Molly Moon & the Monster Music by Georgia Byng Page B

comfortable with the instrument. The audience hushed in anticipation.
    Molly couldn’t play the guitar, but she remembered that the Molly on the beach in her dream had been able to play the guitar perfectly. She had no idea how the frets worked, how to get a good sound from it—and yet she felt an urge to play it. The electric guitar was such a gorgeously cool instrument that it would be a pity if she could not get a good sound from it.
    If her newfound musical ability didn’t stretch to mastering the guitar, that was fine, she thought. She would simply pretend that she was fooling around and then she’d go back to the harmonica. Yet she had a feeling it would work.
    Molly let her finger pluck out three notes. It felt good. Her fingers seemed to know what they were doing. She plucked six more notes and then, withouther thinking about it, the fingers on her left hand changed position, pressing down on the guitar’s fret board as though they had a mind of their own. Molly’s right hand strummed. The left hand moved again, and Molly’s right hand strummed faster. And then the music took off. Molly was a musical force. It was the best guitar music that anyone in the Tokyo Dome had ever heard. Molly made the guitar talk. She made it sing. She was astounding. The audience was spellbound.
    She knew the end of her piece was coming. She stared out into the crowd and smiled with satisfaction, getting ready for the glory that she knew awaited her. She let her fingers fly and a crescendo of notes filled the air. Then she flung her hand away from the guitar in a gesture of finality—Molly was finished.
    At first the audience was so enamored by Molly that it was stunned. Then it blew its top. The applause was so full of screams that it sounded like a flock of alien birds had possessed the stadium.
    If the audience had known what had really just happened to them, their cries might well have been screams of fear, but they had no idea that Molly’s music had hypnotized them. And Molly was thrilled to see their reaction.
    Molly was fast becoming a monster. She had no feelings for the thousands of people before her. She simply wanted their adoration and their money. She bowed. Then she raised her eyes to the glass box that hung at the edge of one of the stands. She could see Mr. Proila there. He was standing up, observing the crowd and puffing on a fat cigar. He looked at Molly. Molly nodded slowly at him. She gestured toward the audience as if to say, “Now do you see what I can do?” But she didn’t need to point anything out. Mr. Proila had already seen the effect she had had. Although he’d not heard a note from Molly of course, he could see the crowd’s reaction.
    â€œShe’s genius!” Miss Sny insisted, making sure Mr. Proila could read her mouth.
    Back in the dressing room, Gerry and Toka were watching a martial-arts film with Petula beside them. They had missed the performance. When Molly came back, she hardly noticed them. Adrenaline pumped through her as she reeled from her new thrilling power.
    â€œYou were great! I mean, truly great,” Hiroyuki declared. “They loved you. They definitely want to see you more, Molly. You could be really big.”
    â€œI should be, shouldn’t I?” Molly asked.
    â€œDefinitely,” agreed Chokichi.
    â€œYou could take my place in the band,” suggested Toka. “I’d love it if you did that.”
    Molly smiled. Things were moving in the right direction, she thought. But she didn’t want Toka’s place. She wanted more than that.
    â€œDid you all play together?” Gerry asked.
    Molly noticed Gerry now, rather like a cat might notice a flea on its fur.
    â€œNo,” she said coldly. “I played the harmonica and then I played the guitar. Both times on my own.”
    â€œCan you play the guitar, too, now?” Gerry asked incredulously. “That’s amazin’. When I last saw