The snow stopped at dawn. It piled up against the cabin in layers. Every bone in his body ached, but Alex got up. He rubbed his arms and legs to warm them. Then he crept through the snowy woods and hid at the edge of the forest.
Alex watched his house.
The kitchen door opened, and The Other Alex walked out into the snowy morning. Alex gasped. It was the strangest sensation, watching someone else being you.
The Other Alex had a backpack, a sleeping bag, a pillow. He was going to another sleepover. The Other Alex hopped into the pickup truck.
A moment later Carl came out of the house with a tool box. He put it in the back of the truck, then he and The Other drove off.
Alex’s house was empty.
The real Alex darted across the snowy yard, opened the back door, and stood in his quiet kitchen. His heart hammered in his chest, and the clock above the stove tick-tick-ticked away.
Weird that I feel like a thief in my own house.
He ran up to his bedroom. The Other Alex had made himself at home.
“He wore my pajamas!” Alex made a mental note never to wear that pair again. He grabbed a backpack, two huge sweaters, clean jeans, another T-shirt. Dry socks. His prized binoculars. He ran into the bathroom and grabbed his toothbrush, hoping The Other hadn’t used that, too — gross! — then slipped downstairs.
He opened the pantry door and stuffed cans of beans and soup into his backpack. He grabbed bottled water, orange juice, a small bag of apples. He made himself toast and peanut butter for breakfast and drank two glasses of apple juice. He was so happy to eat, to be warm, at least for a moment.
Then he stood at the top of the basement stairs.
He needed a sleeping bag and they were in the dark basement. He hesitated …
… WHAT’S THAT?
A pickup truck pulled into the driveway! He peeked out the kitchen window and saw Carl get out of his truck. He’d dropped off The Other Alex and was already back!
There was no way out!
Alex tiptoed as quickly as he could down the basement stairs in the dark. He stood at the bottom, clutching his backpack, then hid behind the furnace.
Carl came into the house, whistling. Alex heard him drop his keys onto the kitchen table. Carl opened the fridge. Whistled some more.
Then Carl turned on the basement light.
Then Carl started slowly down the stairs.
Whistling.
Alex stood frozen behind the furnace. He peeked for a second and saw Carl holding the heavy tool box.
Don’t find me. Don’t find me. Don’t find me. Stop whistling. Don’t find me.
Carl stopped at the bottom of the stairs. He cocked his head. He stopped whistling. He clutched the tool box. He listened.
Then he slowly turned and walked toward the furnace …
… Ding-dong!
The back doorbell rang.
“Hmph,” Carl said. He paused.
Ding-dong! The doorbell rang again.
Carl turned away from the furnace. He put the tool box on his workbench. Then he slowly climbed the stairs, whistling, and turned out the basement light.
Alex heard his brother open the back door.
“Yes?” Carl said to someone outside.
A strange voice said something that Alex couldn’t hear. But the voice was weirdly familiar. He’d definitely heard that raspy, squealy voice before!
The two tall strangers!
Carl said something in reply then shut the door. He stomped across the kitchen and up the stairs to the second floor. A few moments later, Alex heard the upstairs water turn on. Carl had gone upstairs for a shower!
Alex grabbed a sleeping bag, then he slipped up the basement stairs and out the back door.
He ran across the yard, through the woods to the cabin. He was in such a hurry, he didn’t notice the two tall strangers in overcoats and sunglasses hiding at the edge of the barn.
Watching.
Chapter 15
Snowshoes and Sleigh Bells
It was a long, cold weekend.
With the sleeping bag and dry clothes, Alex didn’t freeze. With the food, he didn’t starve. He wasn’t exactly comfortable, but he was still there.
Still the real Alex.
He had to think. He had to plan. But nothing came to him. How do you plan for something like this? A weird evil twin that turns up and replaces you?
He couldn’t vanish forever, though. He couldn’t allow himself to disappear. Needles might still be out there, and she needed him.
On Sunday afternoon, Alex crept out of the cabin. It had snowed more in the night, and now the snow was too deep to walk through. He stepped off the cabin porch and fell into snow up to his hip.
There were snowshoes in the barn.
He had to get them. So he struggled as quietly as he could through the woods back to his house. He stopped at the paddock and watched.
Carl’s pickup truck was gone.
Alex raced across the yard to the barn. He snuck inside and ran to the tack room. There was a sleigh for the horses, which they hadn’t used in years. There were old saddles and riding equipment and a box of tools and horseshoes.
A rack of old cross-country skis and snowshoes lined the wall. He reached up and pulled a smaller pair of snowshoes off a hook. He slung them over his shoulder and peeked in on Pins. He walked toward her, holding out his gloved hand.
She snorted and backed up in her stall. He moved closer.
“What’s wrong, Pins?” But the horse kept her distance. Alex moved a little closer, and she tossed her head and stamped her hoof. A warning: Keep away.
“Don’t you know me? It’s me, Alex!” But Pins did NOT know him. She didn’t know him at all. She snorted, tossed her head, and kicked the stall.
“SHHH! SHHH, Pins. It’s ME! Alex!” he whispered, but the horse kicked and snorted until he had no choice. He had to leave. As soon as he was gone, Pins settled down.
She doesn’t know me!
Alex darted across the yard, back to the edge of the woods. As he strapped on the snowshoes, a pickup truck pulled into the yard. He crouched behind a tree and watched.
Carl and The Other Alex got out.
“I can’t wait!” The Other Alex said.
“Okay, let’s go,” Carl answered. They walked into the barn. Alex-waiting-in-the-woods heard horses, voices, something big moving around.
What could that be?
Then the sleigh moved into the sunshine, with Pins and Minnie in the harness! Carl and The Other Alex sat in the high seat, covered by a bright red blanket. Carl handed the reins to The Other, then Carl and The Other Alex rode off into the snowy afternoon, the bells on the sleigh jingling softly.
I’ve never even been on that sleigh before!
With a bitter heart, the real Alex, the cold, scared, and hungry Alex, headed back into the woods, alone.
Chapter 16
Mirror, Mirror
Alex hid behind bushes at the side of the school. His snowshoes leaned against the window to the boy’s bathroom — his bathroom. It was Monday morning, and he’d woken up with the sun, then hiked through the snowy fields to school.
He finally had a plan.
The school bus — his school bus — pulled up, and a group of kids piled out, laughing and talking.
And he was in the middle of them. Or The Other Alex was, anyway.
The Other Alex walked into the school, surrounded by friends that the real Alex never had. Alex watched as his evil twin bragged to the other kids about the two sleepovers that weekend.
I don’t brag, the real Alex thought bitterly from his hiding spot.
Then everyone was inside the school and the bell rang. Alex looked around. The coast was clear. He slipped in the back door. He walked quickly along the halls.
A few teachers walked past, but no one saw him.
Alex heard a basketball game going on in the gym. He crept to the door, and peeked in …
… just in time to see The Other Alex score a three-point shot that made everyone stop. Then the team ran over and high-fived The Other Alex.
He really is amazing at basketball. Or is it me who’s amazing at basketball? Is he only good at it because I am?
The real Alex felt dizzy. It was so strange to see himself playing basketball that he had to turn away. He couldn’t think about it too hard or he might lose sight of what he was doing. Why he was there. He slipped past the principal’s office, then past the lunchroom and down the stairs to the basement.
As he’d lain in the cabin the night before, he had realized he had to talk to someone. He couldn’t do this alone, and the only — well not person exactly, but voice — that had made any sense in the past few days was his reflection in the bathroom mirror.
Not much to go on, he knew. But he had to start somewhere.
He stepped into the technically off-limits boy’s bathroom.
Empty.
I’m sneaking into my school to talk to myself. To try to figure out how to stop my evil twin from taking over my life. Even I can see how crazy this is. So … does that mean I’m not crazy? If what I’m doing seems crazy?
He stood in front of the mirror and looked at himself. He really didn’t look too good. He was dirty, for one thing. The cabin didn’t exactly have a shower in it. And he looked thin and dark, like a wild dog.
But there was something more. He almost looked like he wasn’t really there. He looked flimsy. Missing in action.
He took a deep breath. And spoke to the boy looking back at him.
“Hey. Alex. Um. It’s me. I’m wondering if you can give me some advice?”
His own face looked back at him. He stuck out his tongue, and his reflection did the same thing. He made a face. So did his reflection. He winked at himself.
His reflection winked back.
“Are you still in there, Alex?” he asked. His voice was shaky. He was so tired. And cold. And he really felt … alone. And scared. Definitely scared.
What if he really was disappearing for good? Both outside and inside the mirror?
“I hope so, because I really need you right now. I can’t tell anyone else what’s going on, it’s too crazy. I’m not even sure what’s real and what isn’t. Please be in there.” Alex stared at the boy’s face in the mirror. His face.
“If you’re not in there, then I have no one left to talk to.” Alex looked at his sad face ...
… then the boy in the mirror grinned.
“Well, talking to yourself definitely isn’t a great sign,” his reflection teased. “But asking yourself if you’re crazy probably is. Would a truly crazy person ask if he was crazy?” Alex stared at himself, and his reflection crossed his arms.
“Get a grip, Alex. Yes, I’m still in here. Who else would be reflecting back at you in a mirror? So, you’re wondering what you should do to get your life back, is that it?” Alex-outside-the-mirror nodded. He’d never felt so mixed up. Or so alone.
“What am I going to do?” he asked himself.
Alex’s reflection was much wiser and calmer than he was. If that was even possible.
Which it really wasn’t.
“Well, I’d like to say that I’ll come to the rescue, but I’m just a reflection. I’m afraid you’ll have to save us,” Alex-inside-the-mirror said.
“Obviously,” Alex answered himself.
“But I CAN tell you something that you need to hear,” his reflection added.
“Okay, what? Get to the point, would you?” Alex-outside-the-mirror was losing patience. He was tired, hungry, cold, and all alone in the world. Plus he was talking to himself in a haunted mirror.
Not one of those things was terribly pleasant. His reflection pulled up close to him, nose-to-nose on the other side of the glass.
“You need help, Alex. You have to trust someone and tell them what’s happening,” his reflection whispered.
“I came all this way, on SNOWSHOES, for you to tell me THAT?” Alex was getting mad. “I know that! Why do you think I’m here talking to you! Even if you ARE in a haunted mirror!” he shouted. His reflection raised his eyebrows.
“Haunted? Really? Is THAT what people say about it?”
Alex-outside-the-mirror nodded. “Yes. Well … is it?”
Alex-inside-the-mirror laughed. “I’m pretty sure it’s just me in here! At least no one else has turned up yet. I’ll let you know if anyone does, though!” His reflection rolled his eyes and smiled. He looked so brave. So wise. Alex wondered if he could ever look like that.
But he’s me, really. Isn’t he?
His reflection went on. “Look, kid-with-an-evil-twin, you’re losing the battle here. The Other Alex is now basically you. He’s up there with your face and body, playing basketball with your name. He’s living in your house. Your family think he’s you. Even your horse doesn’t know who you are anymore. You can’t do this alone. Tell someone. But tell the RIGHT someone. You already tried your classmates, your teachers, Dr. Philips, and Mrs. Finkman, and you know how well that turned out.”
His reflection looked cleaner than Alex-outside-the-mirror. And more confident. Better fed. Happier somehow. Which was annoying.
“So who has offered to help you? Anyone come to mind?” His reflection looked at his fingernails and brushed them on his chest.
Alex thought. The words “Boy Who Is Known as Alex” popped into his head. In a strange, piggy voice.
“Only one person. Well, two, I guess. If they are people. Which I’m not sure about. I’m not even sure they’re real or if I imagined them.”
His reflection pointed a finger at him. “Am I real? But you’re still here talking to me, aren’t you? You have to get help where it’s offered sometimes, Alex, my friend. Just pick wisely. And don’t stop asking for help until someone actually helps you. That’s my advice for the day. Good luck!” Then his reflection winked at him.
And stuck out his tongue.
The next second Alex was looking at himself again. His tear-stained, dirty, frightened face. But there was something different about him, too.
There was a wise voice in the mirror and in his head.
And it seemed to know what to do.
Alex was about to say goodbye when the bathroom door opened. Alex almost jumped out of his skin. The young janitor’s friendly face appeared.
“You know, you probably shouldn’t talk to yourself all alone in a haunted bathroom mirror. Not a great idea,” the janitor said pleasantly. “People will begin to worry about you.” He propped the bathroom door open with his foot. He took a long look at Alex.
“Are you okay, kid? You really look …”
Please don’t say invisible.…
“… like you could use a friend. And don’t tell me you weren’t talking to yourself in here, because I heard you. Unless, of course, your reflection is talking to you.” The janitor rubbed his hand on his coveralls.
“Name’s Jim. What’s yours?” Jim held Alex’s gaze and offered his hand. There was nothing Alex could do but shake it.
“Alex,” he mumbled. He looked at Jim. No glowing-green-goo eyes, just nice brown ones. After the fear and isolation of the past few days, shaking Jim’s warm hand felt almost too normal. Like Alex had no right to be doing it.
“Nice to meet you, Alex. Now out you go!” Jim shooed Alex out of the bathroom. He watched the boy disappear down the hall.
“That boy really does need a friend,” the janitor said to himself. Then he went back to his mop and bucket.
Chapter 17
Pig Who Is Known as Bella
Moonlight pierced the clouds and shone on the floor of the cabin. Alex stared out the window at the br
ight silver sky.
His reflection had said, Tell someone. But tell the RIGHT someone.
Great advice, he thought. But who’s that?
Mr. Timbert, Mrs. Finkman, Dr. Philips, his brother, his mother, his father, his classmates, even the lady in the principal’s office. No one could help him.
He looked at the dark night, the silver stars. He’d never felt so alone.
Suddenly a green light flashed outside in the sky. Then disappeared!
What’s that?
Alex ran outside. The silver moon shone on the snow and the stars burned bright in the dark winter sky. He turned his binoculars to the heavens, scanned left, then right, then zipped his binoculars back to the right again. There.
The green light again!
A green, misty light formed and swirled gently above the trees near McGregor’s farm.
He looked for a long time. The smoke — or whatever it was — was definitely there. And it was green.
Everything had started with the green goo in the clearing the night that Needles vanished. The strangers had stood in a weird green swirling smoke. Or was it fog? Carl’s photocopy of the newspaper from Mrs. Cody talked about green fog patches in 1907.
And here was a swirly green mist.
Alex looked a moment longer, then made up his mind. He slipped into his snowshoes and crept across the clearing. The moon turned the field and forest silver and black, casting a perfect shadow of the boy sneaking along. Alex raised his binoculars, spying the trees above the McGregor farm in the distance.
The green fog came and went. He tried not to think about tall strangers in overcoats.
Or The Other.
Alex got closer to the McGregor farm. At the edge of the forest, he was wary, quiet, willing his snowshoes to fall softly. A strange wind waved the tree branches and danced snow all around him. He crept around the barn and heard the old horse shift uneasily inside. The McGregor farmhouse was dark. Alex stopped, hidden in the shadows.
And watched.
The green fog came from the pig shed. Across the barnyard he could see a large pig, out of the wind, curled up and cozy in her straw bed. A brand new fence bristled in front of her. That’s what Carl must have been doing, helping Mr. McGregor build the fence, Alex thought.
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