Alex and The Other

by Dowding, Philippa;

  The fog swirled and grew around the pig, then fell away. Then grew again.

  In the darkness and shadow at the edge of the pig shed, a movement. A tall, dark figure reached up and adjusted sunglasses. Another tall, dark figure stood motionless beside it.

  A weird, raspy voice came from the darkness.

  “Pig Who Is Known as Bella, have you seen The Other?” the strange voice said. Alex tried not to gasp.

  A grunting, squealing voice answered, “You ask that night after night. You know that I haven’t.” It came from McGregor’s old sow, the mother pig to all the piglets in the pen. Alex stared in horror. The hair on the back of his neck slowly stood straight up.

  Did that pig really just say that?

  “Pig Who Is Known as Bella, we must find The Other,” the second voice said. The green fog rose above the shed and into the trees whenever anyone, or anything, spoke.

  Pig Who Is Known as Bella snorted. “I haven’t seen her — The Other, if that’s what you’re calling her — since she fell from the sky and crashed into the woods the day you all arrived.” Behind the barn, Alex opened and closed his eyes, shook his head. He pinched his arm as hard as he could. He bit his lip until it hurt.

  Somehow, weird just got weirder.

  Fell from the sky?

  “Pig Who Is Known as Bella, we must find The Other.” The tall figures swayed by the pig shed, hands jammed deeply into overcoat pockets. The green fog swirled. The moon shone down on the weird scene.

  The pig grunted. Then her voice got especially squealy. “IF I see this Other creature, of course I’ll tell you. I do WANT my piglets back, you know. My poor babies. You stole them to turn into whatever it is you are.” The tall strangers shuffled in the barnyard.

  Clip clop. Their feet — hooves? — clattered on the icy ground.

  “Borrowed, Pig Who Is Known as Bella. We borrowed their bodies to take this form. Your piglets are fine. We will return them unharmed when we capture The Other.”

  The old sow curled deeper into her straw, her remaining mostly grown piglets huddled close to their warm mother. “I do hope so,” she snorted. “But you really should have asked.”

  Alex slowly lowered his binoculars. The moon broke through clouds and shone down on the pig shed.

  “No wonder you can’t find this Other. You’re not very observant, are you?” she said a moment later. “There’s a boy hiding over there beside the barn.”

  Alex gasped.

  The pig and her piglets, the strangers, all turned slowly and looked at him.

  The first stranger snatched off its sunglasses.

  Green rays shot from the stranger’s eyes and raced across the barnyard toward Alex.

  Alex was too scared to move.

  Squealed words rasped into the night: “Are you The Other?”

  The green ray wrapped firmly around Alex like a giant squid tentacle. It held him and plucked him up into the air. Alex didn’t struggle.

  Why struggle? What was the point?

  The green ray gently carried Alex across the barnyard and placed him on the ground in front of the pigpen. Then the stranger put the sunglasses on again, and the green ray vanished. The fog blew around them, the moon shone, and all was silence.

  The pig, her piglets, and the tall stran­gers looked at Alex. He looked back at them and thought, This would be difficult to describe to anyone. Even if I wanted to. Which I don’t. And I hope I never do.

  What did it matter, anyway, what happened to him? He couldn’t be in any more trouble than he was now. His evil twin, The Other, had taken over his life. If his only hope was weird, much-too-tall-strangers with green eye-rays and a talking pig, he’d have to accept it. His reflection in the bathroom mirror had told him that much.

  Mrs. Finkman’s face flashed into his mind for a moment, too. “Let them help you,” she’d said at the pharmacy door. He suddenly realized she might have actually meant it.

  He took a long, steadying breath. Then he spoke.

  “I’m not The Other. I’m Alex. The real Alex.” The wind whistled past, the green fog blew. The assembled creatures, earthly and otherwise, stared at him. He went on.…

  “But I DO know where The Other is. And … I need your help.”

  Chapter 18

  Alex-the-(Creepy)-Amazing

  I ’m a hero!

  Alex strutted down the hallway. Students high-fived him. Teachers high-fived him. Even the principal stopped to adore him.

  “Well done, Alex. You’ve made Rosewood Public School very proud today,” he said. And high-fived him. Alex nodded and smiled, taking it all in stride.

  Everyone loved him, and why shouldn’t they?

  Their school won the basketball tournament because of him.

  And that meant their school was hosting the quarter-finals the next day. If they won that, they went on to the semifinals, then who knew how far they could go? They could win the division!

  Alex strolled into music class and sat at the drums. The day before, the teacher had decided that Bertram (Ram for short) wasn’t as good as Alex at the drums. Ram stood at the triangle and looked sad.

  Everyone told Alex he was great.

  And, like most imposters, he believed them.

  In fact, his greatness blinded him.

  Which was why, as he played the drums, he didn’t notice the almost-invisible boy that looked exactly like him creep past the open door of the music room. He didn’t see the invisible boy stop across the hall in front of his locker and pull a note out of his coat. Alex-the-(Creepy)-Amazing didn’t see the boy open the locker and put the note inside. He didn’t see the invisible boy slide away, back out into the snowy day.

  No, Alex-the-(Creepy)-Amazing didn’t see any of that. He saw only adoring fans as they listened to him play the drums. Because on top of everything else that made him so amazing, he was also a rock star. Everyone said so.

  After music class, Alex-the-(Creepy)-Amazing high-fived his way to his locker. He stopped, opened it … and a note fluttered to his feet.

  He read it: If you want to see how great you can REALLY be, meet me in the haunted bathroom at lunch tomorrow.

  There was no signature. He frowned, stuck the note in his pocket, closed his locker, and walked down the hall.

  More people adored him, calling out congratulations.

  And they were right to. He was so great.

  When Alex-the-(Creepy)-Amazing went outside, Carl was waiting in his pickup truck.

  “Hey, Alex! Way to go! I heard about the basketball tournament,” Carl said as his little brother got in the truck.

  “Yeah, I’m pretty great. What’s for dinner?”

  “Oh, your favourite, of course. Whatever you want.”

  “What’s my favourite dinner, Carl?” Alex-the-(Creepy)-Amazing looked at his brother and watched Carl’s eyes turn bright green. Just for a second.

  “Your favourite dinner is … I can’t pronounce it.” Carl looked puzzled. And his little brother smiled. A nasty smile, too.

  “Don’t worry, big brother, I can tell you how to make it. It’s kind of a specialty, not from around here.” Alex-the-(Creepy)-Amazing looked out the window. He sighed. It was all too easy. Carl was so simple — it wasn’t hard to get his older brother to think and do whatever he wanted.

  His mother and father might be a bit harder to train, though, whenever they returned from Australia, or wherever it was. But they’d come around.

  He was thinking about all the things he was going to do in the coming days. Riding, teaching Carl how to make his favourite food, charming everyone at school, playing the drums, being the captain of the Rosewood Public School basketball team.

  It wasn’t that hard to hide in this body, in this life. It was easy.

  Almost too easy, in fact. Practically dull. This boy, this town, this school.
Not much of a challenge at all.

  Alex-the-(Creepy)-Amazing sighed. It was almost boring to be so amazing.

  And there was no one to stop him.

  Chapter 19

  A Real reflection

  The next day, the real Alex stood in the haunted bathroom.

  It was lunch. High noon. Showtime.

  He clutched the sink and stared into the mirror. But the only person looking back at him … was him.

  “Are you in there?” he whispered. But his own face whispered back. His smart, confident reflection wasn’t in there.

  “Come on, quit it. I need you here, now!” Alex was desperate. The Other Alex was going to turn up any second. And his reflection was just him. Shy, quiet, and invisible him. He was about to shout at himself when the door opened.

  The Other Alex walked into the bathroom.

  He looked cheerful. He looked confident. He looked like the real Alex, only much better. Clean and fed, for one thing. He wore a Rosewood Public School purple basketball jersey and gym shorts. A dark green “C” was stitched to the chest.

  The “C” was for Captain.

  “Oh, honestly, are you still here?” The Other Alex said when he saw the real Alex standing there. He looked genuinely annoyed. “I thought you disappeared days ago,” he added.

  The real Alex couldn’t help feeling grubby and powerless next to The Other Alex.

  But I’m NOT powerless, he thought. The tall strangers told me what to do. I can do this. I wish my reflection was here to help, though.

  He took a deep breath.

  “I’m still here,” the real Alex said quietly.

  The Other Alex looked bored and crossed his arms. “Well, you won’t be here much longer. You’ve faded to practically nothing. Just look at you,” The Other Alex said with a nasty smile.

  I never smiled like that, Alex thought. I’m much nicer than you are.

  “You haven’t won,” the real Alex said quietly. His heart pounded, and he was sure that he sounded puny and scared.

  The Other Alex grinned that nasty smile. “Look, Mr. Invisible, I have a basketball tournament to win this afternoon. Why don’t you just fade away now, like you’re supposed to? No one cares about you.”

  Alex looked at his evil twin, so self-assured. He wanted just a tiny bit of that self-assurance. Maybe without the nastiness, though.

  He thought about the tall strangers. They were counting on him. He thought about his horse, his beautiful cat, even his mother and father and Carl. They were worth fighting for, too.

  “I’m not invisible. I’m right here. And I want my life back.” Alex took a step toward The Other Alex.

  “Don’t come any closer,” The Other warned. “Remember what happened last time? You don’t want another burn, do you?”

  Then it happened.

  “You’re a fraud, my friend,” came a strong voice from the mirror.

  Alex’s reflection sprang to life, pointing one finger out of the mirror at The Other. “You’re a fake,” Alex’s reflection said. “You’re not really us. Why don’t you come over to the mirror and show yourself. Show us who you really are?” he taunted.

  The real Alex had the strangest feeling. Here he was, face to face with himself. Twice.

  On his left was The Other Alex, in basketball shorts and a team jersey.

  And on his right was his reflection, being brave in the mirror.

  And somewhere between them was him. The real him. Whoever that was.

  If this is what it’s like to be a triplet, count me out, thought Alex (the real one, and pos­sibly his reflection, too).

  “Come over to the mirror, show us who you really are,” his reflection taunted again.

  But The Other Alex didn’t budge.

  “I’ve won. You’ve lost. Now I have to go, people are waiting for me.”

  The Other moved toward the door. It was now or never.

  The real Alex pounced. He grabbed The Other Alex by the arm. His hand was on fire where he grabbed his evil twin, but he didn’t care. He held on, and The Other turned to fight.

  There was no being invisible now.

  “No one even sees you! I’m better than you in every way!” The Other Alex shrieked. He tried to pull away, but Alex (the real one), dragged his evil twin in front of the mirror …

  … and tried not to faint.

  The thing in the mirror! The Other’s reflection!

  The real Alex would never forget it, not for as long as he lived. Two huge green eyes popped out above a slash of dark mouth. Long arms ended in white, fingerless blobs. Long legs stood on fleshless, rootlike toes.

  The Other Alex wasn’t Alex at all.

  The Other Alex wasn’t even human.

  The real Alex held on tight while his evil twin shrieked, and squirmed, and moaned in the mirror. Alex’s reflection looked suitably horrified. He shouted encouragement from inside the mirror.

  “Don’t let go! Hold him, Alex!”

  “The strangers told me what you really are,” Alex said, straining to hold The Other steady in front of the mirror. “You’re an escaped criminal, a creature from another place, an … alien! That burned green blob in the clearing, the day this all started? That was your ship! The tall strangers tried to catch you, but you crashed there and escaped.”

  The Other moaned and wriggled in Alex’s grip. “And you’re nothing like me,” the real Alex went on. “You’re cruel, heartless, even your smile is nasty. You don’t have my thoughts, my kindness, you don’t know what I’m thinking. You’re nothing but a fake!” He was shouting now.

  “I’m the REAL ME!” Alex yelled.

  The Other squirmed and moaned. As Alex held on, his hands on fire, it finally came to him. What The Other Alex could never take from him.

  The thing that made him … him. His unique thoughts. Whatever he thought each moment, however he looked at the world, it was HIS way of thinking. HIS way of looking. He loved the snow. He loved the forest. He loved basketball, and math, and horses.

  And Needles.

  Even if he was a lonely boy, with only a cat for a best friend, the evil twin couldn’t be inside his head.

  Or his heart.

  “You’ll never be me,” Alex whispered.

  Alex held the creature in front of the mirror. It wasn’t easy. The Other wanted to live.

  But so did Alex.

  Just a little longer. One full minute. That’s what the tall strangers had said: Hold The Other in front of the mirror for one full minute.…

  “You can go now,” the real Alex whispered. Tears streamed down his face, and his hands were blistered. He was going to die of the pain.

  Suddenly the real Alex held on to … air. On to nothing.

  What the heck?

  The purple basketball jersey lay on the floor. Empty.

  No, not empty.

  There on the tile floor, beside the basketball trunks and jersey, lay a small, twisted creature. A blob of green and white that grew and shrank, like a heartbeat. Two green eyes bulged out at the side of the blob, and it looked more like a deep-sea creature — a squid maybe — than a scary evil twin.

  Alex’s reflection came close to the mirror and peeked down at the pulsing thing on the floor. “You did it,” Alex’s reflection whispered.

  The thing on the floor writhed and jerked, then lay still.

  “You killed The Other,” Alex’s reflection whispered, impressed. Alex shook his head.

  “No, it’s not dead. The tall strangers said it’s just dormant, sleeping, but not for long.”

  “What should we do with it?” his reflection asked.

  Alex pulled an empty sandwich bag from his backpack. He gingerly reached down and picked the blob off the floor, careful not to let any of it touch him.

  “Gross,” Alex breathed.
<
br />   “No kidding,” his reflection added.

  Alex zipped the sandwich bag closed and carefully put it in his backpack. The Other, in its real form, looked and felt exactly like a bag of slimy noodles. The tall strangers wanted what was left of The Other, even if it was just sleeping, and they wanted it fast, that night. Alex didn’t ask why.

  But he had no idea it would be so revolting.

  Alex looked at himself in the mirror. He and his reflection.

  The boy winked at him.

  Alex was about to say something else, thank you probably, but the bathroom door burst open. Jim the janitor stuck his head in the room.

  “There you are! The whole school is looking for you, Alex! They need their captain for the basketball tournament! Shouldn’t you be going?”

  Alex looked at the janitor for a moment, then at his reflection (who was doing a very good impression of being just a reflection). Alex reached down and picked up the basketball jersey from the floor. He looked at it, then slowly nodded.

  “Yes. Yes, I guess I should,” he said quietly.

  Jim watched Alex run up the stairs, two at a time. Then the kind janitor turned and mopped the bathroom floor, which for some reason needed a good cleaning.

  Chapter 20

  The Gift

  Alex stood in the cold early evening. The sun was going down over the treetops.

  His basketball team won the quarter-finals. His teammates high-fived him and told him he was the best captain they ever had. He got invited for dinner at three different places, but he smiled, thanked everyone, and walked home.

  He could get used to being popular tomorrow.

  He still had the disgusting sandwich bag with his sleeping evil twin in his backpack. He felt queasy knowing it was there. He couldn’t wait to get rid of it.

  The tall strangers wanted him to bring it to the clearing.

  He was here.