by R. L. Stine
But I would like that, I decided. I’d like that a lot.
Yes. Yes. Let’s trade, I thought.
Lucy didn’t have it easy. But her life was better than mine.
And she had Kent. Kent Borden was such a great guy. So smart. So funny.
Even though Lucy was my best friend, I’d often wondered what it would be like to go out with Kent. Kent instead of David.
Now I’ll find out, I thought.
Lucy and I will switch bodies. And I’ll find out what it’s like to be with Kent.
Such sick, strange thoughts.
The light became grayer, the air heavier as we moved deeper into the woods. Our shoes crunched over the blanket of dead leaves that covered the ground.
“I think it’s right up there,” Lucy said, stopping to pull a white burr from her hair. “Ouch! It’s prickly!” She tossed it to the ground.
A bird uttered a long, loud cry, somewhere above our heads. It was such a sad wail, it made me stop. “It sounds so human,” I told Lucy. “Like a human crying.”
The sound repeated. I hesitated, chilled by the strange, mournful sound.
Lucy’s expression grew solemn. “Don’t chicken out,” she scolded. “Don’t chicken out now. You want to do this, Nicole. You know you do.”
I gazed at her, surprised by her sudden seriousness. “I’m coming with you,” I said softly. “I’m not chickening out.”
The bird wailed above our heads as we made our way through a tangle of scrub pine. Just beyond the shrubs stretched a long stone wall. Built of smooth gray stones, the wall reached a foot or so over our heads.
“My grandfather described this wall,” Lucy confided. “Before he died, Grandpa told me where it was, told me the story of how it came to be built and how it got its incredible powers.”
I swallowed hard, staring straight ahead at the wall. Deep cracks crisscrossed its surface like roads on a map. The plaster between the stones was chipped and broken.
“The wall is old, huh?” I asked my friend.
She nodded, staring straight ahead at it. “No one knows how old.”
“And who built it?” I asked, brushing a mosquito off my arm.
“No one knows that, either. At least that’s what Grandpa told me. He said it’s called the Changing Wall. He said that over a hundred years ago, evil people came to the woods to use the wall and change their bodies. To switch bodies with unwilling victims.”
I gasped. “You mean they forced people to change bodies with them?”
Lucy nodded. “That’s how they escaped from paying for the crimes they had committed.”
I stared at the wall. “Wow,” I murmured. I turned to Lucy. “How did your grandfather find out about it?”
“From the old caretaker at the Fear Street cemetery,” Lucy replied. “The caretaker lived in a cottage in the woods behind the cemetery. He knew all the old stories and legends—horror stories, mostly—of what went on in the woods. He would never repeat the stories, until one day many years ago. On that day, he told my grandfather the secret of the Changing Wall.”
Lucy ran her hand gingerly over a smooth gray stone on the wall. As she touched it, the sky grew even darker. A deep gray settled around us. It seemed as if her touching the wall had made the world grow darker.
But of course that was only my twisted imagination.
I reached up my hand to touch the wall, but slowly drew it back.
Lucy snickered. “It’s only stones and plaster, Nicole. It won’t bite you.”
“H-how does it work?” I stammered. My chest suddenly felt fluttery. I realized I was very frightened.
“Grandpa explained it all. It’s really so simple,” Lucy replied. “We climb up on the wall. We hold hands. We jump off, down to the other side. And when we land on the other side of the wall—”
“When we land, we’re switched?” I interrupted.
Lucy nodded. “When we land, we will be switched. Your mind will be in my body. And my mind will be in your body. When people look at me, I’ll look like you and everyone will think I’m you.”
I stared at her, letting her words sink in. Then I raised my eyes to the wall, so gray and solemn, its dark shadow slanting over us.
“You really want to do this?” I asked Lucy.
“Come on. We have to try it,” she replied. She took my hand again. This time both of our hands were cold and clammy.
She squeezed my hand. “It’s so simple, Nicole. A simple jump. We have to try it. We really have to.”
She raised her hands toward the top of the wall. “Give me a boost,” she instructed.
I helped hoist her onto the top. It took her a short while to gain her balance. “It’s kind of bumpy up here,” she warned, lowering herself onto her knees. “The wall is so narrow and cracked. Be careful, Nicole. Be careful not to fall off.”
She reached down both hands to help pull me to the top.
I hesitated. Behind us I heard the mournful wail of the bird, high in the trees.
Was it a warning sound?
Was the bird warning me away?
What kind of a bird sounds so much like a girl crying so bitterly? I wondered.
“Come on, Nicole,” Lucy urged, shaking her hands impatiently. “Hurry. It’s hard to balance up here. And the stones are cutting my knees.”
I ignored the wails of the bird and grabbed Lucy’s hands. She tugged me to the top. I scraped my left knee on the side. But I managed to scramble up beside my friend.
On our knees we rested a few minutes, catching our breath.
Then we both slowly, carefully, climbed to our feet. And turned to face the other side.
I don’t know why, but I expected to see something different on the other side of the wall. Different trees. Different sky. A house or something.
Some sign that everything on the other side was changed.
But the clearing on the other side was surrounded by the same tangled, shadowy woods.
My knees began to tremble as I took Lucy’s hand.
Can I do this? I asked myself. Can I really do this?
A simple jump, I reminded myself. That’s all there is to it. A simple jump.
And my life will be changed.
Lucy and I glanced at each another. I could see my fear reflected in her dark green eyes. I was sure she could see her fear reflected in mine.
It was as if we had traded our frightened feelings even before we leapt off the wall together. As if the switch had already begun.
My chest fluttered so hard, I could barely breathe. Cold sweat trickled down my cheeks.
I grabbed Lucy’s hand. I held it tightly.
I lowered my eyes to the ground. Not a very far jump. Onto tall, soft grass.
“Ready?” Lucy asked softly.
“Ready,” I replied without hesitation.
I squeezed her hand. I took a deep breath.
And we both jumped.
chapter
3
I hit the ground hard, landing on both feet. Pain shot up from my ankles, and I dropped to my knees.
The pain roared up my legs, my chest, my head. The woods turned bright scarlet.
Breathing hard, I shook away the pain and climbed to my feet.
Had it worked? Had our jump to the other side of the wall made us change bodies?
I turned to Lucy—but she had disappeared. “Lucy?”
I was staring at myself!
Her mouth—my mouth dropped open as she stared back at me.
I lowered my eyes to examine myself. I was wearing Lucy’s clothes—the sleeveless yellow T-shirt, the short black skirt over yellow tights.
“Oh, wow!” I murmured. I slid my hands over my face. Felt my nose. Lucy’s tiny nose. Reached up and ran one hand over my ponytail. Lucy’s hair. Not my hair.
I’m Lucy, I realized.
I’m Nicole in Lucy’s body.
We were both giggling now. Both staring at each other, wide-eyed, not believing it. Staring and giggling.
> Neither of us said anything.
We both started laughing hard. We tossed back our heads and laughed up at the sky.
I felt giddy. I felt crazy. I felt out of control.
Tears of laughter brimmed in my eyes. Through the tears, I stared at myself. At Lucy in my body. It wasn’t like looking in a mirror. I realized I had never really seen myself before.
I had never seen the single dimple that deepened in my right cheek when I laughed. Never noticed that my mouth curled up more on one side than the other.
I had never been able to see how my long hair glistened down my back. How it swished behind me with each turn of my head.
It’s so strange, so totally strange. I’m outside myself, I thought. I’m outside myself watching me.
I’m Lucy now, watching Nicole.
I stared as Nicole raised her hands to her cheeks, saw her long red nails spread out against her face.
We were still laughing, tears running down our cheeks.
And suddenly we were hugging each other, holding on to each other tightly. Laughing and hugging. Laughing and crying at the same time.
We started spinning. Holding on to each other, we started spinning in a wild, joyful dance.
Spinning faster and faster. Nicole and Lucy. Lucy and Nicole. Switched. Whirling together. Together. Not one. Not the other.
Spinning in a circle of both of us.
Whirling and laughing. So much joy.
And then it ended as sudden as the jump that started it. And we dropped to our knees on the warm grass, breathing hard. And gazed at each other with solemn expressions.
The giddiness vanished, and we realized what we had done.
We had jumped more than a few feet. We had jumped into new lives. Jumped into each other’s life.
Lucy began singing. “Dum-dum-dum-dum dum-dum-dum-dum.” I recognized the theme song from The Twilight Zone.
I laughed. “You’re right,” I agreed. “We’ve stepped into the Twilight Zone.”
“We can’t tell anyone,” Lucy said, her voice a hushed whisper now. “Not anyone, Nicole.”
“Call me Lucy,” I told her. “I’m you now. Call me by your name.”
She hesitated. “I still think of myself as Lucy,” she said. “Even though I look like Nicole now.”
“You’re right,” I agreed. “We can’t tell anyone. No one would believe it anyway. We’ll live each other’s lives for a while—”
“And when we get tired of it,” Lucy interrupted, “we’ll come back here to the Changing Wall. And we’ll change back.”
“Yes,” I quickly agreed. Then I felt a pang of guilt.
“What’s wrong?” Lucy asked. She must have seen my expression change.
“I won’t want to change back,” I confessed. “My life is the pits. I—I think you made a bad deal, Lucy.”
“Nicole, don’t worry about it,” she replied. “I think—”
“But my parents are so awful!” I cried. “They’re like watchdogs. Always sniffing, always alert, always waiting to catch me in some kind of trouble. And . . . and David—”
“What about David?” Lucy asked softly.
“I told you he broke up with me,” I replied. “So you won’t have a boyfriend.”
She smiled and brushed back her long, dark brown hair with the shiny red fingernails. “Maybe I’ll try to win him back,” she purred.
“And now I have Kent,” I continued, still troubled and guilty. “Kent is such a great guy. How do you feel about that, Lucy? How do you feel about me going out with Kent now?”
She shrugged. “Nicole, this was my idea, remember? I knew exactly what I was getting into.”
I opened my mouth to reply, but there didn’t seem to be any more to say. The sky above the trees darkened. The afternoon sun had started to lower itself. A warm breeze made the newly unfurled leaves shimmer and whisper all around us.
“We’d better get home,” Lucy said.
“My mom will be waiting for you at the door,” I warned her. “You’d better have a good excuse ready.”
“I’ll just tell her we jumped off a wall and switched bodies, and that’s why I’m late,” Lucy said, grinning. My dimpled grin. She tossed back my dark brown hair as she started to laugh.
We both laughed. I still felt so giddy, so strange.
I stretched my arms above my head. I took a few steps over the tall grass in my new body.
I felt awkward. The legs moved differently. The feet were smaller. It took an effort to stand up straight, to keep the head raised.
Walking should be natural, I told myself. But I just wasn’t used to this body.
A few more steps. I glanced back at the wall. In the fading light it appeared to be a gray blur. Just a dark cloud above the grass. If I didn’t squint, I couldn’t see it at all.
As if it didn’t exist.
Lucy and I didn’t say much as we made our way through the woods to the street. I guess we were lost in our own thoughts, thinking about our new lives. Getting used to our new bodies.
A few minutes later we stepped back onto Fear Street. The old Fear mansion rose up like a dark creature against the graying sky. I saw two scrawny cats scampering along a row of graves in the cemetery.
We walked on in silence. I said goodbye to Lucy about a block from my house. “Good luck!” I cried.
“Good luck,” she echoed. Then she waved to me, turned, and jogged across the street.
I stood and stared. It was just so weird watching myself run away.
I watched Lucy until the trees blocked her from view. Then I turned and headed toward her house on Canyon Drive.
Can I really fool Lucy’s parents? I wondered.
Can I really make the Kramers think that I’m their daughter?
And will I be able to fool Lucy’s friends? Will I be able to fool Kent? Will I be able to fool my own friends?
So many questions as I hesitated at the bottom of Lucy’s driveway and stared up at her little white shingled house.
Remember, Nicole—I warned myself—don’t be sarcastic. Lucy is never sarcastic. You’re the sarcastic one. Lucy is sweet and serious.
I took a deep breath and made my way up to the house. The front door was open halfway. I pulled open the screen door and stepped into the small entryway.
“Hi! I’m home!” I called. “Sorry I’m so late!”
No reply.
The car was in the driveway. The Kramers had to be home.
“Where are you?” I called.
I started into the living room.
But stopped at the doorway with a loud gasp.
I blinked several times, but the gruesome scene refused to go away.
I grabbed the doorframe with both hands and stared down in horror at the dark puddles of blood. The slashed bodies sprawled on the floor.
And then I opened my mouth in a scream I thought would never end.
chapter
4
My legs trembled so violently, I fell. Landed on my knees.
My whole body shuddered. I fought back the nausea that choked my throat.
Lucy’s parents lay dead on the living room carpet. On their backs. Their bodies slashed and ripped. Their clothes cut and soaked with blood. Eyes staring blankly up at the ceiling in wide horror.
And the blood . . . The puddles . . . So dark and wide . . . beneath their cut, twisted bodies like wine-colored rafts.
Like deep, dark holes in the shaggy white rug.
The Kramers. Lucy’s parents. Murdered. Dead on the living room floor.
“Lucy. Lucy. Lucy.” I don’t know how long I repeated her name.
I don’t know how long I remained there at the living room doorway, on my knees, trembling all over, blinking rapidly, staring at the horror.
Staring at the slashed bodies of Lucy’s parents.
Repeating my friend’s name in a low chant. “Lucy. Lucy. Lucy.”
I could have been there for only a minute or two. Or it could have been an hour.
“Lucy. Lucy. Lucy.”
Waves of red rushed before my eyes. Hot waves of red blood washed over me, blinding me, choking me.
“Lucy. Lucy. Lucy.”
Rubbing my eyes, trying to rub away the ugly scene of horror, I struggled to my feet.
And staggered to the front door.
“Got to tell Lucy,” I murmured out loud.
I couldn’t think of anything else. The horror was too fresh, the blood too red.
“Got to tell Lucy.”
I stumbled out the front door. My new body still felt strange. I had to concentrate on placing one foot in front of the other.
Lucy and I will have to switch back now, I realized. We’ll have to return to that gray wall in the woods and switch back.
Poor Lucy.
She wanted to try a new life. But now . . .
Every time I blinked, I saw the dark puddles on the white carpet, saw the Kramers’ blank, staring eyes. Saw their clothes all cut . . . all cut . . .
Somehow I made it to my house. My ponytail had come undone, but I made no attempt to fix it. I had torn the yellow tights.
The sun had lowered behind the houses, cooling the air. But I was drenched in sweat.
I must have run the whole way. At least six blocks. I didn’t remember running. But I was gasping for air, my chest heaving up and down, as I crossed the street to my house.
Over the front lawn. The grass freshly mowed. Moist blades sticking to my sneakers as I ran.
Onto the front porch. “Lucy! Lucy!” My voice breathless and shrill as I frantically called her name.
I stopped outside the front door. Stopped to catch my breath. And to think.
How could I tell her what I had seen in her living room?
How could I tell her?
How?
chapter
5
I’ll have to get her alone, I decided.
My parents will think I’m Lucy. They’ll wonder why I am bursting in at dinnertime. They’ll wonder why my hair is all disheveled and my clothes torn. They’ll wonder why I am so upset and out of breath.
There will be so many questions, questions, questions.