Lost and Found

by Mark Elliott

  So after his parents left for work, Jay stomped back into the house. He went up to his room and stuffed some things into his backpack, along with the lunch his mom had made for him—some money, his Cubs hat, an extra T-shirt, an extra pair of socks.

  Then he went downstairs and back through the living room, turning off the lights as he went. Jay walked out the kitchen door, slamming it behind him.

  And he didn’t look back.

  CHAPTER 24

  THE REAL JAY GRAYSON

  When he left home on that warm Wednesday morning in September, did Jay Grayson head for the bus station in downtown Cleveland? Did he start walking toward Interstate 480 so he could hitch a ride somewhere, anywhere? Or did he set out walking straight west, just hiking toward his grandparents’ farm in Indiana?

  Standing at the end of his driveway with his backpack on, all those ideas certainly ran through his mind.

  But Jay had already chosen a different destination.

  Eleven and a half minutes later, Jay checked himself in at the office of Taft Elementary School. And when the secretary gave him a confused look and asked him his name, he said, “Jay Grayson.” Because that’s who he was. The real Jay Grayson. And the real Jay Grayson was given an unexcused tardy slip to take to his first-period teacher.

  So Jay went to math class.

  Walking toward Mrs. Pell’s room, Jay knew what he was going to do. Because he was going to walk right into that room, walk right over to where Ray was sitting, and in a voice loud enough for everyone to hear, he was going to say, “My name is Jay Grayson, and you’re sitting in my seat. So move it. Now.”

  Because Jay was ready for the big scene. In front of Julie. In front of everyone. And all the kids would be amazed to see both of them, identical twins. Even the kids who already knew were going to be amazed. There would be a burst of confusion. And then the principal would be called in. And that would be the end of it, the end of the pretending. And whatever happened after that? Jay didn’t care. Not one bit. Let it happen.

  So it was a huge disappointment for Jay when he arrived at math class and discovered that his seat was empty—no Ray. He gave Mrs. Pell his tardy slip and sat down, and thirty seconds later the teacher asked him to go to the chalkboard and demonstrate how to find the greatest common factor of 128 and 42. So Jay had no choice but to jump into the stream of the math class and go with the flow.

  But when Ray came back to math from wherever he was at the moment? Then there was going to be a scene. The big one. And Jay was ready.

  Except Jay didn’t know that as he was leaving home to walk to school, Ray and Mrs. Cardiff and Mrs. Lonsdale were getting into a car in the school parking lot.

  And Jay also did not know that two minutes after he had checked in tardy at the office, the school secretary had phoned the principal, and in a puzzled tone of voice said, “Mrs. Lonsdale? I’m sorry to interrupt you, but that boy you and Mrs. Cardiff just drove away with? He’s back here at school, right now. And—and I just wanted you to know that.”

  And that phone call was why the principal and the school nurse walked back into the school ten minutes after Jay did, followed by Mr. and Mrs. Grayson and their son Ray.

  And two minutes after that, the intercom speaker in the sixth-grade math room hummed and then crackled with static, and the school secretary’s voice said, “Mrs. Pell?”

  “Yes?”

  “Please send Jay Grayson to the office right away.”

  And one and a half minutes later, when Jay appeared at the desk in the main office, the secretary looked at him, then squinted, and looked again. And then she pointed toward the door of the principal’s office and said, “Go right in.”

  So Jay opened the door and went in.

  CHAPTER 25

  DISCORD, UNISON, HARMONY

  The principal’s office was small. As Jay arrived, the population of the little room rose to six: two school people, two parents, and a pair of twins. There were chairs for everyone, and the extra furniture made the room feel that much smaller.

  Jay sat in the only empty seat, right next to Ray, and as he did, he glanced sideways. He knew from the look on his brother’s face that things had already been unpleasant. Their chairs were jammed together, so as they sat there, straight and still, Jay’s right arm was touching Ray’s left. And immediately Ray gave him a tiny nudge. Jay replied by flexing a muscle, a signal so small that no one else knew it happened. But the twins had opened a line of communication. Jay’s anger was still fresh in his mind, but this was bigger than that. They were in this thing together, and their contact gave each of them some comfort. Which did not last long.

  The principal cleared her throat and looked around quickly from face to face. “Well, now that we’re all here, I’d like to begin by saying that Mrs. Cardiff and I and the whole staff at Taft Elementary School are very distressed that this situation has . . . happened. I’ve been principal here for nine years, and I taught math here for seven years before that, and we’ve never had anything like this . . . happen. Before.”

  Mrs. Cardiff quickly added, “Of course, we’re very glad that this situation hasn’t resulted in any mishaps to either of your sons, because that’s our first concern, always. We want every child to be safe and cared for. And supervised. And we take that responsibility very seriously.”

  The principal nodded at the nurse’s comments and went on. “Now, of course, we’ll need to contact the school your sons attended in Colorado to be certain that the student files they sent here were complete. Because the way the information was transmitted to us was confusing, to say the least. And our school district will be reviewing all of our new student registration procedures to be certain that nothing like this can ever happen again.”

  Mrs. Lonsdale stopped and cleared her throat, and after glancing at Ray and Jay, she said, “And, we’ll also have to determine the appropriate . . . consequences. For the boys. For skipping several days of school. And that will be settled after I talk to the superintendent. Because we may be looking at a suspension . . . or rather, suspensions.”

  As the principal said that word, Jay and Ray felt a tremor as each of them flinched. A suspension was a bad thing. A blot on a school record. Permanent.

  “You plan to talk to the superintendent?” Mr. Grayson asked. “Because won’t that sort of be making this whole thing public? Wouldn’t it make just as much sense to handle this yourself, right here at the school?”

  The principal said, “We’ve had a serious incident here, so the consequences need to be serious as well. That just stands to reason.”

  Mrs. Grayson nodded and said, “We agree, Mrs. Lonsdale, but I think I can explain what my husband means. You see, we both work for an insurance company. I’m a claims analyst—looking at situations, determining if there might have been any fraud, any dishonesty, anything unusual. And my husband is a claims adjuster, the person who goes out and talks with the people involved. He’s sort of an investigator. So I think he’s asking if there’s a way to keep this from becoming more difficult than it already is.”

  Mr. Grayson nodded. “Because, I mean, can’t you imagine the headlines in the local newspaper? ‘School Loses Sixth Grader for a Week’—that couldn’t be good, not for the school or for our family.”

  Jay felt a definite nudge from Ray, then a steady pressure against his arm as their dad kept talking. And Jay nudged back. And those nudges meant, Are you hearing what I’m hearing? Because it sounds like Dad is on the attack—defending us!

  Turning toward the nurse, Mr. Grayson went on, “You mentioned that you’re glad neither of the boys had a mishap. My wife and I are glad about that too. We’re very glad the boys are safe, and we’re also glad that no lawyers need to get involved. In this situation.”

  The principal narrowed her eyes and said, “I’m still not sure I understand exactly what you’re saying, Mr. Grayson.”

  Jay wasn’t sure either. And neither was Ray.

  Because the boys had never heard their paren
ts talking to other grown-ups so seriously. Or maybe they just hadn’t listened much before. But they were certainly listening now, each of them sitting still, barely breathing. Except now, they were practically elbowing each other to punctuate the points being made by both sides. Because it was clear that there were sides now. This was starting to feel like a battle.

  Mr. Grayson looked the principal straight in the eye and said, “What I’m saying is, that I am hoping that you will leave the disciplinary consequences for our boys up to their mother and me. They lied and they skipped school—both bad things, and they will be punished. At home. I can guarantee that. But here at school, I really think it would be best for our sons if they could simply get on with their work. To get past this . . . incident. Quickly. Starting today.”

  The principal frowned and said, “But they’ve broken so many rules that—”

  Mr. Grayson interrupted, “Yes, but as I see it, Ray and Jay’s previous school did send your school information about each boy, two files—correct?” Mrs. Lonsdale nodded, and Mr. Grayson said, “And your school lost one of those files by mistake. One student, lost—correct?” Again the principal nodded. And sounding more and more like a prosecutor in a courtroom, Mr. Grayson said, “It was certainly wrong for the boys to take advantage of that. However—and this is my main point—it was the school’s mistake that allowed this situation to develop in the first place. Someone might even call the school’s mistake negligence. But negligence is such an unpleasant term. A legal term. So I think we should just call this whole thing a mistake, and move on.”

  Jay raised his hand.

  All eyes turned to him, and the nurse said, “Yes, Ray?”

  And Jay said, “I’m Jay.”

  And the nurse said, “Right—sorry. Ray’s the one with the bruise on his face. Do you have something to add, Jay?” Mrs. Cardiff was glad for this interruption, because the exchange between Mr. Grayson and the principal was getting a bit too heated, and by the look in Mrs. Lonsdale’s eye, it was about to burst into flames.

  Jay was feeling the heat too, feeling responsible for this giant mess. He nodded at the nurse. “I just want to say that this was all my idea. I wanted to see what it would be like to be at school without being a twin for a while. And I’m really sorry. The whole thing was my idea—so I’m the one who should be in trouble.”

  Ray shook his head and said, “I went along with all of it. So it’s my fault too. And I’m just as sorry as you are. And I should get punished just as much too. So stop trying to make everything be all about you, okay?”

  And instantly, instinctively, Jay hauled back and punched Ray on the shoulder. Hard.

  Which made the nurse gasp.

  And which made Mrs. Grayson shout, “Jay! You stop that!”

  But all the anger Jay had been feeling just a half hour earlier came rushing back, and he blurted out, “You don’t even know if I’m Jay or not, Mom. Nobody does. Except him,” he said, jerking his thumb at Ray. “And nobody cares who we really are, either one of us. We’re just ‘the twins.’ And I’m sick of it.”

  Mrs. Grayson’s eyes brimmed with tears. “Why, of course we care who you are, sweetheart, both of you. And we know who you are . . . we do.”

  “Oh yeah?” Jay snapped. “When I stayed home last Thursday, did you know it was me and not Ray? No. And when we went to the mall on Friday, I was wearing Ray’s sweatshirt and sunglasses and hat. That was me. And you never knew a thing. And if Ray hadn’t goofed up on Saturday, I would have gone skating too, and you never would have guessed it was me. You never know who we are for sure, either of you—unless you do the freckle-check.”

  Mrs. Cardiff said, “The freckle-check?”

  Mr. Grayson nodded. “Ray’s got a freckle on his right ankle.”

  And Mrs. Cardiff made a mental note of that possibly useful bit of information.

  The small office got quiet as Mrs. Grayson dabbed at her eyes with the tissue the principal handed her. And the angry feelings the adults had been starting to express began to drain out of the room, replaced by concern for these boys. And also curiosity.

  Because this glimpse into the land of twins was completely new for Mrs. Cardiff and Mrs. Lonsdale. And Ray and Jay’s parents were getting some fresh views as well.

  Mrs. Cardiff felt it was time to step in as a mediator, one of her strong points. She smiled at Jay and then Ray. “What I’m hearing is that what you two did was a way to deal with this problem of being constantly mistaken for each other, of feeling like you’re always overshadowed by each other. Is that right?”

  Both boys nodded, and Jay said, “Yeah, like, forever.”

  “But you both see that the way you chose to behave wasn’t helpful, or honest? Right?” the nurse asked.

  Again both boys nodded.

  Mrs. Cardiff continued, “Well, this problem isn’t really going to go away, no matter what we do. It’s something each of you have to learn to deal with as best you can. You can see that, right? I’m sure you can. But there might be some ways the school could help. Can you think of any?”

  Jay spoke up immediately. “Could I be in a different homeroom?”

  And Ray nodded. “Yeah. That would be good.”

  The principal said, “We can make that happen right away. And I don’t see why we can’t try to put you into as many different classes as possible. How about that?”

  More nodding, with the parents joining in as well.

  Mrs. Cardiff paused, because she really wanted to get this next part right. And she didn’t want to sound like a nurse, or a teacher, or even like a parent. She wanted to sound like a friend. She looked into each face and said, “But you know, boys, if this problem is going to get better, most of the work is going to be yours, not ours. We can help, but you have to be patient with us and help us. Because I’m sure you’re not the same. No two people ever are. You have to let us get to know you. Can you do that? And try to be more patient with each other, too?”

  Ray and Jay looked at each other, and a signal no one else could see passed between them. And they both turned to the nurse, nodded, and said, “Yes.” In perfect unison.

  The principal turned to Mr. and Mrs. Grayson and said, “I think your ideas about how to handle this problem are just right. To help the boys move ahead with their schoolwork. And I thank you both for your understanding. About our mistake.”

  Both parents nodded and smiled, and Mrs. Grayson said, “And thank you, too. We’re not trying to be difficult, honestly. We just want what’s best for the twins—I mean, for Jay and Ray.”

  And Mrs. Lonsdale nodded back and said, “Exactly what we want as well.”

  All the grown-ups were suddenly on their best behavior. It felt like the sun had come out after a big thunderstorm. And the boys picked up on that. Ray sneaked a quick look at Jay, who was sneaking a quick look at him, and each saw relief on the other’s face. And both looked away quickly, because this would have been the wrong time for a smile. But for the moment, the worst was over, and they knew it.

  The next ten minutes were a flurry of activity as the principal consulted with the school secretary to separate the twins as much as possible during the school day.

  Since Jay was the name already connected with a face in Mrs. Lane’s homeroom, it made sense for Jay to stay put, and Ray would be the one who moved to Mrs. Abbot’s homeroom.

  In fact, for that same reason, Jay’s schedule stayed as it was, and Ray was given a whole different one—which Ray didn’t like at first, because that meant Jay would remain Melissa’s lab partner. But he let it slide. Besides, there were sure to be some nice girls in the other classes too. And Ray actually thought he got the better deal, because it was like he was going to get a brand-new start. As himself. As Ray Grayson. His new locker was at the far end of the sixth-grade hall. Plus, he would never have to pretend he liked playing soccer again for as long as he lived.

  As it ended up, the only class the boys were going to have together was gym. They would also be toge
ther during sixth-grade lunch, but they wouldn’t have to sit anywhere near each other. Unless they chose to.

  And the social studies report that was due in class today? Jay would turn it in, because he’d done most of the work on it. And Ray would have an extra week to finish one of his own.

  When their schedules were set, Mrs. Lonsdale said, “Jay, you’re going from here right to social studies, and this is a note to get you into class late.”

  Turning to Ray, she said, “You’re going to the art room, Ray. And here’s a note to explain to Ms. Chu that you are now in that class, and this is a copy of your new schedule—you’ll also need to get textbooks from all your teachers.” She paused and looked from face to face. “So now it’s up to you. And I do not want to hear anything but good news about either of you boys for the rest of the year, is that understood?”

  Both boys nodded and said, “Yes, Mrs. Lonsdale.” In unison.

  Before they left the office, Ray and Jay each got a long hug from their mom. Who almost got weepy again.

  And each son also got a strong handshake and a short hug from their dad. Who did not almost get weepy. At all. And from the look in his eye, Jay and Ray knew that their father hadn’t been kidding about what he’d said to the principal during the meeting. About the consequences they would face. At home.

  But that would be much later. It would be hours and hours before they would have to deal with their dad again. So the immediate threat level dropped away to almost zero.

  The boys left the office together, and when they were about ten feet down the hall, Ray looked back over his shoulder.

  And Jay said, “Anybody following us?”

  Ray said, “Nope. Mom’s watching, but we’re on our own. Clean getaway.”