Doppelganger (20 page)

“Perfect,” I said, and closed the phone.

 

“Could you pass the mac and cheese?”

Echo handed the bowl over to me.

“Does anyone else want some?” I asked, holding up the bowl. Everyone shook their heads, so I shoveled the rest out onto my plate and dug in.

“Jesus, you're hungry tonight,” said Barry.

I looked up and realized everyone had pretty much finished their dinner and was watching me. I shrugged. “Didn't really eat lunch today,” I said. Of course it wasn't true. The picnic lunch Amber had made more than filled me at the time, but all of a sudden when I sat down at dinner, I realized I was starved. It was weird—it felt like I hadn't eaten in days. I think I was using so much energy to keep my form, my body just couldn't keep up.

“He always eats a lot when it's yellow meal,” Echo said.

“Chris, if that rash isn't better by Monday, we're taking you to the doctor,” Sheila said. I looked up and saw the worry on her face.

“I'm all right,” I said. The last thing I wanted was to see the doctor. Who knows what kind of tests they'd try to do.

“Well, the way you keep squirming, even I'm starting to itch,” Barry said. “Looks like you rolled in a patch of poison ivy or something.”

I looked down and realized my knee was cycling up and down like a piston. I forced myself to be still.

“So,” I said, to change the subject, “hot date tonight, huh?”

Barry glanced over at Sheila, who blushed slightly. Echo giggled.

“Just going to a movie,” Barry said, lighting up a cigarette. “No big deal.”

Barry and Sheila looked at each other for a second but didn't say anything. Barry went back to his cigarette.

“Dad, could I borrow your car?” I said, finishing my plate. “Josh and I are going out tonight. I'll probably stay over at his place. I'll have it back tomorrow.”

Before he could say anything, Sheila stepped in.

“I don't know, Chris. You look really tired. Maybe you should just stay home and go to bed early.”

“I feel fine, Mom,” I said. “It's been a long week, that's all.”

Barry shrugged. “Just don't do anything stupid,” he said.

“I won't.”

Barry stubbed out his butt, and we all got up. The two of us cleared the table while Mom and Echo loaded the
dishwasher, our new nightly ritual.

A half hour later, I came out from my room just as Barry and Sheila were putting on their coats. Echo came out too, and we all stood together in the hallway for a moment.

“Here you go,” Barry said, handing me his set of keys.

“Thanks,” I said.

Sheila came over and kneeled down before Echo.

“You going to be okay by yourself?” she asked.

“Of course,” Echo said. “It's only a few hours, anyway.”

Sheila smiled and gave her a quick hug and a kiss. Then she stood up and gave me a hug.

“Bye, sweetie,” she said. “Have a good time.”

“Yeah, I'll see you tomorrow,” I said.

I watched them head out, then lingered by the door, looking through the window as they got into Sheila's car, backed out, and drove off.

“I've never seen them go out before. Not together.”

I turned around to see Echo standing in the hallway watching me.

“Me neither,” I said.

“It's good, isn't it?”

“Yeah, it's good.”

I went and took a shower. Afterward, as I stood in the bathroom and wiped away the steam from the mirror, I could see parts of the rash along my torso had turned white and the skin was starting to flake away. And there it was, underneath—the greenish gray of my old self, my real self, veiny, opaque, glistening. At that point I knew it was almost over. Chris was coming to an end.

It kind of made me sad all over again. I mean, even
though I knew he was gone, in some ways it was like he wasn't really dead—not totally, anyway. But once I let his form go, or once it let me go, it would be over for good.

I dressed in fresh clothes and headed out into the living room to say good-bye to Echo, but she wasn't there. She wasn't in her room, either.

“Echo?” I said.

She didn't answer, but then I heard her voice, real faint like it was far away. I followed the sound into the kitchen and saw the cellar door was open, the light on.

I crept down the steps, then paused halfway down. The corner was gone—the sheets were piled on the floor, the tea set put away, the bunnies and bears piled on top of the toy box in the corner. And there was Echo, removing the pictures from the wall, singing to herself.

Before I could say anything, she turned around and, seeing me, started.

“Sorry. Hope I didn't scare you too much,” I said, coming the rest of the way down the stairs.

“No,” she said. “Well, maybe just a little.”

As soon as I got closer, she cocked her head and gave me this look.

“What happened to you?” she said in this little voice. I could tell she was worried.

“What do you mean?” I murmured, as my heart started to pound. I reached up and felt my face and neck. It was a little bumpy, but the skin seemed to be holding.

“You look really bad,” she said, then added, “You're all pasty.”

“I'm just tired,” I said.

“Oh,” she whispered. I could tell she didn't really
believe me—not completely anyway—but she wasn't going to give me a hard time. She never did.

“Anyway, I'm heading out now. I just wanted to say good-bye.”

“Have fun with Amber.”

I froze. “What?” I said, forcing a laugh.

A little smile crept across her face. “You're all spiffied up,” she said. She sniffed the air a couple times. “And you're wearing cologne.”

I shook my head and smiled. “You're too smart for your own good.”

“Don't worry,” she said. “I won't tell.”

“Thanks,” I said. “So what are you doing?” I asked, looking around.

She shrugged. “Putting things away,” she said, looking around as well. “I don't know, I just felt like it. Do you think it's okay?”

“It's fine, Echo,” I said.

She turned back to the pictures on the wall.

“Can I have one?” I asked, seeing her take down another drawing.

“'Course you can. You made them. They're yours.”

She handed me the paper she was holding, the one with the bears dancing in the sunny meadow.

Then something really weird happened. The next thing I knew, I was crying. And not just a little. I mean, I was really bawling. I still don't know why. Like I said before, doppelgangers don't cry. Were not supposed to be able to. At least, that's what my mother had always told me.

Echo didn't say anything. She just came over and gave me a hug, and for a minute we stood there while I collect
ed myself.

“Thanks,” I said, wiping my eyes as she stepped back.

“Don't get your picture wet,” she said.

I folded the paper up and put it in the back pocket of my jeans.

“You're a good sister,” I said.

“You're a good brother.”

We just stood and looked at each other. Then I gave her a little wave and headed up the stairs. I could still hear her singing when I left the house.

I have to admit I was a little nervous getting back behind the wheel. I'd driven only that one time a week ago. Not only that, this car was a little different from Amber's, and it took me a few minutes to figure out where everything was. But I finally managed to turn the lights on and get the car started. Before long I was on my way to Amber's.

As I made my way through town, I was so focused on trying to drive, I didn't realize how jacked up I was until I was almost to her house. Then it hit me all at once—this weird combination of excitement and nervousness all wrapped into one. My knuckles turned white along the edge of the steering wheel, my heart pounded in my ears, and all of a sudden I felt like one of those big meteors streaking in from outer space, skipping across the atmosphere, disintegrating in a trail of fire, burning up in one long, exhilarating rush.

The problem with meteors, though, is that they crash. Whatever's left smashes into the earth and dies, becomes a lump of cold, melted rock.

I had just turned the corner onto Amber's street and could see her house up ahead when a pulse rattled against my chest, a double charge that nearly sent me off the road. A second later it came again. I put my hand on the source of the vibration.

It was the phone. I turned into Amber's driveway, pulled it out of my pocket, and laughed in relief. Here Amber was calling me, and I was right outside her door. I decided to answer it and sneak up on her while we talked—I'd seen them do that sort of thing on TV all the time. It would be a funny trick.

But when I answered the phone, the trick was on me.

“Yes?” I quipped, stepping out of the car.

“So you decided to skip class again, I see,” a voice purred. “You're a naughty, naughty boy.”

It took a second before I realized who it was. I froze, unable to speak.

“What's the matter?” the sheganger teased. “Cat got your tongue?”

I got back into the car and shut the door as quietly as I could.

“How did you get this number?” I hissed.

“Oh, I just had a nice long chat with that girl of yours. You know, a little heart-to-heart. Could hardly get her to shut up, in fact. Still, I understand the attraction. She's certainly got the goods, a perfect specimen.”

“I told you before to leave her alone.”

“I'm happy to. After all, I've got the teacher. She's more than adequate. Only you need to cooperate. I can't wait forever, you know.”

“I told you I'm not interested.”

“Of course you are, you silly boy. You think I can't tell seeing you,
smelling
you. So stop all this dramatic nonsense—it's disgustingly human.”

“Sorry, the answer's the same,” I said, trying to keep my voice from quavering. “I've got to go.”

I started to close up the phone, when I heard her call out, “Wait!” I hesitated, then brought the phone back up to my ear.

“What?” I snapped.

“If you won't come to me as I am, then I'll take a form that I
know
you'll find appealing.”

My stomach fell, and for a second I just closed my eyes. I knew who she was talking about. Until this moment I'd been trying to fool myself into thinking that it wasn't going to come to this, but really I knew. The second I caught her scent in the air at school, I sensed deep down that it meant trouble.

I glanced through the windshield at the big house. Amber was somewhere inside, waiting for me. And I could go in there, I could protect her tonight, even tomorrow. But not forever. Somehow the sheganger would find a way. After all, it's what we're good at. It's what we're made for.

That and one other thing. Suddenly I knew what I had to do.

“You still there?” she said.

“All right,” I said. “You know Parson Woods? The forest outside of town where you ditched the Subaru?”

There was a pause. She was trying to figure out how I knew. “Sure,” she said at last.

“Meet me there at eight thirty.”

“I knew you'd come to your senses.”

“Let's just get it over with,” I said. “Half an hour.”

“Sounds good,” she replied. “I've got some business to take care of anyway.”

“So do I.”

I closed up the phone before she could say good-bye. I didn't want to hear her say another word.

I started up the car and backed out of the driveway as fast as I could. Trying to keep one eye on the road as I headed down the street, I flipped the phone open again and pressed the button Amber had showed me earlier. It wasn't easy—I almost dropped the stupid thing my hand was shaking so hard. A few seconds, later Amber's voice was in my ear.

“Hi, Amber,” I said.

“Chris?”

“No, it's Gabriel,” I said, trying to laugh.

“Sorry,” she said. “I can't believe I forgot. It's going to take me a while.”

“That's okay,” I said. “Listen, Amber, I'm going to be late.”

“What's wrong?” she said. She wasn't dumb. She could tell something was up.

“Nothing serious. There's just something I've got to do first. I'm sorry. I'll tell you all about it later.”

“You promise?”

“I promise,” I said.

There was a pause on the other end. “Okay,” she said at last. “Oh, by the way, did Ms. Simpson call you yet?”

“No,” I whispered.

“Well, we had this long talk. It was really weird, but it was good. And that whole thing that happened
yesterday—when I saw you two—we cleared it all up. Sorry again that I overreacted. Anyway, there's a quiz you need to make up. She said she'd get a hold of you.”

“Thanks, Amber,” I said. “I'll see you soon.”

“See you soon,” she said.

 

I glanced at my watch as the headlights appeared through the trees. Eight thirty. She was punctual, all right. Somehow that didn't surprise me. I leaned against the hood of Barry's car and tried to seem steady, tried to seem cool as the headlights came around the corner and flashed onto me as she pulled up.

She stepped out of the car and walked toward me.

“Hey, gorgeous,” she said.

“Did you take care of your business?” I asked. I had an idea what it was, but I wanted to make sure.

“Just needed to tie up some loose ends. Write a few letters, that sort of thing. It seems Ms. Simpson has abruptly resigned and left town for unknown parts so she can—how do they like to put it?—go find herself.”

“So you're dropping her just like that?”

“Why not? After tonight I won't need her anymore. Besides, think of it as a public service—should supply this town with enough gossip to get them through the next few years,” she said. “Then again, who knows? Maybe she won't even be missed.”

“She will be. I know I miss her.”

The sheganger sighed. “Ms. Simpson? You've got to be kidding me. And all this time I thought you didn't like the teacher.”

When I didn't say anything, she took another step closer.
Even in the shadows, I could see her eyes sparkle as she smiled at me, her breath coming in little puffs of steam in the night air. My nostrils flared as her scent started to reach me through the cold.

“Well, I brought her along if you want to say hello. She's right back there in the trunk.”

“No thanks,” I said, taking a few steps back. I needed to get away from her smell.

She laughed. “Look at you. Even now, you're still fighting it. All because of some human female. Some silly little girl.”

“She's not some silly girl,” I said. “And I'm doing this for her.”

She sniffed. “How noble of you. You know, I might just kill the pathetic little thing anyway when this is over.”

“Why do you have to go and say something like that?”

“Well, somebody has to teach you a lesson. You can't get all involved with these people. Otherwise, how can you be what you are? It's not good for you. It's certainly not good for them. You need to understand.”

“I understand, all right.”

“Good. Now, let's get down to business, handsome. Which backseat do you want, yours or mine? Mine's more comfortable.”

I pulled the pistol from my pocket and raised it. It was Barry's gun. I'd gone back for it after leaving Amber's. I wasn't sure I'd use it, I wasn't even sure I could. Now I'd find out.

The gun shook slightly in my hand as I pointed it at her.

She squinted for a moment, as if she was trying to figure
out what I was doing. Then she started to laugh.

“A gun?” she said. “You've got to be kidding me.”

I didn't say anything.

“You can't seriously be thinking about doing this,” she sneered.

“I told you to leave her alone. You wouldn't listen to me.”

“What the hell is wrong with you? I mean, just for the sake of argument, so what if I did take the girl? It's no different from anything you've done.”

“It
is
different!” I shouted.

She shook her head in disgust. “All right, enough. Put the gun away and let's go. It's time.”

“No,” I said. The gun lowered slightly. “I told you before, it isn't going to happen. I don't want it to.”

It wasn't completely true. A part of me still wanted to, even after everything. And seeing her there right in front of me, her scent so close, didn't help. But it wasn't what I'd come here for.

“Of course you want to,” she said. “You have to. That's just the way it is. You can't fight nature.”

“I'm going to try,” I said, raising the gun again.

“By killing me?” she said, her voice rising slightly. I could tell she was starting to get a little worried. “You don't want to couple, fine. But you can't
kill
me. We don't kill one another. We never have.”

“Why not?”

“We just don't. There are too few of us to engage in that sort of nonsense.”

“I don't care,” I said. “I can't let you hurt her. I can't let you hurt any of them. Not anymore.”

“But that's what I
do
. That's all that I am, you know that. I kill. I'm a doppelganger.”

“So am I,” I whispered, cocking the gun.

She shook her head again. “They really got to you, didn't they? You know, it's kind of ironic if you think about it. I mean, you talk about defying nature, resisting me, resisting your urges, but if you hadn't given in to them, if you hadn't killed Chris, you never would've gotten to this point.”

“Life's funny, I guess,” I said.

“It certainly is.” She smiled and looked down at the ground.

“Turn around.”

She took a step toward me. “I know what this is about,” she said. “You think that if you do this, it'll be over, right? All the conflict you feel, the guilt, the self-loathing, it'll all come to an end by killing me. Isn't that so?” She took another step.

“Stop it!” I shouted. “Turn around!”

“Well, it won't,” she said, then paused. “It won't ever end, because the urge will always be there. In fact, it's there right now, isn't it? It's been a while since the last time, after all. Since you took Chris.”

I was shaking pretty bad now. She started walking toward me again.

“Please don't do this, Chris,” she cooed. “I know you can't. You can't kill your own teacher.”

“I'm not Chris,” I whispered. “And you're not her.”

“I can be whoever you want me to be,” she said.

Her arms reached out.

Nothing can prepare you for the first time. No matter
what you've seen on TV, no matter what anyone tells you, there's something about shooting a gun—the noise, the recoil, the muzzle's flash—that takes you by surprise.

I don't doubt that the look of shock on my face matched her own as we both stared down at the hole in her chest. She reached up and put her fingers to the spot, then pulled them back to gaze at the blood blackening her hand.

When she looked back up at me, the shock was beginning to fade and the slightest smile had settled in.

It lasted only a moment.

Soon she began to twitch, then bubble and blur as her human face slowly dissolved and her true features emerged, starting with the eyes—the wide bulbous orbs mingling with Ms. Simpson's nose and mouth. At that point I turned away. I just couldn't watch.

When I looked back, she had crumpled. The transformation was complete.

I walked over to where the sheganger lay sprawled across the gravel and watched the slit of her mouth as it opened and closed a few times. Then, in the headlights' glow, she went still.