Page 28 of Switch!
“What’s your name?” I try again.
He stops rocking. “Travis.”
I freeze, a chill running up my spine. “Travis who?”
“Anderson.”
I look around, unsure what to do, and see an old lady across the street watching us from her porch. Her face is a mask of concern. How much longer before she calls the police? I’m tempted to run for the truck, but I don’t want to leave him here to answer awkward questions or make accusations that will send the authorities after me.
“Come on,” I say. “I’ll give you a ride home.”
I reach for him, his eyes widening in fear before he scurries back, not stopping until he reaches the yard. I don’t have time for this. I grab him under the armpits and lift, but he fights me, lashing out until I back away. Then he pulls his legs up to his chest and starts rocking back and forth.
“It’s okay,” I hiss. “Get in the truck. We’ll go somewhere we can talk. We’ll figure it out together.”
Caleb doesn’t respond. He only sits there in my body and continues to rock. When I reach for him again, he begins howling. It’s a dreadful sound. I glance across the street and see that the woman has been joined by a man with white hair. She’s talking emphatically while jabbing a finger in our direction.
I begin to inch toward the truck, my attention on Travis as he moans. “You’ll be okay,” I say, not knowing if it’s true, or even what I’m about to do. This wasn’t supposed to happen. I no longer have a plan. Returning to my body would mean losing my last chance to get away. Would that be so bad? Dread fills my stomach as I imagine hairy hands touching me against my will. I realize then that, one way or another, I won’t be returning home tonight. “Check your wallet. You’ll find your ID and address. Just stay away from Raymond.”
That’s all the advice I have for him. I run for the truck, grabbing my discarded backpack along the way, and hop into the driver’s seat. I shift into reverse, making sure he’s not in the way. If this doesn’t work, I don’t want to run over the body I’ll need to return to. The driveway is clear as I peel out of it and into the street. The old man is hobbling toward the truck, as if he intends to stop me. I shift into drive, push down on the gas, and the silver cord goes taut. Something is different this time. The sensation is stronger. Twofold.
I hit the brakes in shock, the truck screeching to a halt. I can feel more than one silver cord! One is my own, connecting me to my natural body. The other connects Caleb to his. What I’m about to do might kill us both. As harsh as it sounds, the world is probably better off without someone like him in it. As for me, my death won’t matter to anyone. Except for my mother. I’m already sorry for her, but I’ve gone too far to turn back now.
“Now wait just a minute!” the old man shouts. He’s made it into the street and is reaching for the door handle. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“Saying goodbye.” I slam my foot down on the gas pedal, the tires squealing as the truck lurches forward and tears down the street. I can feel the silver cord pulling on me, like it wants to yank me back to my body. I grab tighter to the steering wheel, grit my teeth, watch a stop sign go whizzing by and then—
SNAP!
Ten ↔ Chapter
Everything is different now. The air streaming in from the truck’s lowered windows batters my short-cropped hair ineffectually, when previously my dark locks would have been blowing around. The red of a McDonald’s sign appears more orange than I remember as it goes whizzing by. The songs I put on the radio sound odd, as if my new ears can’t hear and appreciate what I used to enjoy. Even my name isn’t the same. I’m not Travis Anderson anymore. I’m Caleb McCain, although I’m not sure how long that will last.
I glance over at the phone resting on the passenger seat, expecting it to light up and make noise at any second. He knows my number.Hisnumber. Assuming he can remember anything at all. Three hours have passed since I left town. Enough time for Caleb to find his way back to my apartment and use the phone to call me. Maybe he’s still explaining things to my mother or Raymond. Or the police. They might have already put out an APB on the truck. If they believed him. Surely they won’t. He could be locked up in a mental health ward by now. I don’t know, but I wish I did.
I raise my hand to my nose and sniff. Caleb’s skin smells different than my own. Not in a bad way. Why didn’t I notice all of this before when I was in his body? Probably because I was either fighting for my life or distracted by Ashley. Or maybe Phase Two isn’t as immersive as I once thought. I was only piloting Caleb’s body then, controlling where it went and what it said, but now itismy body. I’m tempted to call this Phase Three, but I’m unsure if the old rules apply anymore. This is no longer simple possession. It’s an entirely different game.
The phone vibrates briefly, and I react like a bomb went off, having to swerve to bring the truck back to the center of the road. What if it’s him? I keep glancing at the phone until I work up the courage to grab it and read the text message.
Mom:Halfway there. We took a short potty break. How are you doing?
Halfway there? Not to Tacoma, surely. I’m still driving through Wyoming.
Visuals assault me. Caleb’s father—my father now, I suppose—sat me down before the trip, pointing at a laptop screen while he lectured.
“This is the first place we’ll meet, just outside of Salt Lake City. Your mother wants to eat at a Vietnamese restaurant she found online—”
“I’ll just grab a burger somewhere and keep going,” I remember responding.
My father swatted me on the back of the head. He wasn’t gentle. “Don’t piss me off. This isn’t a race. You’ll be there for lunch. And you’re meeting us at a hotel in Boise. Put these addresses into your phone.”
I complied. Or Caleb did. The distinction is blurrier than ever, especially now that I have access to his memories. No more impressions limited to mere words. The memories are accompanied by imagery and sound. I’ve been careful about accessing these, since they make me feel like I’ve been split in two. For instance, if I try to recall the earliest memory I have of my mother, I see her in the morning, opening the curtains in my bedroom window and turning around with a smile. That’s the memory I’ve known my entire life. But now I also think of a woman with curly brown hair who is bouncing me on her knee as she sings a song about farm animals. I even feel warm and fuzzy inside, like Caleb must have back then.
And never will again. I’ve taken a child from his parents. The realization makes my stomach turn. Caleb had seemed so lost in my body, so helpless. He didn’t even know his own name anymore. Although if he still thinks he’s Travis, that could be good. He’ll simply take my place. My mother won’t be sad that I’m gone and um… I don’t want to imagine what might happen to him beyond that. I try to convince myself that justice has been served. Caleb made my life hell. Now he has to live it for me. Except not everything was his fault. I can admit that, even though I don’t like the guilty taste it leaves in my mouth.
For all I know, I might be facing the same punishment. What if I get too caught up in being Caleb and slowly forget who I used to be? I must be using a different brain to think. Doesn’t that define who we are more than anything? My body chemistry won’t be the same either. How long until that changes the way I behave? I can’t be sure, which is why I’ve resisted the urge to delve into Caleb’s past, in case his memories somehow override my own.
The temptation grows as the barren landscape of western Wyoming seems to stretch on endlessly. I can’t help wondering what went through Caleb’s mind all those times I possessed him. When I feel the answer swimming to the surface, I’m too curious to resist.
