Alex and The Other

by Dowding, Philippa;

  He listened to the horses eating. It calmed him. Whatever was going on, at least the barn was the same place, even if his cat wasn’t in it. Soon it was dark out, and he was getting hungry. He said good night to the horses and walked to the house. He looked over at the forest and called his cat a few times. But she wasn’t out there.

  He walked in the back door. Into the kitchen. And stopped.

  “Yes, green fog. You heard me. And panicked pigs.” Carl was talking to their parents through the computer.

  He heard his mother say, “Green fog?” His father said, “Panicked pigs?”

  Green fog? Alex listened more closely.

  “That’s not all,” Carl said quietly. “Old McGregor also says that two of his piglets vanished!”

  “What about a green fog?” Alex stepped into the living room.

  Carl turned around, surprised. “Alex! You’re late! Snowball fight with friends after school or something? Here, talk to Mom and Dad while I get you some dinner.”

  “No really, what about the green fog?” Alex demanded. He was too tired and cold to tell Carl about missing the bus. Or no. He didn’t miss it. IT missed him.

  “Oh, it’s nothing, just old Farmer McGregor. You know him and his weird stor­ies. A giant’s hand, now vanishing pigs — the old man is kind of crazy.” Carl rolled his eyes, then stirred some delicious-smelling soup on the stove.

  Alex sat in front of the computer screen. His parents looked out at him. It was sunny and warm where they were. They were wearing short-sleeved shirts. His mom looked like she was already a little tanned.

  “Alex, are you … are you okay?” she asked. He felt his bottom lip tremble. He dropped his head and looked at his hands.

  “Yes,” he said.

  “Are you sure, Alex? You look a little pale,” his mother said. The sound of her voice made him sad. He pushed away the feeling that he really, really wanted her to hug him. She couldn’t. Being half a world away.

  “Actually, I was going to say he looked a little green around the gills,” his father added. Hilarious, Dad.

  “I’m fine,” Alex lied.

  “Well, what have you been doing this week?” His mother could tell there was something wrong. But what, really, could he possibly say?

  My cat is missing, there’s a terrifying girl out there, my reflection is talking to me, not to mention weirdly tall strangers. And The Other. Whatever that is, I’m supposed to beware it. You already know about the green fog. Come to think of it, quite a bit, Mom.

  “Not much.”

  “Are you sure you’re okay? You really do look awfully pale,” his mother pressed.

  “We can almost see through you, son!” his father joked.

  Not funny, Dad. His parents talked for a while about whatever they were studying in the soil in Australia. They were botanists. And Alex couldn’t even grow a healthy bean plant. He didn’t say much more, but he did nod a little when his mother said, “You know we miss you, right, Alex?”

  He said goodnight, signed off the computer, and sat at the kitchen table to eat Carl’s soup.

  There was a piece of paper beside Carl’s empty bowl.

  Alex could just make out the word “fog” on the paper. He eyed Carl, who had his back to him. He was at the computer, playing online chess.

  Alex made a noise with his soup spoon and quietly turned the paper toward him. It was a photocopy of an old newspaper clipping. Alex could see a part of the headline, “Frequent Fog Patches …” His heart beat just a little faster. Carefully, Alex pulled the paper toward him, bit by bit.

  Carl cleared his throat, but he didn’t turn around.

  The headline read, “Frequent Fog Patches Cause Panic Among Local Pigs.” The date on the photocopy said “1907.”

  Over one hundred years ago!

  Alex read quickly. The first line of the news story said, “Mr. Ebner Fingles put his farm up for sale after 104 years in the family. ‘No comment,’ Mr. Fingles said when asked to discuss his panicky pigs. His wife, however, said, ‘Them pigs was acting very strange the other night, after that green fog rolled over the barnyard. That’s not the worst part, though, those two tall strangers, with their awful weird voices …’”

  Carl walked into the room, grabbed the paper from Alex, and stuffed it into his coat pocket. He frowned down at Alex, who tried to look innocent. Carl was no good with children, not even his little brother.

  “Mrs. Cody, the town librarian, gave this to old Farmer McGregor. It might explain about the pigs,” Carl finally said. “But I think it’s nonsense.” Alex stared up at his brother.

  “What’s nonsense? All it says is that green fog made the pigs scared, and something about strangers,” Alex said innocently.

  “Forget about it, it’s silly. I’m going to town for a few hours,” Carl said, likely because he couldn’t think of anything else to say. Then he whistled out the back door, and Alex heard his brother’s pickup truck drive away.

  Alex spent the rest of the night on his bed in the dark, staring at the ceiling.

  Green fog? Tall strangers? Awful voices?

  He fell asleep thinking his town was weird, and a little scary. He tried very hard NOT to think about a pile of green goo in the snow or the two weird voices in the darkness.

  Or Needles.

  Or The Other, whatever that was.

  He tossed and turned all night. If he’d looked outside, though, he would have seen two tall, dark figures at the edge of the forest, looking up at his window.

  An eerie green fog rolled around them as they watched. And waited.

  Chapter 8

  Boy Who Is Known as Alex

  The alarm buzzed: 7:06 a.m. Alex had to hurry to catch the school bus!

  When did I fall asleep? He dressed in the dark, headed down to the kitchen. His brother had left him a message on the table: Gone to McGregor’s to help with pigs again. Cereal for breakfast.

  Alex ate, packed a fast lunch, grabbed his boots and coat, and ran outside. It was 7:36. He was going to miss the bus! It was a cold morning, but bright. The trees waved and moaned in the forest, an eerie sound. A brisk wind swept over the frozen fields.

  He ran past the barn — he wanted to see if Needles was in there, but there was no time — and turned to jog down the lane. The bus was already there! For the first time ever, it was early. The school bus door was wide open, and someone got on!

  Someone with a long braid.

  “WAIT! Stop!” Alex ran as fast as he could toward the bus, but the driver shut the door. Alex stopped and stared, his warm breath puffing into the frozen air.

  The girl with the braid pushed her way down the school bus aisle. She dropped into a seat and looked out the window.

  She waved at him and smiled. A nasty smile, too.

  She didn’t look like a cat, anymore, which was a definite relief. But she looked weirdly familiar. Like him. A lot like him, if he were a girl, maybe.

  The bus lurched into gear and roared off down the road. Alex watched it disappear.

  Who is she? And what am I going to do now?

  With a moan, he realized his phone was still dead and in the house on the kitchen table. He could call Carl for a ride, but Carl was working on McGregor’s farm. Besides, he was as bad at charging his phone as Alex.

  Alex looked around the deserted, snowy road. His mountain bike in the tool shed! It would be a cold ride to school, but he could do it. He’d done it before, and at least he wouldn’t have to walk all the way. He thought about the horses and the sleigh under a tarp in the barn. Not so many years ago he could have hitched Pins up to the sleigh to get to school.

  But no one did that anymore.

  He took a few steps toward the tool shed.

  And stopped.

  Someone was watching him. He could feel their eyes on him. He tried not to turn arou
nd, but they were there. At the corner of his eye.

  Not one, but two someones. Two tall, dark figures stood across the road. They stood behind the trees, almost out of sight. They wore long overcoats and dark sunglasses. An eerie breeze picked up and danced snow across the trees.

  Alex’s heart beat hard as he walked, just a little faster, toward the shed. A strange, squealing voice cut across the wind.

  “Boy Who Is Known as Alex.” The voice made the hair on his neck stand up.

  “Have you seen The Other?” a second voice said.

  Alex kept walking, keeping one eye on them, one eye on the shed door. Three more steps … slowly … slowly …

  Two nights ago in the clearing, he hadn’t seen them that well.

  This was daytime. He could see them perfectly. They were tall. Too tall. They stood in the ditch, and they were still way above Alex’s head. And oddly skinny. Their overcoats looked wrong on their tall, slender bodies. They went right down to the ground, so you couldn’t see their feet. They’d jammed their hands into their pockets.

  Alex got the feeling they were hiding them.

  He slowly edged toward the shed, toward his bike. He turned his head.

  “What do you want?” he called, closer to his bike.

  “We seek The Other,” the first stranger said. Alex noticed they didn’t have steamy breath rising from them when they spoke, like he did. He gulped.

  “Beware The Other,” the second one added. The first stranger took a step out of the ditch and towered above him across the snowy road. A strange foot (if it WAS a foot) peeked out from beneath the long coat. It clattered on the ice.

  Clip. Clop.

  Alex bolted into the shed. He jumped on his bike and pedalled across the snowy driveway in a blur.

  He looked back over his shoulder once, when he made it to the road.

  What are they?

  The two figures stood and watched him ride away, their heads slightly tilted. They looked like curious dogs.

  One of them squealed, “We can help you, Boy Who Is Known as Alex.” And now Alex knew exactly what the strange voice sounded like: a squealing pig!

  If a pig ever took it into its head to talk.…

  He pedalled faster, but not fast enough. Above the roaring in his ears, he heard the second grunting, piggy voice squeal, “Boy Who Is Known as Alex, let us help you.”

  Alex put his head down and charged along the highway toward school.

  Chapter 9

  The Girl with the Braid

  Alex rode faster than he thought he could.

  That’s it! I’m definitely cracking up! Everything is WAY TOO weird! I need to tell someone what’s happening to me! I’m going to get Carl to make me an appointment with Dr. Philips this afternoon!

  He pulled his scarf over his nose, and it froze to his face. But he didn’t care. He barely felt the cold.

  He arrived at school half an hour late. He ran to his locker, changed into his shoes, and hung up his coat. He snuck past the principal’s office, and no one noticed. No teachers stopped him.

  The school was silent, and Alex slipped along the halls in a daze.

  He crept into the classroom behind the teacher, and she didn’t tell him to get a late slip. He walked down the aisle to his desk, and no one looked up.

  When he got to his seat, someone was already sitting there.

  The girl with the braid looked at him. Her pencil was poised over his math book.

  “Hi, Alex,” she said quietly. Alex stared at the girl.

  “What are you doing here? In my desk? Writing in my math book?”

  “Shhh,” the girl whispered, because the teacher was looking over at them. Alex stared at the girl. She wasn’t covered in fur like the day before. Her long braid didn’t sway back and forth, either. She was just a girl.

  A girl who, except for the braid, looked exactly like him.

  He looked at her for another moment, then pulled a chair from the back of the classroom. He sat at the desk with her. His desk.

  “Who are you, anyway? And why have you been waiting for the school bus at my stop?” he whispered. He made a grab for the math book, and she pulled it away.

  “Is it your stop, though?” She stared at him innocently …

  … then for a second her eyes shone bright green!

  Glowing-goo green.

  Alex’s eyes grew wide.

  “WHO ARE YOU?!” he shrieked, jumping up. His chair fell over.

  The teacher came down the aisle.

  “Is everything okay?” she asked. Alex was about to answer that this strange girl was sitting in his desk, obviously, but the girl answered first.

  “I’m sorry, I just dropped my pencil,” she said politely.

  The teacher smiled at the girl with the braid. “Okay, well try to drop your pencil more quietly next time, please, Alex,” she said and went back to the front of the class.

  Alex felt a scream start deep in his chest.

  The teacher said to please be quiet. But she didn’t ask them to be quiet.

  She asked the girl with the braid to be quiet. And when the teacher said, “Alex,” she wasn’t looking at him. The teacher was looking at her.

  But worse, far worse than all that, for a second, the teacher’s eyes had turned BRIGHT GREEN.

  Alex backed away from the girl with the braid.

  “Wh-at … what’s happening?”

  “Isn’t it obvious, Alex?” the girl answered. Very slowly, the girl’s braid began to sway, back and forth, back and forth. Alex stared, his mouth open in horror.

  The girl went on. “You’re basically invisible to most people in this town, aren’t you, Alex? You’re the perfect choice. You’re making this much too easy. Even your cat fought harder than you. I still can’t quite get rid of her tail.…”

  The girl’s braid swayed gently from side to side.

  “My … my cat ? Her tail ? What do you mean? What have you done to Needles?” His voice was a hoarse, terrified whisper. A terrible thought was forming, but he didn’t want to think it through to the end.

  I still can’t quite get rid of her tail.…

  The girl drew close to him. She pinned Alex up against the wall next to the desk, almost touching him. The rest of the class had their heads down, working quietly. No one noticed.

  “Don’t worry, your cat will be fine. She makes a wonderful host.”

  “Host? Please … please tell me what’s going on,” Alex begged. His heart pounded, his mouth was dry.…

  “You don’t seem stupid, but I guess I have to spell it out for you,” the girl hissed. She drew closer to him, nose-to-nose. The teacher, the students worked away, not noticing.

  If I called for help, would they even hear me?

  “Ever heard of an evil twin, Alex?” the girl whispered. “In German, they call it a doppelgänger.”

  “A … a what?”

  The girl narrowed her eyes. He had the oddest feeling that, just for a second, he was looking into his own eyes.

  “‘Beware The Other,’ Alex. You’ve heard that lately, haven’t you?”

  Alex nodded.

  “Yes, but … what IS it?” His voice was so low, he wasn’t sure she heard him. But she did. She grinned, a nasty grin.

  “Don’t I look awfully familiar, Alex? Don’t you feel like you’re almost looking at yourself when you look at me? Thanks for the apple yesterday, by the way. It’s just what I needed.”

  “Needed?” Alex whispered. “What do you mean? Needed?”

  At that second the bell rang. The class stood up. The girl turned away, and Alex reached out to stop her.

  “OWWWW!” His hand! His hand burned where he touched her arm!

  “Don’t try to grab me again, or you’ll be sorry,” she warned. Alex clutched his scorched hand
and stared at her.

  “But who are you? Please … please tell me!”

  The girl pulled in close and whispered softly in his ear. “Don’t you know by now, Alex? Why you should beware The Other?” Alex shook his head, and the girl grinned that nasty grin again.

  “Because I’M The Other,” she breathed.

  “Think of me as an ‘other’ you. A better you. First I was your cat. But thanks to your apple, minute by minute, now I’m becoming you. Soon, I’ll BE you. And you’ll be gone. You’re practically invisible already, though, aren’t you, Alex?”

  Then she tossed her head and turned away. The girl with the braid — The Other — left the classroom. She joined a group of kids and told a joke, and everyone laughed. No one seemed to realize they didn’t know this new girl. No one even asked who she was.

  As Alex watched in horror, clutching his burned hand, the girl and all his classmates turned to look at him.

  And for a second … all of their eyes burned bright green.

  Chapter 10

  The Other

  Alex shrieked. But no one heard him.

  I’ve gone completely crazy!

  He ran down the hallway behind his class and the girl with the braid.

  The Other Alex.

  “But you don’t even know her!” he yelled at his classmates, but no one listened. The kids in his class crowded around The Other Alex. They treated her like they’d known her forever. They wanted to sit with her. They wanted to be science partners. They wanted her to go to sleepovers that weekend.

  The real Alex stood at the door of the science room, his heart beating fast.

  “But you don’t even know her,” he called again, quieter. Still no one listened.

  The Other Alex sat at his desk. She picked up his sickly bean plant. She started her assignment — his assignment. When Mr. Timbert took attendance and called his name, she answered, “Here.”

  The class settled down to work. No one looked at him standing there at the door, not even once. If he didn’t feel invisible before, he did now. And he didn’t just feel invisible. To his class and his teachers, he really was.