Doppelganger - By David Stahler Jr Page 0,3

watching me in the light of the open doorway. “There’s a pack with some food in it on the counter. Enough for a few days. When I get back, you’d better be gone. I’ve babied you long enough.” She shook her head. “When I was your age, I’d already gone through three forms.”

“Where am I supposed to go?” I asked.

She shrugged. “Wherever you want—I don’t really care. Just don’t do anything stupid. And for heaven’s sake, don’t travel in the daylight, at least not until you’ve taken a form. I’ve had to look at you for sixteen years now—you’re not a pleasant sight.”

“I guess this is good-bye, then,” I said. I tried to decide if I should thank her.

“Spare me the sentiment. And don’t bother thanking me,” she said, as if reading my mind. “I tried to teach you, but as far as I can tell, it was a waste of time. You’re my only failure in life. You’re a weak one, even worse than your father.”

“I’m sorry,” I said.

“I suppose it’s my fault. I shouldn’t have let you watch all that TV. I figured it would keep you occupied, but it only made you soft, like a human. Still, you’re a clever boy in your own way. Who knows, maybe you’ll get by.”

With that, she headed down the porch steps. A minute later she’d driven away, and I haven’t seen her since.

I went inside and saw the pack on the counter. I’d noticed it earlier in the afternoon, but hadn’t thought anything of it. It had been sitting in front of me the whole time, waiting—the signal of my departure. And now it was time to go.

I didn’t feel too bad about it. I’d only left my immediate surroundings a half dozen times in my entire life. A change of setting was called for. And really, there wasn’t much I’d miss there, least of all my mother. I even contemplated burning the place down before I left, just to spite her, but I realized it was pointless. Somehow I knew she wasn’t coming back. Besides, I didn’t want to toast my books. I’d read everything I could get my hands on—trashy paperbacks, supermarket tabloids, schoolbooks, even instruction manuals—and had amassed quite a little library in one corner of the cabin. Whenever my mother came back with a new car, I’d comb through it, looking for reading material. I almost took a few of the books with me, then decided against it. To bring some and not others—it didn’t seem fair.

What I really hated leaving was the TV. I liked my books well enough, but I’d miss our television the most. I took one last look at it before I left. I’d spent most of the last seven years watching it. It didn’t matter what time of day it was or what was on—soap operas, cartoons, news—I took it all in. And my mother was perfectly happy to let me—it made her life easier, that’s for sure.

I didn’t really know where to go as I left the cabin, so I followed my momentum downhill, walking the half mile or so of our driveway to the main road, then crossing into the woods where I kept on walking. Night had fallen, but it wasn’t bad going—with our bulbous eyes, doppelgangers can see almost as well in the dark as we can in the light. The rain had stopped, and it was actually quite peaceful in the woods. The night birds were calling to each other, and I could see a pair of deer drifting between the trees a ways off.

Maybe I could just stay here, I thought. But I knew it was foolish. Necessity would drive me to civilization. Already I could feel it pulling me, like gravity, toward the lowest spot.

As I headed out into the world, I had no idea what lay ahead of me. I didn’t know anything about Chris Parker, his sister, Echo, or his parents. I didn’t know about the kids at school, the teachers, the coaches, or any of that. Most of all, I didn’t know about Amber or have a clue that in a few short weeks I would be in love with her. Why would I? Doppelgangers aren’t supposed to fall in love. But then, like my mother said, I always was different. The question was—could I be different enough?

CHAPTER TWO

It took me about three days to get out of the mountains. It wasn’t hard at first, because in the woods I could