The Identical Boy (12 page)

He made his way to the bottom of the stairs. The downstairs toilet was a metre away. The downstairs toilet that the boy had already checked. Sam—gently, gently, ever so gently—turned the handle to the downstairs toilet. It screeched slightly, metallic; to Sam’s ears, it sounded like a foghorn: ‘Here he is! Here’s where Sam is hiding!’ As soon as the door was open the tiniest of cracks, barely wide enough for him, Sam slipped through and closed it behind him.

‘No. Not in the basement after all. Upstairs I go. Perhaps you’re in the trunk at the bottom of your bed? Or behind the wardrobe in the secret alcove?’

Sam held his breath as footsteps began to pass overhead on the stairs. He heard his parents’ door open with ease. No longer locked, it seemed.

‘Sam. You are hiding really, really well! Maybe you’ll even win? Send me on my poor and lonesome way.’

Sam could hear the boy exit his parents’ bedroom and make his way along the corridor towards Sam’s room. How long had it been now? How long did the boy have left to find him? Long enough to realise he wasn’t upstairs and to begin his search down here again? Sam couldn’t risk it. He needed to be at the farthest possible place to give him the best chance of winning. He needed to slip down into the basement.

‘Spots of blood in the trunk, Sam? Did my friends nip and nibble? They were only being nice and friendly.’

Sam crept out of the downstairs toilet and made his way into the kitchen. The basement door was open. Sam took the old brass key out of the lock, then slipped within and closed the basement door behind him. It was pitch black, the darkness solid and impenetrable. Sam turned and slid the key into the door’s lock, then twisted it to the right. A clunk let him know the door was secure. He pulled the key from the door. The door was locked.

He’d won.

He’d won!

He’d won the game!

He was in a locked room. He had the only key. There was no way the boy would find him in time. Even if he could, even if he made his way back to the basement in time, he’d never be able to get in! Sam smiled, covering his mouth to stop a stream of manic giggles from bursting out.

Sam had won. He would stay, and the identical boy would leave. The monster would go away and things could go back to normal.

He felt around in the black, black darkness for a way to turn on the light. His wrist brushed against a cord dangling from the ceiling and he grasped it tightly, pulling down. A bare bulb stuttered into bright life. Sam blinked and rubbed at his eyes, the suddenly illuminated room coming into focus.

And that was when Sam realised he wasn’t in the basement.

In fact, he now remembered that his house didn’t even have a basement. Two floors and then an attic. But no basement. How could he have forgotten something like that?

Wind toyed at his clothing as, all around him, the trees of the forest laughed and mocked poor Sam. They shook their branches and rattled their leaves, overjoyed to see the trick complete at last.

Sam was Between.

He looked down at his hand, but the key was gone.

The trees shook and sniggered.

He turned and looked for the door, but knew before he did what he would find. The door was gone. The wall was gone. Any sign of the house was gone. All that remained was the cruel, mocking forest.

The trees cackled and crowed.

Sam had left the house. Sam had broken the rules of the game.

Sam had lost.

The boy had won.

***

The boy sat in the dark of the bedroom for several minutes, satisfied. It was all finished now. No more frustrated years Between, wanting to taste more vivid fruit. This was where he lived now. So Awake that this world seemed to scream at him to come play. And oh—

And oh—

How he would play.

He undressed, folding his bloodied clothes carefully and placing them onto a chair. He brushed the heart from the bed, then slipped between the crisp covers, laying his head down upon the cool pillow.

His parents stepped into the bedroom, arms interlocked, looking proudly down at him as he closed his eyes peacefully and drifted off to sleep.

‘Our boy,’ said Mum.

‘Our boy,’ said Dad.

Sa
m
walked.

He had no destination or purpose in mind; he just walked.

He knew there was a town somewhere. Streets and houses. A place to find shelter. Perhaps a new home. Safety. Empty, alone safety. But he stayed in the forest. He walked aimlessly, surrounded by the trees that found his loss so amusing, that shook their branches at him as he passed on by.

He deserved this. He felt it in the hollow pit of his stomach. It was all his fault, his own stupid, selfish fault. He had allowed a monster into his home. His Awake home. A monster that had gone on to do terrible things. Terrible things to Ally—and to Mark the bully, who might have been horrible, but he didn’t deserve that. How many more would the creature attack now?

Sam scrubbed at his tear-filling eyes with the cuff of his jumper and sat down heavily onto the ground, twigs crackling beneath him.

‘You are here again.’

Sam looked up to see the Tall Man in black stood over him. The man without a face. The man who claimed to be Lord of Between. Of this place.

‘I lost the game,’ said Sam.

The Tall Man nodded. ‘That type of creature is good at tricks and lies. Its skills are to be admired.’

‘Admired? It’s a monster!’

The Tall Man tilted its featureless head to one side. ‘Yes. A skilful monster.’

Sam let the tears flow now, though he made no sound. He just sat and let the water stream down his cheeks.

‘You are a sore loser.’

Sam looked up angrily at the Tall Man. ‘This isn’t funny! It will hurt people!’

The Tall Man nodded. ‘Oh yes. Many, many people. Perhaps even more than that. You have allowed it to enter a fertile hunting ground indeed.’

‘If you’re the boss of this place, why did you let it happen?’

‘Should I interfere in the lives of others? I am not a dictator. I do not squash a creature’s true nature. Besides, I told you all you needed to know when first we met, did I not?’

‘No! You didn’t help me; didn’t help me at all!’

‘I gave you all you needed.’

Sam turned from the Tall Man and picked at leaves on the ground. He thought back. Back to when he came to this place, desperately searching for his friend. For a monster. Back to the first time he’d briefly met the tall, faceless man. He tried to pull their first conversation back into his memory. What had the Tall Man said? How had he helped?

Suddenly, Sam had it: ‘We’re connected.’

The Tall Man nodded.

‘So, does that mean…?’ Sam began, and then he thought and thought. ‘What he can do, I can do.’

‘Identical boys,’ said the Tall Man.

Sam felt hope beginning to flower; he tried to pour dirt on it to stop the dreadful feeling from growing further.

‘But I signed the blood contract and I lost the game. I can’t go back.’

‘Do you believe everything a monster tells you? A tricky, deceitful, clever monster?’ The Tall Man shook his head, and a rumble emerged that might have been amusement. ‘Think well of yourself.’

‘What does that mean?’

‘Think well of yourself, Sam Ward.’

Was it true? Was there a way to reverse what had happened? Sam felt suddenly very angry with himself for even thinking these things. For thinking these hopeful thoughts whilst Ally was dead because of him.

‘It doesn’t matter. So what if I can go back? What if the monster is a liar and he fooled me over and over and really I can go back any time and swap our places? I got what I deserve, anyway. It’s all down to me. I brought a monster into the world and let it do horrible, terrible things to people.’

‘But you did not know. Not fully.’

‘I knew enough! I could have tried, or something. I could have!’ The tears were now too many in number; they poured and they blinded.

‘What is it that stings so sharply?’ asked the Tall Man.

Sam leapt to his feet, fists clenched. ‘It’s my fault that Ally died!’

‘Wait, I’m dead? Someone could’ve told me that.’

Sam turned in disbelief in the direction of the familiar voice, his heart seeming to leap into his throat. Ally was stood before him, hair green, Dr. Martens scuffed.

‘…Ally?’

‘What’s shaking, Sammy boy?’

Sa
m
stared at Ally in disbelief. It couldn’t be true. Wasn’t true. She was dead. This was some sort of cruel trick, surely? He turned to the Tall Man to ask what kind of a nasty, mean, horrible game he was playing; but the Tall Man was nowhere to be seen.

‘Hey, kid, what’s with the silent gawping and suspicious eyes?’

Sam stepped once, twice towards her, legs unsteady, then stopped and backed away. ‘No; you’re not real. You’re not.’

‘Well, obviously I am real, unless you’re talking to the wind.’

‘The boy killed you,’ said Sam. ‘He had his blood on you, had your heart!’

Ally looked sadly at the ground. ‘Mr Pooch. That boy, he….’ She sniffed and ran the back of her hand across her eyes.

‘This is just a trick. Just another mean trick. The monster killed you,’ said Sam. It must be a trick. A final cruel twist. That’s all.             

‘I gotta admit, I thought I was a goner too. Things got pretty hairy there for a moment. But in the end, all he wanted was my fear. To make me feel scared. No, scratch that—to make me feel completely terrified. Every bit of me. For the fear to radiate out of every pore. He seemed to eat it, to feast on it, sucking it out of me.’ Ally shrugged. ‘As soon as he was full up, a door opened and he threw me away like an empty wrapper. And now here I am. He’s a creepy, evil so and so, that pal of yours.’

‘He’s not my pal! It was just pretend. A lie. I didn’t know what he would…. I didn’t want him to do that, to do any of it.’

Ally stepped forward quickly and hugged Sam tightly. Sam tried to pull away, but she didn’t let him; she held him close until he stopped struggling. As he felt those arms around him, and the warmth of her, he realised it was true. He knew it. Could feel it. This was really, truly Ally, his friend. She was alive.

His
friend.

‘I’m so sorry,’ said Sam, a sob in his voice.

‘Hey, I know, kid. I know.’

They stayed like that for a long time. Relief. Hope. Happiness.

Finally Ally released Sam and looked down, her cheeks streaked with wet tracks.

‘Did you know there’s a talking snake in a burnt-out bus not far from here? That’s a freaky thing to stumble across.’

Sam laughed once, the noise surprising him.

‘Well, I’m afraid the surprises are just going to keep on coming,’ said Ally, and she looked back over her shoulder. ‘Come out, come out….’

A shuffle of feet, and then someone else stepped into view from behind a tree. He was thick set, and his nose whistled as he breathed heavily, jaws clamped shut. ‘Hey,’ said Mark the bully.

Sam’s heart began to beat fast, and he stepped back, ready to run away.

‘Hey, hey, come on, Samster. No need for that. Not now,’ said Ally

Sam looked to her, and Ally smiled quickly and nodded once. He looked back to the bully, but … something was different. He could see it Mark’s eyes. He could see … shame?

‘I want…I just…’ Mark stopped, kicked at the ground, then looked to Sam again. ‘Sorry. I didn’t know. I didn’t realise, I—’

Ally coughed theatrically, eyebrows raised.

Mark looked at the ground. ‘I did know. I just didn’t care. I liked feeling … special. But when he … when
it
came for me. I just … I never want to make anyone feel like that. Not anymore. Not never. The only people I want to fight are people who make others feel like that. So that’s what I’m going to do. Promise.’

Sam couldn’t quite believe what he was hearing.

‘I know, right?’ said Ally. ‘Kinda makes you believe in miracles.’ She winked and Sam smiled. He felt … different. He hadn’t helped kill anyone. He’d just been tricked, that’s all. Made a fool of. They were safe. He felt happy. He felt joy. He felt a warming glow spread around his body, kicking out the empty, cold despair that he’d been carrying around for so long. Since long before the monster had arrived.

‘So, I guess we’re stuck here then, huh?’ said Ally.

‘I saw a town back there, somewhere,’ said Mark, the former bully. ‘Maybe we can get a house, or something.’

Think well of yourself, Sam Ward.

Sam thought he understood. ‘No,’ he said, smiling.

‘No?’ replied Ally.

‘We can go back. We can! We can leave here and go back and be awake, I know it.’

‘How we gonna do that, then?’ asked Mark.

‘He told me. The big, faceless man. He told me everything I need to know. Think well of yourself! We’re connected, me and the monster. He is me and I am him, but he’s only me because I let him in. I let him be me. It sniffed out my sadness and dug its fingernails in deep. But I won’t be sad anymore. I don’t want to be. I don’t need to be!’

Ally and Mark looked to each other, a little confused. ‘
O
-kay,’ said Ally. ‘But, well I mean, we’re still here, in this place. I’m guessing we’re not in Kansas anymore. Unless you can magic up one of those, you know, portal-door thingies for us to step through, then I think we’re kinda staying put.’

Sam closed his eyes.

‘Um, Sammy boy? Hello? Now isn’t the time for a standing nap, you know.’

Sam opened one eye. ‘Shh! I’m doing something.’ He closed the eye, scrunched both tight, and he pictured a door. The same kind of door that he’d walked through to get here, the kind that he’d seen appear in his own bedroom before. He pictured it so clearly, the detail sharp. He felt like he could smell the ancient wood and feel the coldness of the metal handle against his palm.

‘Well, slap my face and call me Bob,’ said Ally.

Sam opened his eyes.

The forest had a door.