Molly Moon Stops the World by Georgia Byng Page B

composers, special-effects makers, designers, and producers.
    “I don’t know why I didn’t think of it before. It’s perfect. Where else could we dehypnotize each and every one of these stupid stars so quickly? We’ll go to the Oscars too.”
    Rocky raised his eyebrows and smiled. “Sounds like fun.”
    “Fun for some, but the trouble is, Rocky, for us it’swork. If it’s
tomorrow,
we’ve got to get moving. If we’re going, we’ve got to look like movie people’s kids. I’ll need a dress, we’ll both need shoes, and you have got to get a tuxedo.”
    “A tux what?”
    “A special evening suit. We better get to the shops quick. We’ll call Lucy later.”
    With that, Molly ran inside to get her knapsack.
    Little did they know that nearby, some new hypnotism students were having their first session.
    “I think we need it to be really quiet if we’re going to do this,” Gemma said, kneeling on the carpet. At that moment there was a scratch at the door. Gerry let Petula in.
    “Okay, Petula, you can come in, but no noise.”
    Petula cocked her head and lay down by the bed to watch what the two young humans were up to. Gemma and Gerry crouched in front of a glass vase. In it sat Victor, the biggest mouse.
    Victor was annoyed to have been lifted out of his warm straw bed where he’d been sleeping off his jet lag. He chewed on a piece of seed and shot what he hoped was a filthy look at the two humans outside his container. His favorite human, the boy he called Big One, and the girl who was often with him, were looking athim, their bodies distorted through the glass. The furry beast was there too.
    “Okay, so we’ve done the first bit,” said the girl. “You’re
sure
that mice squeak like that, Gerry?”
    “Yes. It’s the kind of squeak they do before they go to sleep.” The boy made a whispery, squeaky noise.
“Ssssssssqqquuuueak.
You do it,” he said. The girl copied him.
    “That’s it. Do that.” Gerry studied the photocopied instructions in front of him. “It says,” he read,
“‘Repeat the ani—mal’s voice, in a lullin’ way, until the animal be—comes rocked into a tran … a tran…’
I can’t read it.”
    “A trance.” Gemma took the paper. “It’s like a dreamy thing just before you get hypnotized. A bit like being in a sort of daydream.”
    “We gotta make Victor go into a daydream?”
    “A trance. ‘
Once the animal is in a trance, you will know it from the fusion feeling.’
Okay. Let’s do it.”
    Victor scratched his ear with his back foot and wondered whether there were still any potato chips hidden under his exercise wheel. All of a sudden, the girl outside the vase began to squeak repetitively, like a very large mouse.
    After five squeaks, Victor pricked up his ears. The girl seemed to be trying to communicate with him in mouse language. Her tone wasn’t exactly “mouse.” It had a strong human accent, but was an understandablesqueak all the same. It seemed to translate into “Slaap, slaap, slaap.” Victor assumed she meant
sleep, sleep, sleep.
He felt slightly peeved. That was
exactly
what he’d been doing before he was so rudely
awakened
and put into this glass vase.
    Petula lay with her head between her front paws. She often listened to the mice talking to one another. What was more, Petula understood what Gemma was trying to do as well. Living with Molly in New York, Petula had seen, heard, and, more importantly,
felt
lots of people being hypnotized. Petula could feel Gemma trying to hypnotize Victor. The feeling wasn’t right, Petula thought. The girl’s voice was calming, but she didn’t have that extra something that Molly had.
    Petula edged forward until she could see the mouse in the vase. She growled softly.
    Victor watched the furry beast approach. He knew it wasn’t dangerous, as he’d often run around floors where it had been lying. Once he’d even run over its back by mistake. But one thing he’d never done was look into the furry