The Twinning Project (15 page)

I could be going crazy.

But I have to do something.

Get to Grandpa.

He was so busy finding the light switch on Tom's fancy bike that he didn't notice the white van parked at the curb until the doors flew open and two big men in white uniforms jumped out.

One of them pulled out a small can and sprayed a sour-smelling liquid in Eddie's face.

“See how
you
like it, punk,” he said.

“This is the other one, Earl.”

The last thing Eddie remembered was feeling sorry that he had left Tom's bike lying in the middle of the driveway.

THE UNION COUNTY (N.J.) HOSPITAL FOR THE CRIMINALLY INSANE

1957

 

I
N
what seemed like a dream, Eddie was heading back to EarthTwo, hungry, thirsty, wracked by the flulike symptoms of slipping. The sour spray smell was in his nose and throat. When he woke up, he was sitting against a tree.

It hadn't been a dream. The two big men in white uniforms who had grabbed him outside Tom's house now took his arms and dragged him into a white van. One of them handed him a canteen of water. Eddie guzzled it.

“Easy, fella. Too much'll make you sick.” The man pulled the canteen away.

“Let him get sick,” said the other one.

“I told you, Earl, this ain't the kid from the park, the pepper spray punk.”

“I don't like either of 'em, Duke.”

They drove for a while. A high chainlink fence with barbed wire on top loomed up, beyond it a gray castle with towers.

They pulled Eddie out of the van and supported him up the stairs to the front door. His legs were wobbly.
They hustled him down a corridor and into a small concrete room with a cot and a toilet hole. The window had bars on it, but it was too high to look out.

“Welcome, Eddie.”

It was Dr. Traum. Smiling. Leaning away from him.

Concentrate, stay calm.

“Where am I?”

“In a place where we can help you.”

“Help me?”

“Help you with the voices, with the strange feelings. Were you feeling sick?”

“Yeah.”

“And now you're better.”

“What's going to happen?”

“That all depends on you, Eddie.”

“What do you mean?”

“The voices, Eddie. Your brother. Your father.”

Careful
. He swallowed down the excitement coming up into his chest. “What about them?”

Dr. Traum stood up. “We'll talk again. I'll send you some food.”

Moments after he slammed the cell door, the doggy door opened and a tray slid in. A tuna fish sandwich, a tin cup of milk, a dish of green Jell-O.

Eddie wolfed it all down, too fast. The food became a ball in the pit of his stomach. He stretched out on the cot. He was exhausted. His head felt like a rattle, pieces of sounds and words tumbling inside, scraping and clattering against the inside of his skull. Tom was in there, calling to him.

Eddie-you there, Eddie?

The voices again.

He tried to shut them down, slow the rattle, think, but Tom's voice got louder.

I'm right here, Eddie.

The voices got lost in the screaming of inmates and the rattling of tin cups against cell bars. Eddie remembered how he could shut out the crowd noise when he needed to focus to throw a pass, sink a free throw, pitch out of a jam. He could imagine narrowing his brain to keep everything out.
Find something to concentrate on,
he told himself.

He thought of Buddy, wagging his stub of a tail, licking his face.

I'm in the insane asylum, Eddie. In the cell next door.

NEARMONT, N.J.

2011

 

W
HEN
Tom didn't get on the school bus, Alessa almost got off. She felt nervous without him. Kids were looking at her. As usual, she wondered if they were making comments about her size and what she was wearing. She ordered herself to toughen up.
They're not talking about you, Lessi. They're still talking about Tech Off! Day.

It had been extended for a second day. She missed using her phone. She felt lonely. Her thumbs twitched. She remembered when she used to suck them not that long ago, just before she got her first smartphone.

Then Britzky walked up the aisle and leaned over the seat in front of her. His breath smelled of garbage. What did he eat for breakfast? She lifted up her backpack as a shield.

“Where's Tom?” he asked.

It was almost a whine, she thought. He looked worried. Being Tom's bodyguard must be such a big deal for him.
You're not better than him, Lessi. Being Tom's friend and adviser is such a big deal for you
.

She couldn't believe she was trying to understand Britzky. She'd never thought of him as having any human feelings.
Maybe he feels like an outsider, too.
Tom had figured that out—the new Tom, the nicer, people-person Tom. But she did miss the old Tom's smartness, and his violin playing.

“I don't know,” said Alessa. “I haven't heard from him.”

“I guess he wouldn't answer his cell on a Tech Off! Day.”

“He doesn't have one.”

“Duh.” Britzky rapped his skull. It was kind of cute for a brute. “I shoulda thought of that.”

“If I hear anything, I'll let you know. What's your number?”

He didn't remember. He had to pull out his phone.

Nobody ever calls him
, she thought.

“Hey, thanks,” he said. He smiled at her. It came out crooked, like he wasn't used to smiling.

“No problem.” She thought for a second. “ . . . Todd.”

He widened the smile, uncrooking it.

She could tell he really liked being called Todd.
Oh, you got some moves, girl.

People
were
looking at her in school, she decided, but it was all right. She was Tom's friend. A few people even asked her where he was, and she tried to be mysterious about it, not letting on that she didn't know, either. Teachers were talking about Tech Off! Day in their classes, and there were arguments, but not nasty arguments—more like friendly discussions, like whether this was a good idea or not. Some kids wondered if people secretly didn't want to talk to each other and that was why texting was so popular, and then some political kids said that maybe Google and Apple and Verizon and those other companies were pushing this stuff down our throats just to make money and we shouldn't let them get away with it.

It was interesting. It wasn't that everyone was for it or against it or there was a big split in the school like color war at camp. And kids
were
cheating; she spotted a few thumbs in action. But people were actually having conversations. Alessa felt proud that she was part of it. But she wished Tom were there. Where could he be?

There was an assembly to celebrate how special Nearmont was to have the first Tech Off! Day. A woman from Apple, the company that made the school's computers, said that Apple supported Tech Off! Day because it gave people a chance to appreciate how important technology was on all their other days. Apple was going to give the school ten of its latest Macs.

The teachers led the applause. Britzky leaned over and said, “That doesn't make sense.”

Alessa was about to say, “You're not as dumb as you look,” but she bit her tongue. He might not take that right.

Mrs. Rupp didn't use her PowerPoint in history. She was still planning to add the first Tech Off! Day to her timeline.

There was more noise than usual in the cafeteria. Alessa wondered whether that was because kids were actually talking to each other or because of the excitement over having all the cameras and reporters.

Britzky, sitting at her table, said, “Where's Tom?” for the fourth time. Alessa thought he was like a dog waiting for his master to come home.

“On another planet,” Alessa snapped. She hated to keep admitting she didn't know.

“Yeah . . . I always thought he was from another planet,” said Hannah, the girl with green hair.

“Both of them,” said the boy with the raccoon eyes.

“Both?” said Alessa and Britzky together.

“He changed,” said raccoon eyes. “He was like two totally different people.”

“The pills,” said Alessa.

“He really was like two different people,” said Britzky. “He got super nice. He made you want to be his friend.”

“He got boring,” said raccoon eyes.

Kids kept coming over looking for Tom. The basketball coach asked where he was. One of the jocks swaggered over, and Britzky jumped up, his arms crossed on his chest, standing between the jock and Alessa.
Now he's bodyguarding me,
Alessa thought.
This is too weird
. But she liked it. The jock just wanted to say that the basketball team was behind Tom's campaign.

“I'll tell him,” said Alessa. “Thanks.” Cool the way people were looking at her like she was somebody.

But a somebody would
do
something.

Late in the day, she did something. She ditched gym and locked herself in a stall in the girls' bathroom. She made sure her phone was on vibrate when she turned it on to check for messages.
Please let there be something from Tom.

Nothing.

She needed to talk to somebody. She waited in the hall until Britzky came out of the gym.

“Todd? Do you think something could have happened to Tom?”

“Like what?”

“I don't know. It's as if he just disappeared off the face of the earth.”

Britzky lowered his voice. “Alien abduction.”

“Do you believe in stuff like that?”

He looked a little embarrassed, but he nodded his head.

“You think something is going on here? In school?”

“Everywhere. You can feel it.”

Alessa looked at him carefully. “When do you feel it?”

He leaned closer. Alessa could see cheese between his teeth. He whispered, “With Tom.”

She jerked back. “Like what?”

He shrugged. “I get a feeling when I'm around him. It's like a hum. Maybe a buzz.”

Alessa felt a quivery chill rising up to her chest. “Me, too.” She took a chance. “I think something bad is going on. He might be in trouble.”

Britzky's eyes looked fiery. “What can we do?”

“Dr. Traum. Maybe he could help us.”

“Do you trust him?” said Britzky.

“No. But who else is there?”

NEARMONT, N.J.

1957

 

R
ONNIE
was hungry. Half of Eddie's huge lunch sandwich was usually Ronnie's major meal of the day. And Ronnie was lonely. Eddie was the only kid in school who let him hang around. Early in the morning, waiting for the food deliveries for the cafeteria, he spotted Dr. Traum in the parking lot and ran over to him.

“Dr. Traum, I've got some news about Eddie.”

“Do you.” His glittering green eyes made Ronnie feel chilly all over.

It took him a moment to remember what he had dreamed up to say. “Remember when you asked me about voices? Well, Eddie thinks his dog is talking to him.”

“Does he, now.”

It wasn't working. Dr. Traum wasn't interested, Ronnie thought.
Could he tell I was lying, or does he know where Eddie is? Take a chance.

“Where's Eddie?” he asked Dr. Traum.

“In a safe place.”

“Where's that?”

“I'm in a hurry, Ronnie.” Dr. Traum pulled his briefcase out of his black Cadillac, slammed the door, and rushed off. He was inside the school before Ronnie noticed that he had left his keys in the ignition.

By the time Ronnie got back to the rear of the building, the delivery men had finished unloading the food and locked it inside the school. Ronnie had no chance to swipe even a can of mixed fruit, his favorite.

He trudged back to Dr. Traum's car, opened the door, and pulled the keys out of the ignition. He would take them to Dr. Traum. Maybe then Dr. Traum would tell him about Eddie.

He noticed a pile of coins in the ashtray: enough to get breakfast at the diner. Boy, was he hungry. He scooped out the change and dropped it into his pocket with the keys. It would be a loan. He'd tell Dr. Traum. He locked the black Cadillac. He thought it was a pretty fancy car.

Even so, he felt a little guilty eating the egg sandwich he bought with Dr. Traum's change. But it tasted so good and filled his stomach.

Without Eddie around, the day dragged for Ronnie. Three times he went to the psychologist's office to turn in the car keys, but Dr. Traum was never there. Ronnie didn't want to just leave them. He wanted to trade them for some information about Eddie.

After school he went to the County Recreation Center, where he could take a shower and eat leftovers from the senior lunch program in exchange for helping the janitor set up chairs for the evening meetings.

At dusk it was time to think about a place to sleep. He didn't want to go back to the church where he had hidden his bag of clothes. The priest had spotted him last time and invited him in for a meal, but the guy had seemed creepy. The railroad cops were checking out the boxcars more regularly, and the regular cops were running more patrols around the summer houses on the lake because there had been a few burglaries.

He remembered Dr. Traum's fancy car. It should be comfortable.

It was still there. He unlocked it, put the keys back into the ignition, and crawled under some blankets in the back. Dr. Traum had said Eddie was in a safe place. He wondered if Eddie was at the Union County asylum. It was somewhere out in the country. The weekend he'd been there had been awful, in a cold little cell with a hole for a toilet. He got a headache from the constant noise, the patients screaming and banging their tin cups against the bars. They let him go when his caseworker showed up with a new foster mom. Why would Eddie be there?