Three Faces of Me

  Other Books by R.L. STINE

  SERIES:

  • Goosebumps

  • Fear Street

  • Rotten School

  • Mostly Ghostly

  INDIVIDUAL TITLES:

  • It’s the First Day of School…Forever!

  • The Haunting Hour

  • The Nightmare Hour

  • Zombie Town

  • The Adventures of Shrinkman

  • The 13th Warning

  • The Creatures from Beyond Beyond

  • My Alien Parents

  THREE

  FACES

  OF ME

  Three

  Faces

  Of Me

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  Text copyright © 2000 Parachute Press

  Cover illustration by Tim Jacobus

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.

  A Parachute Press Book

  Published by Amazon Publishing

  P.O. Box 400818

  Las Vegas, NV 89140

  ISBN-13: 9781612183268

  ISBN-10: 1612183263

  Table of Contents

  Introduction

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  About The Author

  • R.L. STINE •

  “Ever think it might be nice to have two of you? You know, somehow magically split yourself into two people?”

  That’s how this book begins. And to tell you the truth, it’s an actual thought I had one day. I was sitting at my desk, staring at my computer screen. The screen was blank because I hadn’t written anything yet.

  I was struggling with a new story idea. I just couldn’t get it to work. I stared at the keyboard. Then I stared at the ceiling.

  Then I had a thought: What if there were two of me. Wouldn’t it be great to have a double?

  R.L. Stine II could sit there and do my work. And I would go out and meet friends and go places and have a good time. When I came home, my writing would be done and I could take it easy.

  It seemed like a simple idea. But I’m a big worrier. I started to worry about my double, R.L. Stine II.

  Where would he sleep? What would he eat? The same food as me?

  Would he have my mind? Would he have my memories? What would we talk about? Would we already know each other’s thoughts?

  What if my double went out on the street and people thought he was me? What if he went to see my friends and pretended he was me?

  What if he decided to take over? What if he told everyone he was the original and I was R.L. Stine II?

  You see, I worry a lot. And that’s lucky—because my worrying helps me get the ideas for stories. And the more I thought about it, I decided the idea of having your own double would make a good, creepy book.

  I’d written about doubles before. It’s a subject I like a lot because I think it can be very scary.

  I wrote a book in the Goosebumps 2000 series called I Am Your Evil Twin. In this book, a boy named Montgomery is sitting in school. He looks out the classroom window and sees someone staring in at him from outside. To his horror, he realizes the boy staring in at him is HIM.

  Later, I wrote a book in the Nightmare Room series called Liar Liar. This book is about a boy named Ross, who likes to tell lies. Ross goes to a party—and who does he see across the crowded room? He sees himself.

  Ross is terrified. He knows he doesn’t have a twin. He’s desperate to tell someone about his double. But no one will believe him. Why should they? He lies all the time. It turns out that Ross has lied so much, he’s lied himself into another world.

  I hate when that happens—don’t you?

  Anyway, I had the start of an idea for Three Faces of Me. I knew it would be about problems between a boy and his exact double.

  But how would the boy—Ira Fishman—get his double? I started to think about cloning. When scientists clone, they take cells from an animal and use them in the birth of a new animal. The new animal is a double of the animal whose cells were used.

  I learned about a woman who had a dog she really loved. The dog was getting old, and she knew he would soon die. But he was a very special dog. He was very smart. He could open doors and close them. He could open the refrigerator door and bring her a can of soda. He understood hundreds of words.

  The woman took him to Korea where scientists have cloned dogs. It cost thousands of dollars. But soon there were five or six tiny puppies, all clones of her original dog. She took one home, and he was just as clever and smart as her dog.

  I thought about cloning for this story. But it’s too slow. I needed an instant way for Ira’s double to appear. For some reason, the idea of a camera popped into my head.

  Ever since the camera was invented there have been people who thought cameras were evil. Many people thought it was horrible luck to have your photo taken. They believed that the camera stole your spirit right out of your body.

  From the time the camera was invented, people enjoyed doing scary things with them. Early photographers figured out clever ways to make ghosts appear in their photos. When people saw the weird images in the photos, they believed they were seeing real ghosts.

  One of my most popular Goosebumps books was called Say Cheese and Die! In the book, some boys find a camera that takes pictures of horrible things that happen in the future. Every time they snap a photo, something terrible happens to one of them.

  So, okay. Watch out for the camera in Three Faces of Me. Every time Ira clicks it, he’s going to be in double trouble!

  Hope you enjoy the book. Hope you read it TWICE!

  Ever think it might be nice to have two of you? You know, somehow magically split yourself into two people?

  The other one of you could do all the chores, and keep your room neat, and argue with your little brother, and do all the homework.

  And while he’s doing that, you could be watching TV. Or playing ball outside with your friends. Or you could do the best thing of all—just goof off.

  Doesn’t that sound like a totally cool idea?

  Well, you’d better be careful.

  Thinking like that can get you into some pretty heavy trouble. Having a double can be a whole lot of fun—but it can also be really tricky.

  How do I know?

  Well, I guess I should begin at the beginning…

  My name is Ira Fishman. Some kids call me Fish, but I don’t mind. Fish is an awesome nickname.

  Especially since I don’t look like a fish or anything. I mean, I’ve never seen a fish with red hair and freckles!

  The story begins when my eight-year-old brother, Zack, and I were walking home after school last Tuesday. Our house is only four blocks from school, so we always walk.

  Every day we pass by the Corner Candy Shop. And every day we walk right by the game machine outside it. It’s one of those glass machines with all sorts of little toys and stuffed animals inside.

  You put a quarter in and move this big claw and try to pick up one of the toys in the claw and drop it down the chute so you can have it.

  We pass by it every day. We don’t stop bec
ause Zack and I never have any change.

  But Tuesday afternoon I was lucky enough to find a quarter at the playground.

  And guess what?

  That’s right.

  We stopped at the machine and decided to see if we could win something.

  I pulled the quarter out of my jeans pocket and dropped it into the slot. The machine started to hum and shake. I grabbed the control and started to move the claw.

  I saw a squirt gun in there that looked pretty good. And some kind of model sports car.

  I figured if I got a stuffed animal, I’d give it to Zack. I mean, what’s an eleven-year-old going to do with a stuffed animal anyway? Right?

  “Move it this way!” Zack cried. “No! That way! That way! No! Move it back!”

  Big help, huh?

  “Give me a break,” I groaned.

  The claw was tricky to move. When I pulled the control left, the claw went to the right. When I pushed up, the claw went down.

  “You’ve got something, Ira! Close the claw! Close it!” Zack yelled.

  I closed the claw and something slid down the chute.

  Wow! I was practically shaking. I was pretty excited to win something on my first try.

  But the prize didn’t look too great.

  It was a little black box made of plastic. I pulled off the clear wrapping and examined it.

  “What is it?” Zack asked, grabbing for it. He was excited, too.

  “I think it’s some kind of camera,” I said, holding it out of his reach. “I’m not sure where you put the film or anything. There aren’t any instructions.”

  “Awesome. A camera!” Zack said. But I could tell he was disappointed. He wanted the squirt gun, too.

  We made our way home and let ourselves into the house. Mom and Dad work in the same office. They both usually get home around five-thirty.

  We took the little black box up to my room to examine it better. I kept rolling the camera around in my hand, trying to figure out how it worked.

  I sat down at my desk and turned on the bright desk lamp. “How does it take pictures?” Zack asked, sticking his head in the way so I couldn’t see the camera.

  “I don’t know,” I told him, shoving him back. “I think this green thing is a button to push. But I don’t see where you aim it.”

  “Can I have it?” he asked. He always wants everything I have, even if it’s a piece of junk like this camera.

  “No,” I said. “I want it.”

  “I’m hungry,” he said, in the whiny voice he uses when he doesn’t get his way.

  I pushed the little green button on the top of the box.

  Nothing happened.

  “Okay. Let’s go downstairs and get a snack,” I said. “I think I saw some cookies in the cabinet.” I put the box on the desk, and we went down to the kitchen.

  We finished all the chocolate chip cookies in the bag and drank some apple juice. Then Zack’s friend Marv came over. Zack and Marv went outside to play.

  I fooled around for a while. Then I went back upstairs to start my homework.

  Mrs. Quinn gives us tons of math problems to do every night. But I don’t mind. I’m really good at math. Maybe I’m weird or something, but I really like doing math problems.

  I started into my room, but then I stopped.

  A boy was sitting at my desk. He had my math book open. He seemed to be doing math problems.

  He had red hair and freckles. And he was wearing the same clothes as me.

  My mouth dropped open. I stared at him really hard. He was me!

  I blinked and shook my head, but he didn’t go away. I walked up to the desk. He looked just like me in every way.

  He was even left-handed like me. And he held the pencil in the funny, slanted way I do.

  He looked up. “Hi,” he said, smiling. He sounded just like me. He smiled just like me.

  I thought maybe I was looking into a mirror. Maybe he was just my reflection. Only my reflection was sitting—and I was standing.

  “Who are you?” I asked.

  “I’m Ira Fishman,” he said.

  I just stared at him. I couldn’t talk. Finally I said, “No, I am.”

  “Slap me five,” he said, just the way I always do. He held out his hand, and I slapped him five.

  “You look just like me,” I said. “But who are you really?”

  “I told you,” he said. “Ira Fishman.”

  “But that’s me,” I protested. My voice was getting high and whiny like Zack’s.

  “Me, too,” he said calmly.

  “You’re me?” I cried.

  “I guess.”

  “But if I’m me, how can you be me?”

  He just shrugged, the way I shrug when I don’t know the answer to something.

  “I’m hungry,” he said. “Could you run down to the kitchen and get me a snack?”

  “Zack and I finished all the cookies,” I told him.

  “Do you have any apples?” he asked.

  “Maybe,” I said.

  “Could you peel one for me?” He went back to the math problems.

  “Listen, I don’t know who you are, but you can’t stay here,” I told him. “Get out of my chair. You’ve got to go.”

  That didn’t make him very happy. He bit his lower lip, just the way I do. “Go where?” he asked.

  “I don’t know.”

  “But I live here,” he said. “This is where the Fishmans live, right?”

  “Right,” I said.

  “Well, I’m Ira Fishman.”

  “But so am I,” I said. This was getting me upset. I couldn’t help it. You’d be upset, too, wouldn’t you?

  “I guess we’re both Ira Fishman,” he said.

  “But I was Ira Fishman first,” I told him. I had him there. He couldn’t argue with that. I’m a very good arguer. Just ask my parents.

  “Prove it,” he said. He picked up the pencil and started doing more division problems.

  “Put that down,” I said, starting to get angry. “That’s my homework.”

  “Mine, too,” he said, concentrating really hard on a problem. “Help me with this one.”

  “That proves it!” I screamed. “That proves you’re not me. Because I’m great at math. I never need help with the problems!”

  He turned back to me. “Don’t be a jerk,” he said. “Look at me. If I’m not you, then who exactly am I?”

  Score one for him.

  I could see that he was a good arguer, too. “I don’t care who you are!” I shouted.

  I was really losing my temper now. “You can’t stay here! What will Mom and Dad say? What will you eat? Where will you sleep?”

  He pointed to my bunk bed across the room. “There’s plenty of room,” he said. “I’ll take the bottom bunk. I don’t like to sleep up high.”

  We were still arguing about the bunk when I heard Zack and Marv running up the steps. “Quick—hide!” I whispered. “They’ll see us both!”

  My double didn’t move from the desk chair. “You hide,” he said.

  “You’ve got to go!” I whispered, shooing him away with my hands. I was frantic.

  “No way,” he said, crossing his arms stubbornly.

  Zack and Marv were on the landing now. In a few seconds they’d be in the room and see both of me. And how could I ever explain it?

  I had no choice.

  I dived behind the bed. Just in time. Zack and Marv came running in, all out of breath.

  “Can I eat dinner at Marv’s?” Zack asked my twin at the desk. I peeked out from behind the bed. Zack didn’t notice that it wasn’t really me.

  “Is it okay with Marv’s mom?” my double asked.

  “I don’t know. She isn’t home yet,” Marv said.

  I saw Zack pick up the little black box from the desk.

  No! I thought. Don’t press it, Zack. Don’t press it!

  I had a pretty good hunch that the box was responsible for the fact that there were now two of me. What else could have
done it?

  Zack put the black box down. “Please,” he whined, pulling my double’s arm. “Please let me!”

  “Well, wait till Marv’s mom gets home,” the double said. “If it’s okay with her, I’m sure it’ll be okay with our mom.”

  That seemed to satisfy the two boys. They turned and ran out of the room.

  Zack had no idea that he was talking to a fake me. That gave me a very funny feeling in my stomach.

  I had to get out and think this over. Whenever I have some hard thinking to do, I get on my bike and ride around and around the block as fast as I can. It always seems to help me think more clearly.

  That’s just what I had to do now.

  I climbed out from behind the bunk bed. “I’m going outside,” I told my double.

  He looked disappointed. “Aren’t you going to help me with the math?”

  “No,” I said. “You do it. And don’t make any mistakes. I have a perfect average in math.”

  “Big deal,” he said, making a face. The same face I always make.

  I got out of there as fast as I could. I really wasn’t feeling too well.

  I rode around the block six or seven times. It felt good. And it helped me think.

  When I put the bike back in the garage, I knew what I had to do.

  Mom and Dad were home. I went running into the kitchen. They were peeling carrots, making a salad. They looked very surprised to see me come in the kitchen door.

  “Oh. Did you go out?” Mom asked. “We thought you were still upstairs working on your math homework.”

  So they had been fooled by my double, too.

  I took a deep breath. “I have to tell you something,” I said. “That wasn’t me upstairs. That was a second me. A fake. Something happened this afternoon, and now there are two mes.”

  They both laughed.

  “Tell both of you to wash his hands,” Dad said. “Dinner is in five minutes.”

  “I’m serious!” I said. “There are two of me now. The other one looks and sounds just like me.”