will be. You two are welcome to join us in thirty minutes. Come, ladies, we need to have a little chat."

Ellen then abruptly turned and started down the hall. Mr. Peterson was speechless. Mary Beth and I were momentarily dazed by Ellen's forcefulnes. However we recovered quickly, and were soon close on her heals, Mary Beth seated with me pushing, rapidly.

Once we were in her office, Ellen directed us to the large couch, where I was sandwiched between the two of them.

"Can you talk about it?" Ellen asked me.

"Talk about what?" I teasingly asked.

’I just love answering a question with a question.’

"Matilda," Ellen scowled, "I think you know very well what I'm referring to. Your note! ... The one requiring help ... 'NOW'!"

"Oh, that." Becoming serious I asked, "Ellen, do you know why the school's trip to Toronto was changed to include the detour to Quebec?"

Ellen was quiet for a moment before softly answering, "Yes."

"And you didn't think it was important enough to tell ME about it?"

"It wasn't my place to tell you about it. I was not the one making the request of you, that's Mr. Peterson's arena."

"A few days ago, you told me that I should trust you. How am I supposed to trust you when you carelessly throw me to the wolves?"

"Matilda?" Mary Beth exclaimed in surprise. "Ellen wouldn't do that, she does care about you."

"After the Nuclear bomb that was just dropped on me, I'm not so sure," I shot back.

Ellen's expression indicated she was truly shocked. "Matilda, I'm not sure what to say, or what was said. Please try to understand; they don't always give me all the details of their operations. They just expect me to pick up the pieces afterwards. As far as the visit to Quebec; all they told me is that they needed two girls to substitute for Jean-Paul and Suzette's daughters for a day, and that you could be a twin for the youngest girl. All they wanted to know from me was, could you handle acting as if you were eight years old. They didn’t give me anymore of the details. The question of, would it upset you or not, didn't seem to enter into their plans. As I said, they just expect me to fix things later."

I relaxed a bit after realizing that Ellen hadn’t set me up. "I guess Mr. Peterson grew some scruples somewhere along the line. He wouldn't let me agree until the other man gave me all the information."

"Judging from your request for help, it appears you were upset with their request?" Ellen surmised. "Do you think you can share with us what caused such a reaction?"

"I suppose. I guess I should start at the beginning," I replied sadly. Looking at my partner, I gave her a weak smile, "so you'll know what's going on."

I paused for a few seconds, collecting my thoughts and getting myself ready for what was to come. "It seems there's a scientist in France that designs nuclear weapons, Jean-Paul. He doesn't want to do that anymore, but the people he's been working for, won't let him quit. After discovering they existed and thinking that they'd be able to help him, he contacted the S. P. A."

"Why didn't he contact the French government?" Mary Beth asked.

"He didn't think they would help him, or his family," Ellen jumped in. "He figured that if the government could get him away from his current employer, they would just make him work for them -"

"That's what the man from the shadows told me," I interrupted, confirming I'd been given the same information. "That's why Jean-Paul decided to contact the S. P. A. The S. P. A. doesn't deal in arms, so they wouldn't want his services, at least not in that way. They do want some information from him so they can try to stop a war. The problem is, that Jean-Paul and his family are watched by a security team from the company. He and his wife won't make a move until they know their children are away and safe. That's where I come in; it seems I look like their younger girl, Sally. The man from the shadows wants me to replace Sally for a day.” Suddenly it occurred to me that I didn’t know who would be playing the part of Arabelle. “Do you know who they're planning to use for the older girl?"

"They didn't tell you?"

In reply, I shook my head.

She was silent for a few seconds before answering, "It’s Kimberley. Is that a problem?"

"No, no problem, I was just wondering. Anyway, Jean-Paul and his family will be vacationing in Quebec, which is why the school is going there. Remember the costume party that Mr. Peterson announced we would be attending? That’s where they plan to switch us back."

"That doesn't sound so bad," Mary Beth commented.

"No, not so bad ... not so bad at all," I sarcastically echoed, "that is until you know 'the rest of the story'. You see, for me to act like an eight-year-old would be easy. It’s acting like Sally that's going to be hard."

Both Ellen and Mary Beth gave me questioning looks.

After a few moments to consider how to say it, I began, "It seems that Sally isn't your typical eight-year-old, she's not even your typical two-year-old."

"What?" they asked together.

"Sally is physically eight years old, but her mind hasn't developed beyond that of a two-year-old. That's not to say, she isn't loved by her family, they give her everything she wants, indulged her every whim. Consequently, Sally is, and acts like, a very spoiled little girl. At some point in time, she saw and became completely infatuated with the 'Wizard of Oz' and the munchkins. Because the munchkins are small and because she's small, Sally thinks she IS a munchkin. Her parents have not only gone along with it, but they have actually encouraged her in her fantasy world. They redecorated Sally's room, their house, and their gardens, to look like Munchkin Land. They even plan their vacations around 'Wizard of Oz' conventions and parties. They've even gone so far as to dress Sally like a munchkin all the time. I'm guessing that isn't just to coddle her though, the big skirt of the munchkin costume, hides the fact ..." I paused again. Leaning forward I covered my face with my hands. Taking a deep breath, I forced myself to finish the sentence, "... The skirts hide the fact that Sally has to wear diapers."

The room was deathly quiet for more than a few seconds.

'I wonder what Ellen did with her clock? It should have been ticking.'

Mary Beth broke the silence, after she put the pieces of the puzzle together, "That means you would have to wear -" By then I had started to cry. Mary Beth pulled me close, trying to comfort me. "Ellen, you have to stop them! Matilda can't do what they want. You remember what happened at the hospital? how upset she was then? Just thinking about wearing diapers has her in tears. As Matilda's study partner, don't I have some say in this?"

"Actually Mary Beth, I don't think there's anything you or I can do, outside of offering some advice and our opinions. There's a lot riding on the information they will get from Jean-Paul. I'm afraid that this decision lies solely with Matilda. If she decides to go along with their plan all we can do is, be there to support her."

"I don't think that's right, or fair," Mary Beth complained, still holding me, "asking her to do something like that. I think they should find another way to get what they want."

"But there isn't any time," I whispered meekly.

"Matilda! You aren't seriously considering going along with this, are you?" Mary Beth was scolding me, more than asking the question.

"I don't know!" I cried. Still encased in Mary Beth's protective arms I reached for the box of tissues that were always on Ellen's coffee table. To my surprise it wasn't there, causing me to pull away from Mary Beth to look for it.

"Looking for these?" Ellen handed me a new box with a smile.

"Thank you." Taking several, I wiped my eyes and blew half of my brains out. All right, I didn't blow my brains out, but it took a lot of blowing and wiping before the sludge running out of my nose came to a stop.

"Ellen's right," I told Mary Beth, after the tears had come to a stop. "In the end, it's my decision. I just couldn't make it without talking with both of you first. There are still a bunch of unanswered questions about the whole operation. I don't know if I can pull it off, without -"

At that moment there was a sharp knock on the door.

"It sounds like Mr. Peterson and company have arrived," Ellen announced, rising to open the door. Before opening the door, Ellen looked back, asking, “Are you ready to see them?”

I looked into Mary Beth's eyes as I was fighting off the urge to cry. "It'll be okay Munchkin. We've helped each other through some tough problems before, and together we'll make it through this one," she said softly.

I was hopping she might be saying something with her actions that someday I hoped to hear her say openly.

Even though my eyes were probably red and puffy, I guess they were sparkling again. "Don't get any funny ideas, Munchkin. Helping each other doesn't mean anything more than that. You're my best friend and my study partner, that's all."

I turned to Ellen and slowly nodded. Suddenly Mary Beth pulled me close, wrapping both arms around me as she hugged me tightly.

I was sitting back and wiping away some lingering tears, as Ellen, Mr. Peterson, and Mr. Mysterious, all sat down.

Mr. Peterson actually sounded concerned, "Matilda, I hope you're feeling better."

Still holding one of Mary Beth's hands, I nodded as forced myself to smile bravely at him.

"I'm sorry Matilda,” Mr. Peterson apologized. “I didn't think the thought of wearing diapers would bother you as much as it did. I guess I was right about making sure you had all the information, before you made a decision."

"Let's just say, I'm still working on getting all the information," I replied a little defiantly.

Both Mr. Peterson and Mr. Mysterious looked at each other and then back at me, surprise in their eyes.

"Before we go any further," Ellen interrupted, "I think we need to take care of some introductions. Matilda, Mary Beth, this is Mr. Lloyd Black."

A light suddenly came on in my head. I motioned for Mary Beth to lean down. "Alpha Team," I whispered.

"Is there a problem Matilda?" Mr. Black asked.

"Not at the moment, but we haven't finished yet," I replied. I could tell Mr. Black wasn't amused with my feeble attempt at humor.

"I guess we should finish our discussion and then see if you have any problems," he concluded. "Shall we begin where we left off, or rather, when you abruptly ran out of the room?"

"I'm sorry about that. You kind-of took me by surprise."

"That was apparent. What was it exactly that troubled you; having to act like a young child, wearing diapers, or is it ... being a girl in public?"

'So much for wondering if he knows who I really am. He obviously doesn't know that much about me. I'll guess no one told him about Mary Beth's birthday party, or shopping, or the other places I've been. I have to be a girl in public, because that's what I am. He seemed to enjoy dropping a bomb on me earlier; perhaps I can return the favor.'

"I think it was the shock of having to work out for myself what you were asking me to do, while you were tactfully trying to destroy some unsuspecting outgrowth of shrubbery. I thought it was agreed before we began, that we were going to be honest with each other. Something that I believe you may have forgotten," I reminded him. "Or was it simply that you didn't feel the necessity of being honest with someone as young as I am?" I asked, attempting to put him in his place.

One of the advantages of all the reading I’ve done over the years, and discussing them with mom, has given me a vocabulary well in advance of my years. I have such fun using those skills, from time to time. Especially, when it is least expected, by those who would take me for granted.

Ellen appeared to be trying to suppress a snicker. Mary Beth squeezed my hand, nodding and smiling. Mr. Peterson was almost successful in stifling his own chuckle. Mr. Black appeared to be in shock. I sat quietly, straight faced, as I watched and waited for the expected fallout.

After a little while, Ellen came to Mr. Black's rescue, breaking the silence. "Lloyd, I told you not to underestimate her. She may be small and frail in some areas, but once she gets her feet under her and she starts thinking offensively, instead of reacting defensively, she may be equal to some of our best graduates."

That's when Mr. Peterson lost it and started laughing.

"I guess that, well, perhaps we should start over," he finally conceded.

"Certainly. How do you do, Mr. Black, my name is Matilda. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

"I wasn't thinking of going that far back, but it's nice to meet you Matilda," he replied, chuckling.

"And ... just how far back would you like to go? I believe the Halloween party was the first time I noticed you. You were in the Frankenstein costume I believe," I gently teased.

"You knew that was me -" Mr. Black stammered.

Interrupting once again, I clarified "I didn't know who you were; but that's just the first time I noticed you."

"How do you know that I was Frankenstein?" Mr. Black asked, his voice indicating that he was just a little upset.

I didn't feel like I wanted to give away all my secrets. Also, I didn't want Mr. Black to become too agitated. I'd had my fun and it was time to get down to business, "Your voice. You spoke to me several times that evening. You have a very distinctive voice, which I remembered. It was the same voice that had me on pins and needles, a little while ago, until I put the pieces together. I think I'm over that now. Shall we get back to your request for my help?"

"My voice, I guess I'll have to work on that some more. Now then, from the beginning --"

After we'd gone over all the details of Mr. Black's proposal it was time for questions and answers.

"You realize there are a few flaws in your plan," I announced. "One is, that I'll do almost anything to avoid wearing diapers. I'm not going to explain my reasons why, they aren’t important right now. The biggest problem I see with your plan is, if I agree, the first time someone changes a diaper, besides laughing themselves silly, they're going to know I'm not Sally."

"This is the first thing I thought of when this plan was brought to me," Mr. Peterson agreed.

"I too had some concerns along the same line, until we discovered something that would allow everything to work," Mr. Black confessed. "It was actually our first real break, not to mention the only way that this could work. You see, while the family is at home, in France, a company provided nanny looks after most of Sally's needs. Obviously this wouldn't work while they are at home. But, while the family is on vacation, Sally's mother and older sister take care of her. So the only people that could blow the whistle on this operation are part of the operation."

"It still doesn't mean I'm going to like it, " I sighed, taking a deep breath. "At least I shouldn't have to worry about having a crowd of spectators laughing," I mumbled softly.

"I'm sure Kimberley will be as discreet as possible," Mary Beth assured me.

"How did you know Kimberley would be replacing Arabelle?" Mr. Black asked, his tone indicating he was surprised.

"There you go, underestimating her again," Mr. Peterson remarked. Ellen, Mary Beth, and I sat quietly, smiling.

"Well, I guess how you found out doesn't matter at this moment, but I’d still like to know how or who. You are correct; Kimberley will be looking after you for the twenty-four hours. Do you have any other concerns we need to address?" Mr. Black inquired

"A few more questions. You said some DVD's of Sally are in my room and that I should start practicing her movements and mannerisms. Just how soon would you want me to start practicing and ... how completely?"'

"As soon as possible," Mr. Black replied. "But I'm not sure what you mean by 'how completely'?"

"What she wants to know is, when would you want her to start wearing the, umm, diapers?" Mary Beth volunteered, as I blushed, hung and shook my head.

"Oh. I suppose that's up to Matilda," Mr. Black answered.

A few moments later I lifted my head and asked, "I guess another thing I need to know is. Does Sally makes a fuss about being changed, or not? I know I won't feel comfortable about it. In fact, the idea of having anyone see that part of me, aside from my mother, terrifies me."

"Umm ... I don't know. I don't think we have any information with that much detail. I guess everyone just assumed that there isn’t, I mean she doesn’t," Mr. Black stammered, looking back and forth between Ellen and Mr. Peterson.

"Well somebody better start asking some questions," Mary Beth suggested. "If you want someone to scream, make a fuss, and attract some attention Matilda could probably handle that. If not ... well, we've got some work to do."

It was time for my eyes to grow three sizes, "What do you mean WE?"

"Getting you used to being diapered. After all, we're study partners, we do everything together. Besides, I'm the only other person that's seen you in your ... well, in that state of undress before."

"I don't care! You're NOT changing my diapers. Study partners are always supposed to have at least their underwear on, rule number one. They are never supposed to see each other naked.”

“Matilda?” Mary Beth quietly asked. “Did you say ‘My diapers’?”

I looked at her for a second before dropping my face into my hands, mumbling to myself, shaking my head. The room too was quiet, as everyone waited for me.

After a couple of minutes I looked up. Mary Beth told me later that I was as white as a ghost. "This is going to be hard ... very hard, but I'll do it."

"Thank you, Matilda." Mr. Black said.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Mary Beth asked.

"That's a stupid question. Of course I don't want to do it. But I have to do it," I replied shakily.

"Matilda," Ellen said calmly, putting an arm around me. "You don't have to do this. Don't let them make you think that this is the only way of getting the information they want."

"Just the easiest and most efficient way to get it," Mr. Black countered.

"Easiest for who?" Ellen snapped.

"Easiest for Jean-Paul's family and the S. P. A." Mr. Black countered sternly.

"I know what the S. P. A's motives are," Ellen spat back. "But right now Matilda is my concern. Look at her! She's terrified. By the time you leave, I'm afraid, she'll have lost her mind or -"

I reached out my hand, touching Ellen's knee, stopping her in mid-sentence. The room was deathly quiet; once again, as they waited for me. It was a few moments before I was able to put my feelings into words, almost in a whisper, "Ellen, I know you're trying to look out for me and protect me; thank you. Believe me, I wish they had come up with another way. But I think Mr. Black is right, this is the easiest way, at least for the girls. This is also going to be one of the hardest things I've ever done. It - it will help the most people. There's a big Black Bart, planning to hurt more people than I can count. I've never succeeded in standing up to my Bart before. It's time I stopped running and started helping."

Mary Beth threw her arms around me, "I’ll help you too."

"I know you will, MayBee … But you're still not changing my diapers." By this time, my mind had turned back on and I was thinking clearly. I think most of my color had come back.

"I guess we could get your mother -" Ellen started.

"No," I interrupted. "There's only one person for this unpleasant job, the one who will have to do it while we’re away, Kimberley."

"She's right again," Mr. Peterson said. "I wonder what Kimberley will say about a two or three day assignment, turning into a three week job?"

"Don't you mean a three week 'baby sitting' job." Mary Beth teased, still hugging me.

"I thought you were my friend," I shot back.

"You know I am. After all, 'Who else, but your bosom buddy would break down and tell you the truth'."

I looked into her smiling eyes, surprised by her remark. It took me a moment to make the connection. Smiling, I replied, "Thank you, Vera darling."

"Vera, who's Vera?" Mr. Black inquired.

Still looking into Mary Beth's eyes and still smiling, I replied, "Vera Charles, lifelong friend and confidant, of Miss Mame Dennis."

"Who!"

Giggling, I pulled back from Mary Beth, though still holding her hands, turned and look at Mr. Black, "You really need to get out more, 'Life's a banquet and most poor slobs are starving to death'."

This brought a round of laughter from Ellen, Mary Beth, and me.

After we'd quieted down, Mr. Black asked the question, "You seem to be feeling better; do you have any other concerns or questions?"

"I have a question, and a request; sort of payment for what I'm about to put myself through. I'd like to request that we make a stop in Chicago on our way home, from Toronto, and have a party for the school."

"What?" Mr. Black and Peterson chorused.

"And just where would that be?" Ellen asked, acting a little less surprised.

"There is a little store, where best friends find each other," I answered cryptically, while squeezing Mary Beth's hands.

Mary Beth gasped in surprise. "You don't mean?"

"Yes, I do mean."

I answered Mary Beth's question, with an explanation. "We both want to go there. I'm sure there are others in the school that would very much enjoy a lunch or dinner party. Not to mention, learning a little history while we're there. You have noticed the envious looks we get, when our little friends are out and about."

"History?" Mr. Peterson queried

"Just what are you talking about?" Mr. Black demanded.

Together, Mary Beth and I chorused, "AMERICAN GIRL PLACE!"

"Where?" both gentlemen asked.

"I'll explain it to you both, later. For what you're asking of Matilda, I don't think it's too much to ask," Ellen offered with a chuckle. "I don't know if it can be arranged, or how many of the students would like to attend, but I'll do my best to work it out. Now, what was the other question you wanted to ask?"

"What are you planning to tell the rest of the school?" I inquired.

"What do you mean? Tell the rest of the school, about what?" Mr. Black asked. He’s look that was a cross between shocked and concerned.

"Oh come now, Lloyd," Mr. Peterson chastised. "Matilda has become an almost overnight legend around here. I don't think there's one student here that doesn't know about her antics or heard about the ruckus, at the Halloween Party. Let’s not forget the choir rehearsal over the PA system. Speaking of that, Matilda, I'm still waiting for the written plan, for an approved broadcast. Anyway, it would be impossible for Matilda to make such a sudden change in character, without the whole school becoming alarmed by it."

"I really hadn't thought about that," Mr. Black confessed. "Does anyone have any ideas?"

The 'full grown' adults sat around with blank looks on their faces. At first, I didn't have any ideas either. So, I did what I always do when I'm trying to solve a mystery; I got up and started walking. It's a good thing that Ellen has a large office.

"Where's she going now?" Mr. Black asked, generally.

Making a sudden turn I circled around behind Ellen’s desk, it was obvious I wasn't leaving. Mr. Black then asked, "What's she doing?"

It was several seconds before I overheard Mary Beth whispering, with a little pride in her voice, "She's thinking! You've given her a problem to solve. It's best to leave her alone when she's like this."

I walked around the office for a few minutes, hearing some whispering from time to time. When I'd come up with what, I thought was a brilliant solution, I pulled out my PDA and did some fast checking, who was performing where, scheduling, room availability for four students. I climbed into Ellen's desk chair, as I worked out the details. When I was satisfied, I spun around several times, giggling.

'Who says a girl can't have a little fun now and then? I'm sure Sally would enjoy a spinning around.'

In my best Princess Leigh voice, I teased the two gentlemen, "What, you break in, but you don't have a plan for getting out?"

A moment later, while doing a very poor imitation of Han Solo, Mr. Peterson smiled and pointed at Mr. Black, "He's the brains, Sweetheart."

Mr. Black was obviously not into science fiction, as evident by his very eloquently reply, "What?"

Both Ellen and Mary Beth were amused with the scene and started giggling.

"So, what kind of harebrained idea have you come up with this time?" Mary Beth wished to know.

Spinning once more for fun, I stopped, facing away from everyone. "As I see it, there are at least three options. First, we can lie to everyone and have Ellen invent some psychiatric reason; probably involving a deep, dark, possibly sinister reason, that I've regressed to a two-year-old. More than likely, it would have something to do with my dad, Bart, or what happened in the white van."

"Matilda, have you remembered what happened to you?" Ellen asked. I could hear the concern in her voice.

"Nope, still a complete blank," I replied, somewhat thankfully, as I got up and walked around Ellen's desk.

"I see," Ellen acknowledged. "I don't like that plan. The other psychiatrists and counselors would see through it. For that to work they would all have to be in on the cover-up."

"Very true, we have an excellent staff here," Mr. Peterson commented.

“The more that know about this, the greater the risk of some information leaking out,” Mr. Black complained.

"So, you said three options?" Mary Beth asked, as I sat down next to her.

"One or two little ideas," I replied with a smile. I paused, waiting to see if anyone else had some ideas they wanted to throw out for consideration.

After several seconds of silence, Mr. Peterson complained, "Well, are you going to share them with the rest of us?"

"I don't know if you'll like this one, but there's a hypnotist doing a farewell performance Thanksgiving Day in Ogden."

"And that's relevant because?" Mr. Black questioned.

"Well ... I thought it would be fun to treat the school to dinner and the show," I replied.

"ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND?" Mr. Black exclaimed, almost yelling.

"Easy Lloyd, I'm sure there's more to it than that," Ellen cautioned. "Am I right, Matilda?"

"Naturally, somehow it would have to be arranged for me to be one of the volunteers from the audience. It wouldn't matter what I do, or don't do on stage. The only reason for going would be for an excuse. One or two days after being part of the hypnotist’s show, I’ll suddenly start acting like Sally. Of course, someone would call Ellen to find out what's wrong. You and Mary Beth, would bring me back here, supposedly to find out what's wrong. The official story would be that I’m suffering from a post hypnotic suggestion. I will have to be a little munchkin, until released by the Wizard of Oz. I’m assuming there will be a wizard at the costume party? I just hope whoever cleans the school, won't be too upset."

"What do you mean?" Mary Beth innocently asked.

With a sigh and shaking my head, "Because I'll go through several sets of clothes before someone comes up with the idea of ... umm, diapers."

"Oh ..."

“Of course, we’re still lying to everyone, and they would wonder why the school wouldn't try to find the hypnotist to undo it,” I concluded.

“And just what is your third option?” Ellen asked.

Looking directly at Mr. Black, I smiled as I answered. “Unless someone else has any better ideas, my only other idea is simple and easy, it doesn't involve going anywhere, or spending any money. It's a very simple plan that doesn’t require lying to anyone; we just tell everyone the truth ... the whole truth. Everyone will know what’s going on and why, they'll know why I'm acting funny, they would even be able to help me perfect Sally's character, and best of all, I won’t have to embarrass myself.”

'What happened to Ellen's clock? I know it should be ticking.'

“Where did you say the hypnotist was performing?” Mr. Black asked begrudgingly.

* * * To Be Continued * * *

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