The boys stuck their heads inside, listening. The others were still asleep. Now if they could just tiptoe inside—
Scrape. Scrape. Scrape.
Footsteps! On the stairs behind them! Mattie and Eliot whirled around to listen.
Scrape. Scrape. Scrape.
Was it Karloff? Someone was definitely coming closer.
Mattie’s eyes bugged. “Bed!” he whispered and motioned Eliot inside. The boys closed the door as quietly as they could and rushed for their beds. Eliot dove under his covers. Mattie tugged the blanket over his shoes. They squeezed their eyes shut, pretending to be asleep.
The door opened. Mattie kept the blanket wrapped tight around him and his eyes closed.
It was a good thing too because a long, thin shadow crept across the floor. The shadow froze, watching.
Waiting.
And after what felt like forever, it shut the door. They’d gotten away, but Mattie was still scared.
IN THEIR BEDS AND UNDER THEIR COVERS, Eliot and Mattie didn’t know what to make of this new development. When it came to Carter, Mattie kind of considered himself an expert. He knew Carter Larimore was a bad kid. Carter stuck dead possums in air vents and called Mattie girls’ names. He turned chickens loose on school grounds and laughed at teachers.
He did not turn himself in so other kids could go free.
Except he did. He had. And that wasn’t like Carter at all.
Clearly, it was a lot to think about. Mattie rolled onto his side and the bed squeaked. He rolled onto his back and the bed frame shook. He rolled onto his stomach and Eliot kicked his mattress.
“You’re making the whole bed shake!” he whispered and kicked him again. “Would you stop it?”
Mattie stopped it. He lay there until cold gray morning light began to leak under the curtains and the other boys began to stir.
“Eliot,” he whispered.
“Yeah?” Eliot whispered back.
“Did you get any sleep?”
“No way.”
“Good morning!” Doyle shot up straight in his bed, his smile wider than his face. “Would anyone like muffins?”
Mattie didn’t think he was going to want any of Doyle’s muffins ever again. He suspected Eliot would agree.
“Thanks, Doyle, but I’m going to go downstairs,” Mattie said, trying very hard to sound casual. Like it was no big deal. Like Mattie wasn’t thinking about how Doyle was a clone and Carter was in trouble again and everything was ruined.
“No muffins?” Doyle asked. He looked so sad that Mattie actually felt worse.
“No, sorry, Doyle,” Mattie mumbled and jumped out of bed.
“Would you guys shut up?” Kent snapped. He pulled the covers around his head, which made Kent’s dirty feet stick out. Doyle scowled at them.
Because he didn’t like dirt anymore? Mattie wondered. Because he was considering washing them? Because he was debating turning Kent into a clone?
Mattie didn’t know, and he didn’t want to find out. He threw on his clothes and hustled downstairs, Eliot close behind him. Mrs. Hitchcock and Mr. Karloff were already patrolling the cafeteria. Mrs. Hitchcock kept whispering things to Mr. Karloff, and Mr. Karloff would nod and then take notes on his clipboard.
They were staring very hard at Caroline.
And then they started staring at Mattie.
Mattie started to sweat. Did they know? Were they taking notes on who would be next? Did that mean he was next?
Mattie got in line and picked everything that a good kid should pick for breakfast. There was yogurt. There was fruit. There were absolutely no waffles with syrup or cereal with marshmallows. Mattie arranged everything on his tray and carried it to the table. He couldn’t eat a bite.
“Have you seen Carter yet?” Eliot whispered as he sat down next to him.
Mattie shook his head. “It took days for Doyle to return so wouldn’t it—”
The cafeteria doors swung open and the eighth graders walked in. There was Marcus. There was Jay. And there was Carter!
He was talking to Marcus, who slapped Carter’s shoulder and laughed like it was the funniest thing in the world. The sight of Carter made Mattie go a bit woozy with relief. If his brother was here now, he couldn’t have been cloned!
“Be right back,” he whispered to Eliot and jumped to his feet, running off after his brother. Carter grabbed a tray from the stack by the cafeteria line and disappeared into the crowd of students. Mattie stood on his tiptoes and tried to see past the students ahead of him. He’d almost given up when Carter appeared at the end of the line.
“Carter!” Mattie cried and ran to him. “Are you okay? What happened?”
His brother gave him a funny look. “What are you talking about?”
“Last night.” Mattie followed Carter to his usual table. Marcus and Jay were still getting their breakfast so Mattie sat down. He watched his brother take out a napkin and arrange it carefully on his lap. “What happened with Rooney?”
“Oh. That.” Carter took a bite of eggs. He chewed for a few seconds and then swallowed and dabbed his mouth with the napkin. “We had a talk about being out of bounds after hours. He was really disappointed in me and, honestly, I’m pretty disappointed in me too.”
“You are?”
“Yeah.” Carter took another bite, chewed, swallowed, and wiped his mouth. Mattie wondered when his brother had gotten so picky about his table manners. He wanted to ask, but got distracted by Doyle. The clone was watching Carter—and Mattie.
“I can do better,” Carter said. “Headmaster Rooney thinks so too.”
Mattie scowled. Was his brother joking? “Stop messing around,” Mattie said, sliding a quick glance at Doyle. The clone was still watching. Could he hear them?
Carter cocked his head, fork suspended above his scrambled eggs. “I’m going to be a good kid from now on, Mattie.”
Mattie sat very still. He blinked, and then blinked some more. “Carter,” he said slowly, his eyes going from Carter’s napkin to Carter’s unusually clean jacket to Carter’s equally clean tie. Mattie’s stomach started to knot and squeeze. “You’ve never wanted to be a good kid.”
“Well,” Carter said, using his napkin to wipe his mouth, “I used to be like that, but then we came to Munchem and now I want to be good.” He looked at Mattie and gave him a big grin. Over Carter’s shoulder, Mattie could see Doyle grinning now too. “Make sense, Mattie?”
“Uh-huh,” Mattie said because it suddenly made perfect sense. Carter didn’t wipe his mouth. Carter didn’t smile in the morning. Carter definitely didn’t call Mattie by his real name.
Carter wasn’t Carter. Carter was a clone.
HIS BROTHER WAS A CLONE. Mattie looked from Carter’s dark hair (which looked just like it always did) to his crooked smile (which also looked just like it always did) to his wrinkled jacket sleeve (which, admittedly, also looked like it always did).
Mattie looked at all of these things and felt his head go bubbly like it was filled with ginger ale. Even though Carter looked like Carter always did, he definitely wasn’t Carter.
Not good, Mattie thought. This is so not good.
But Carter was smiling at him like everything was perfect.
“You look a little pale.” Carter poured a bit of orange juice into his cup and offered it to Mattie. Mattie shook his head. He looked around for Doyle, but the clone was gone.
“Are you okay?” Carter asked.
“Uh, yeah.”
“You don’t look okay.” Carter leaned forward and Mattie tried not to squeak.
“Was Rooney mad?” Mattie asked, mostly because he really couldn’t think of anything to bring up.
Carter sagged. “He was awfully disappointed. I have so much more to give, and I wasn’t doing my best. So, to show him how I’m turning over a new leaf and going to be good from now on, I helped him with a project in the basement.”
“Wha—” Mattie swallowed. “What kind of project?”
“An amazing m
achine!” Carter’s dark eyes gleamed with the sort of excitement usually reserved for killing things in video games and peeing off of balconies. “There were wrenches stuck in the generators. We had to work all night to get them out, but we did get them out. Isn’t that great?”
“Really great.” Mattie managed a smile, but sweat had broken out between his shoulders and in his armpits.
“The machine’s a secret though, okay?” Carter continued, folding his hands in his lap. “You can’t tell people about it. I’m only telling you because you’re my brother and Headmaster Rooney says our mom wants us to start acting like brothers. He says it’s the only thing she really wants.”
“Okay.”
“I’m telling you because I can trust you, right? You’re a good kid and you’re going to do better from now on, right?”
Mattie stared at his brother—at the clone—and tried to swallow again. He couldn’t. Carter’s voice sounded almost singsong, so why did it feel like Carter was threatening him? Was Carter warning him? Be good or else?
“Okay,” Mattie managed.
“I knew I could count on you.” Carter unclasped his hands and returned to eating his breakfast. Mattie started to stand. His legs were rubbery and his eyes were getting scratchy—sort of like they did before Mattie cried.
But he wasn’t going to cry now. He couldn’t.
Even if it was his fault that Carter was now a clone and that the machine was still running and everything was ruined.
Mattie forced himself to take a deep breath.
“I trust you, Mattie,” Carter said and forked more eggs into his mouth. He chewed them exactly eight times and swallowed. “I’m so glad we’re brothers.”
Funny how it was something Mattie had always, always, always wanted Carter to say, and now it just made him queasy. Mattie picked at the cracked tabletop until a splinter stabbed him under his fingernail.
“You’re a good kid. You don’t belong here. Headmaster Rooney says we’re going to go home soon and make our parents so happy. It’s just like you wanted, right?”
“Right,” Mattie mumbled. It was exactly what he’d wanted since the first day they’d come to Munchem, but Mattie didn’t want it this way. He didn’t know how he was going to fix this, but he knew he had to. “I have to go finish my breakfast.”
“Okay!” Carter grinned and flashed Mattie a thumbs-up. “Don’t forget we have tutoring with Dad today!”
“What?” Mattie suddenly remembered the clone was right: they did have their weekly tutoring with Mr. Larimore during lunch. But how did Carter the Clone know that? “Oh, yeah,” he added. “Thanks for reminding me.”
“That’s what big brothers are for! Make it a great day!”
“Yes. Great day. Right.” Dazed, Mattie wandered back to his table and collapsed in a heap next to Eliot and Caroline.
“Eat something,” Caroline hissed. “They’re watching us.”
Mattie started to ask who was watching—the clones? The teachers? But he was still too stunned. He stuffed toast into his mouth, and it tasted like cardboard.
“They cloned him,” he whispered to the Spencers.
“Impossible!” Eliot gaped. “Doyle was gone for days before they brought him back!”
“Are you sure?” Caroline studied Carter for a long moment. “Maybe he’s messing with you. Carter likes to do that.”
“Even Carter can’t pretend to be nice this early in the morning, not even for a joke.”
The Spencers nodded because it was true, and for several moments they sat in silence. Caroline pushed her salad around on her plate, Eliot smooshed his toast into bits, and Mattie tried to breathe through the tightness in his chest. It was no good, though. The more he thought about his brother getting cloned, the worse he felt.
“It’s my fault,” Mattie mumbled. “If I hadn’t run down there, he wouldn’t have followed. If I hadn’t—”
“Time for class,” Mrs. Hitchcock announced as the bell rang. Carter actually clapped. Mattie cringed.
Caroline elbowed him. “I don’t know, Mattie. Maybe it’s better this way?”
Mattie snapped, “What?”
“Maybe he’s happier.”
“Carter is not happy being a clone,” Mattie said fiercely even though Carter did indeed look awfully happy. In fact, Mattie had never seen his brother smile so wide before. Was he happier? Mattie picked up his tray and dumped everything into the trash.
“Weren’t you hungry?” Mrs. Hitchcock asked. She had her clipboard again and made a notation. Behind her, Marcus and Jay stopped and turned in unison. Mattie felt like the whole cafeteria was staring at him.
Like the whole cafeteria knew that Mattie knew.
This was what Caroline meant when she said “they” were watching. The teachers were watching. The clones were watching. Mattie had to be careful.
“Um, just…not very hungry,” he stammered.
“You aren’t getting sick, are you?” Mrs. Hitchcock asked.
Mattie’s heart double-thumped. Could that get him in trouble too? “No?”
“Good,” Mrs. Hitchcock said and stalked away, leaving Marcus and Jay to study Mattie with their creepy clone eyes. Which admittedly looked like regular human eyes, but now that Mattie knew what the boys were, he couldn’t stop thinking about Jay and Marcus in terms like “creepy” and “scary.”
And terrifying.
And—
“Time for class,” Caroline sang and hooked her arm through Mattie’s, dragging him with her. They pushed their way into the middle of the other students. Eliot was already ahead of them, making his way toward Mrs. Hitchcock’s reading class. Caroline and Mattie followed, keeping their heads down. They didn’t say another word to each other. Maybe because there was nothing left to say, but also because what could they say? Carter was a clone. And, also, Mrs. Hitchcock didn’t like the students to talk.
Mrs. Hitchcock wore three sweaters and a scarf. She was cold—she was always cold—and with that many layers on, she looked like a round, faded Easter egg.
“Hurry up!” she said, snapping her fingers. Mattie and the Spencers picked desks near the back of the classroom. Caroline took out her favorite purple notebook, Eliot chewed on his pen, and Mattie concentrated on the most horrible realization winding around him. It squeezed tighter and tighter.
“You know what this means, right?” Mattie whispered as Mrs. Hitchcock began to write the day’s lessons on the whiteboard. It was the cleanest the friends had ever seen it, and their teacher’s bright green marker squeaked just like Beezus. “They’re getting better at programming the clones. Faster.”
Eliot gulped and nodded.
“You know what else?” Mattie continued. “Carter the Clone is way nicer to me than the real Carter.”
“I believe that,” Eliot said under his breath.
“But the real Carter saved us,” Mattie reminded him. “He knew he’d be in huge trouble when he walked up to Rooney, and he did it anyway. He sacrificed himself.”
“Also true,” Caroline whispered.
The friends were quiet until Mattie couldn’t be quiet any longer. He had a horrible feeling in his stomach and at the same time he wanted to jump to his feet. He wanted to do something.
“Guys,” Mattie whispered as Mrs. Hitchcock squeaked her marker across the whiteboard. “If Carter the Clone is out here, where’s the real Carter?”
The Spencers exchanged a quick look that said, I have no idea. It also said, I don’t like where this is going.
Because the Spencers didn’t like where Mattie’s thoughts were going and Mattie knew it. He wasn’t even sure if he liked where his thoughts were going.
Mattie took a deep breath. “I don’t know where Carter is, but I have to find him.”
NO MATTER HOW MATTIE EXPLAINED THE situation to the Spencers, they were still apprehensive. Mattie understood. He tried to tell himself it would be sort of fun, like when he stole that train.
Except it wasn’t, and no matter ho
w many times Mattie thought it over, he couldn’t make his stomach stop twisting.
Stealing that subway train had been about proving something—even if it had only proven that Mattie had extremely poor impulse control. Saving Carter was about saving Carter. It was desperate. It was scary. It made Mattie’s knees go wobbly.
And yet he couldn’t turn away. This was doing something wrong to do something right.
Unfortunately, that didn’t mean Mattie knew what to do about it either. Where could Headmaster Rooney be hiding the real Carter? In fact, the more Mattie thought about it, the more he wondered where Headmaster Rooney could be hiding all the real students. By Mattie’s count, there was Maxwell, Jay, Marcus, Doyle, and now Carter—five students who would have to be kept somewhere.
But where was somewhere?
Mattie had no idea, but he kept thinking about it. In fact, he was thinking so hard about Carter and where Rooney might hide him that he wasn’t concentrating at all during Mrs. Hitchcock’s class.
Which meant when she asked him about Holes—a novel about a bunch of bad kids and even worse adults—Mattie had no idea what to say. Which also meant he got the whole class in trouble and they had to scrub Mrs. Hitchcock’s floor until the bell rang.
By the time classes broke for lunch and study breaks, Mattie smelled like bleach and his head hurt. He trudged to the headmaster’s office still thinking about clones and Carter and was almost to Miss Maple’s desk when someone rushed out of the shadows.
“Mattie!”
Mattie tripped in surprise. His heart hammered hard against his ribs. “Carter! You, uh, startled me!”
And he had. The clone was so quiet! Almost like he had been trying to sneak up on him.
“Sorry!” Carter said, bouncing from foot to foot. “I’m so happy to see you!”
“You are?” For the briefest of seconds, Mattie was thrilled. But the dark-haired boy who looked just like Mattie’s brother wasn’t Mattie’s brother at all, and the realization was as swift as Mattie’s initial surprise. For a nanosecond, everything had felt kind of sort of perfect and now all Mattie could feel was disappointment so strong it was as if it could pull him through the floor.
The Boy Who Knew Too Much Page 13
