Three Faces of Me

  “That’s great,” Mom said. “Now you can argue with yourself instead of arguing with us all the time.”

  They laughed again. They didn’t believe me.

  I decided I had to show them. I started to pull Mom by the arm. “Come with me. I’ll show you,” I said.

  “Come on, Ira. Give us a break,” Dad said. “We’re trying to get dinner on the table.”

  “Please,” I told them. “It’ll only take a minute. Then you’ll see there are two of me.”

  Finally, by begging and pleading, I got them to follow me upstairs. I put my finger to my lips and told them to be real quiet so we could sneak up on the other me and catch him by surprise.

  We tiptoed up the stairs. Mom and Dad kept giving each other bewildered looks.

  We didn’t make a sound as we tiptoed into my room.

  “I see him!” Mom said, pointing to the bed. “He’s invisible, right? An invisible Ira? He looks just like you—only he’s invisible!” She laughed at her own bad joke.

  He wasn’t there.

  No one at the desk. The math book was closed. The notebook, too.

  No one in the room.

  “I don’t get it, Ira,” Dad said, shaking his head. “Aren’t you a little old for imaginary friends?”

  I felt like a real jerk.

  Mom and Dad hurried back downstairs. I slumped down onto the lower bunk.

  The closet door opened. The fake me stepped out. He had a big smile on his face. “What’s for dinner?” he asked.

  What a terrible night! I was up for hours. I couldn’t get to sleep.

  That’s because I was in the top bunk. I never sleep in the top bunk.

  But you-know-who got to the bottom bunk first.

  He also got down to dinner first. He locked me in my room. Then he went down and ate my food. I could hear everyone talking and laughing down there. No one knew that it wasn’t the real me having dinner with them.

  Later, after everyone had gone to bed, I sneaked down and got some cold chicken from the refrigerator. I was starving!

  When I got back upstairs, my double was sound asleep in the bottom bunk. I climbed up to the top and tried to think of what I should do.

  I thought about it a long time. And I decided that having a double might not be so bad. In fact, having a double could be a great thing!

  When the alarm clock rang at seven the next morning, I hopped down from the bunk and shook my double awake.

  “Huh? What’s going on?” he asked.

  “Wake up,” I said. “You’re going to school today. Come on. Hurry.”

  He yawned. “Why me? What are you going to do today?”

  I gave him a big smile. “I’m going to stay home and have some fun,” I said. “Maybe I’ll stay in bed all day and read comic books.”

  I pulled him out of bed. I tossed him a red T-shirt and my jeans. He got dressed slowly. It took him a long time to wake up. Just like me.

  “Ira—help me get dressed!” Zack was shouting from his room.

  “Go help Zack,” I told the double. He headed toward Zack’s room.

  I climbed back into bed. This was going to be awesome! My double could do all the work. I would have fun all the time.

  I heard him in Zack’s room, arguing about socks. Zack argued about what socks he was going to wear every morning. He never liked any of his socks.

  I smiled. I didn’t have to argue with him this morning.

  I heard them go down to breakfast. I heard Dad yelling at them to finish their poached eggs. I smiled again. No yucky poached eggs for me.

  After they leave, I’ll have candy for breakfast, I told myself.

  I planned my day. Comic book reading all morning. TV watching all afternoon.

  A short while later I heard the front door slam. Everyone had left. I thought I’d be happy to be all alone in the house now. But I wasn’t. I started thinking about how my double would get along in school.

  Would he know which class was Mrs. Quinn’s? Would he know what seat to sit in? Would he know who my friends were?

  Maybe I should go check on him, I thought. Maybe I should make sure he knows what he’s doing. Then I can come back home and have fun all day.

  I jumped into some clothes, grabbed a candy bar for breakfast, and ran all the way to school.

  Then I darted through the halls to Mrs. Quinn’s class. The bell had already rung.

  I poked my head in the door.

  There he was, sitting in my seat. He was joking around with Scotty Furman, just the way I did every morning.

  Mrs. Quinn turned her back to write something on the chalkboard.

  I dashed in through the door at the back of the room and hid inside the supply closet. I pulled the door shut just as she turned around to begin class.

  A few minutes later she started going over the math assignment. I heard her call me to the board to do the first problem.

  I opened the closet door a tiny crack and peeked out. There was my double writing rapidly on the chalkboard.

  I opened the door a little wider to see what he was writing. “Oh, no!” I gasped. I clapped a hand over my mouth. I hoped no one had heard me. But I couldn’t help myself.

  He was doing the problem wrong!

  It was a very bad morning.

  My double missed two math problems and said some very dumb things during class discussion. Everyone laughed at him. I even saw Mrs. Quinn chuckling—but at least she tried to hide it.

  At recess I ran out and hid behind a tree so I could watch him.

  Oh no! Why is he playing with the girls? I wondered. What does he think he’s doing?

  I tried to wave to him to go play softball. I always play softball at recess. It’s my favorite sport.

  But he couldn’t see me.

  How embarrassing!

  There he was, hanging around with the girls instead. What were my friends going to think?

  Finally he wandered over to the softball game. That’s more like it! I thought.

  But I was wrong. He came to bat three times—and each time was an absolute disaster. “This can’t be happening!” I cried, watching him strike out for the third time in a row.

  “Way to go, Fish! Way to go!”

  “Want to borrow my glasses, Fish?”

  Everyone was laughing and carrying on. They all knew that I never strike out. Ever.

  I pounded my fist against the tree trunk. I was never so embarrassed in all my life.

  After school I watched him pack up my bookbag and head for home. I stayed around school for a while and talked to my friends.

  I guess I was kind of lonely. I’d been hiding by myself all day.

  By the time I got home, I was really angry. I knew I could never send my double to school for me again. I was much better at being myself than he was.

  All he did was embarrass me.

  I found him in the den. He was lying on the couch watching cartoons.

  That made me even madder. I never watch cartoons after school. I always watch MTV.

  “Hi,” he said, smiling at me from his seat on the couch. “Did you have a nice day at home?”

  “No, I didn’t,” I growled. I angrily clicked off the TV. “You didn’t do a good job of being me at all,” I told him. “I’ve had enough of you. I want you to leave—now.”

  “Huh?” He gaped at me.

  I went over and started to pull him up from the couch.

  “I’m not leaving,” he said, and he pulled back. Since he was built just like me, he was as strong as I was.

  “Don’t make me mad, Ira,” I said.

  “Don’t make me mad, Ira,” he said.

  “You can’t live here,” I shouted.

  “But I do live here!” he shouted back.

  I grabbed him and he grabbed me. This time I pulled him as hard as I could and yanked him off the couch. We started wrestling around on the floor.

  Do you have any idea how weird it is to fight with yourself? We both kept trying to pin each othe
r with the same moves.

  Suddenly I had an idea. I let go of him and jumped up.

  “You give up fast,” he said, laughing.

  “I haven’t given up. I’ve won!” I cried.

  I ran upstairs. I grabbed the black box off the desk. I hurried to bring it back down to the den.

  “What are you going to do with that?” my double asked. He looked a little worried.

  “I’m going to press the green button again,” I said.

  “No. Don’t,” he said. He looked a little more worried.

  That made me smile. My idea must be right, I thought.

  “I think if I press the button a second time, you will disappear,” I said.

  “No. Please.” He looked very worried. “You don’t want to do that!”

  He tried to pull the little box from my hand. “I’m warning you. Don’t push it.”

  “Goodbye,” I said.

  I pushed the green button.

  Nothing happened.

  My double didn’t move. And he didn’t disappear.

  I ran out of the den and out the kitchen door.

  “Ira! Ira! Come back!”

  He called after me, but I didn’t care. I had to get out of there. I had to think.

  “Ira! Hey—Ira!”

  I ignored his shouts. I jumped on my bike and started pedaling as fast as I could.

  Faster…Faster…

  I like that feeling when you go so fast the ground becomes a blur. It really helps me concentrate.

  I rode around and around the block, going as fast as I could. I was thinking hard. But I wasn’t coming up with any answers to my twin problem.

  Maybe I should try telling Mom and Dad again, I thought. If they actually saw my double, they’d believe me. Then they’d have to do something about him.

  Maybe they could figure out how to make him disappear. Or maybe they could chase him away. Or get him adopted by some nice family.

  Or maybe they’d decide we should keep him.

  He could have the guest room. It might be nice to have a twin brother. There would always be someone to talk to and share ideas with.

  I mean, he was a pretty good guy. After all, he was just like me.

  But what would my friends think?

  And could Mom and Dad afford another kid? They’d have to buy him his own clothes. He couldn’t keep borrowing mine.

  I pedaled faster. The ground went by in a blur. My thoughts were just a blur, too. A crazy, jumbled blur.

  I wasn’t paying any attention to where I was riding. I knew I was several blocks from home, but I just kept on going.

  Suddenly, in front of a house up ahead, I saw a guy I knew from school. It was Andy Brooks. He was throwing a ball up onto his roof and then catching it when it rolled down.

  “Hey, Andy!” I called.

  But then I saw something that made me jam on the brakes. My bike skidded to a stop on the sidewalk.

  I jumped off the bike and stared. I thought maybe my eyes were playing tricks on me. But they weren’t.

  There were two Andys playing ball against the front of his house!

  But of course there were two of them.

  I was so worried and upset about my double that I wasn’t thinking clearly.

  Andy Brooks was a twin.

  An identical twin.

  Andy and Randy always played ball together. They did everything together. I mean, I never saw them apart. They were very close—even for twins.

  “Nice brakes, Fish,” Andy called to me. “Now why don’t you try the horn?”

  I looked down. I had stopped so fast, I had left black tire marks on the sidewalk.

  “I…uh…I was just surprised to see you guys,” I said.

  I let the bike drop to the grass and jogged across their front lawn. “How’s it goin’?”

  “Okay,” they both answered at once. Randy turned his back to me and tossed the ball up onto the roof.

  He and Andy look exactly alike. They’re both really skinny with blond hair, very pale skin, and dark blue eyes. But I knew it was Randy and not Andy.

  How did I know?

  Randy always wears red. When the twins were little babies, their parents kept track of which was which by always dressing Randy in red. And he was still wearing red even now.

  The ball bounced over the gray roof shingles, then started to roll down. Randy made a nifty one-handed catch. Then he tossed the ball to me.

  It was an old tennis ball. All of the fuzz had rubbed off. I tossed the ball up, but I threw it a little too hard. It bounced high on the roof, then sailed over to the other side, down into the backyard.

  “Hey, way to go, Fish,” Andy said sarcastically.

  “Go chase it,” Randy said.

  All three of us ran to the back to look for it. We looked everywhere.

  There was a big garden in back, and we looked under every flower and inside all the bushes and behind the trees, but we couldn’t find the ball anywhere.

  “Thanks for losing the ball,” Andy grumbled.

  “Yeah. Nice move, Ace,” Randy said.

  “What’s it like to be twins?” I asked. The question just popped out of my mouth.

  “What?” They both looked surprised.

  “Really. What’s it like to be twins?” I repeated. “Do you guys like it?”

  “Do we have a choice?” Andy said. He was always sarcastic like that.

  “It’s pretty good,” Randy said, still looking for the tennis ball.

  “Yeah. One good thing is, you always have someone to play ball with,” Andy said. And then he grumpily added, “If you have a ball, that is.”

  “And there’s always someone to talk to late at night when you’re supposed to be going to sleep,” Randy said. “That’s pretty great.”

  “And you can borrow the other one’s clothes,” Andy added. “And you can do your homework together. And there’s always someone around to play video games with. And—”

  “And sometimes you can play great tricks on people,” Randy interrupted.

  Andy laughed.

  “What kind of tricks?” I asked.

  “Well, once I went to Randy’s class and he went to mine—for a whole day,” Andy said.

  “That’s pretty cool,” I agreed.

  Maybe having two of me wouldn’t be so bad after all, I was thinking. Randy and Andy seemed to have a great time with each other. Maybe my double and I could be just like them.

  Maybe we’d be real pals.

  “Trading classes wasn’t cool at all,” Randy said. “He got me into trouble and I had to stay after school and miss baseball practice.”

  “It wasn’t my fault,” Andy insisted.

  “Oh, yeah? Then whose fault was it?”

  “It wasn’t me who was talking in class. Mrs. Quinn just thought it was me.”

  Randy picked up a pebble from the grass and tossed it at the side of the garage. It made a loud thwack and bounced away. “He’s always getting me in trouble,” he muttered, shaking his head.

  “And he’s always borrowing my stuff and ruining it,” Andy complained. “He got my baseball glove soaking wet, and the leather stretched.”

  “It was an accident!” Randy shouted. “You know it was. But you just like to pick on me and give me a hard time.”

  He turned to me. “He’s always picking on me, always bugging me. He always butts in when I’m on the phone. He thinks all of my friends have to be his friends, too.”

  “Do not!” Andy shouted. His face was bright red. “That is so not true!”

  “He borrows my stuff and never returns it. He messes up our room, and I always get blamed for it. He’s a total pig. He eats his dessert and then mine, too.”

  “I do not!” Andy was getting really angry.

  “He copies off my homework. He’s always bugging me to help him. I never get to be by myself. I always have to see him staring back at me twenty-four hours a day. I never get any privacy.”

  “That’s not true!” And
y screamed. Both of their faces were bright red now. “You’re a stupid liar!”

  “He always calls me names, and then when I do it back—”

  Randy didn’t finish what he was saying. Andy had found the tennis ball in the grass. He picked it up and heaved it with all his strength at Randy.

  The ball hit Randy right in the stomach. He cried out and then jumped at Andy.

  “You want to fight?” He took a swing at Andy, but Andy ducked away.

  They grabbed each other by the shoulders and began shoving each other around. Randy toppled over backward onto the grass. Andy jumped on top of him, and they began wrestling, rolling over and over, yelling, calling each other names.

  “Hey, guys,” I shouted. “Come on. Take it easy. Lighten up, okay?”

  But they didn’t hear me. They were both screaming at the top of their lungs, punching with both fists, really letting each other have it. It was not a very pretty sight.

  “I guess you two answered my question,” I said. But they didn’t hear that, either.

  I knew their fight would be over soon, and they’d be friends again. But I didn’t feel like waiting around.

  I walked quickly around to the front, picked up my bike, and rode off.

  The double had to go.

  I didn’t want to spend my whole life wrestling around on the ground. I didn’t want someone else staring back at me all day, following me around, talking to all my friends, borrowing all my stuff.

  I already had Zack to do all those things!

  I pedaled back toward home, thinking hard, thinking of how to get my double out of the house, how to get the guy out of my life—for good.

  “Whoa—!”

  I suddenly remembered something.

  I remembered the first time I pushed the button on the little black box. Nothing had happened.

  Nothing.

  I was disappointed. I put it down on my desk and went downstairs to get Zack and myself a snack.

  And when I came back upstairs…there was the double sitting in my room.

  Yes! Yes!

  I realized I had just remembered something very important.

  It took a little while for the box to work.

  It didn’t work immediately.