54 - Don't Go To Sleep (4 page)

“Ugh!” I cringed. “Stop it!” I didn’t know her well enough to let her kiss
me.

The man started the car and pulled out of the driveway. The woman waved.
“Have a good day at school!”

They’re serious, I realized. They really think they’re my parents.

I shuddered.

What was happening to me?

One day I’m a normal twelve year old. The next day I’m suddenly sixteen.

Then the next day I’m twelve again—except I live in a completely different
family!

I stared out the window as “Dad” drove. We passed through a neighborhood I’d
never seen before.

“Where are we going?” I asked in a tiny voice.

“I’m taking you to school. What did you think—we were going to the circus?”
the man replied.

“This isn’t the way to school,” I said.

The man just snorted and shook his head. He didn’t believe me.

He pulled up in front of a junior high school—but not mine. I’d never seen
this place before.

“Okay, son. Have a nice day.” The man reached across me and opened the car
door.

What could I do? I climbed out of the car.

“Dad” drove off.

Now what? I thought. I’m twelve again—but I’m at a totally different
school.

Am I awake?

I kicked myself in the shin to test it. Ow! That hurt.

I figured that meant I was awake.

Kids poured into the school building. I followed them in. I didn’t know what
else to do.

Ahead of me I saw a girl with a long, thick blond ponytail. She turned around
and smiled at me.

She looked familiar. Where had I seen her before?

“Hi,” I said to her.

“Hi,” she said back. Her blue eyes sparkled at me.

“I’m Matt.” I was still racking my brains trying to figure out where I’d met
her before.

“I’m Lacie.”

Lacie! Of course. I’d crashed into her the day before—outside Horrible
High.

I started to say, “I met you yesterday—remember?” But I stopped.

Did she recognize me? I couldn’t tell. But why should she? I looked
completely different from the day before. How could she guess that the
twelve-year-old kid standing next to her was also the clumsy teenager from
yesterday?

“What’s your first class?” she asked me. “I’ve got lunch.”

“Lunch? But it’s eight-thirty in the morning!”

“You’re new here, aren’t you?” she said.

I nodded.

“This stupid school is so crowded, they can’t fit everyone into the cafeteria
at lunchtime,” she explained. “So I’ve got lunch now.”

“I’ve got lunch too,” I lied. Or maybe it wasn’t a lie—what did I know? I
had no idea what was going on anymore. School was beginning to seem like a lot
more trouble than it was worth.

I followed her to the cafeteria. They really were serving lunch there. The
powerful smell of brussels sprouts stank up the air. I gagged.

“It’s too early in the morning for brussels sprouts,” I noted.

“Let’s eat out on the playground,” Lacie suggested. “It’s a nice day.”

We slipped out of the cafeteria and settled under a tree. Lacie sipped a
carton of chocolate milk. I rummaged through my backpack for some lunch. I
figured my new “mom” must’ve packed me something.

She did, all right. Baloney and ketchup on white bread. A little plastic bag
full of carrot sticks. Vanilla pudding for dessert.

Everything I hate.

Lacie held out a chocolate cupcake. “Want this? I can’t face it this early in
the morning.”

“Thanks.” I took the cupcake.

Lacie seemed like a really nice person. She was the nicest person I’d met since my life became a nightmare. She was the
only
nice person I’d met since then.

Maybe she would understand. I really wanted to talk to somebody. I felt so
alone.

“Do I look familiar to you?” I asked her.

She studied my face.

“You do look kind of familiar,” she said. “I’m sure I’ve seen you around
school….”

“That’s not what I mean.” I decided to tell her what had happened to me. I
knew it would sound weird to her. But I had to tell somebody.

I started slowly. “Were you walking past the high school yesterday?”

“Yes. I walk past it every day on my way home.”

“Did someone bump into you yesterday? A teenager? In front of the high
school?”

She started to answer. But something caught her eye. I followed her gaze to
the school door.

Two guys were walking toward us. They were tough-looking guys in black jeans
and black T-shirts. One wore a blue bandanna around his head. The other had
ripped the sleeves of his T-shirt to show off his beefy arms.

They had to be at least sixteen or seventeen. What were they doing here?

They headed straight for us.

My heart began to pound. Something told me to be afraid of them.

Maybe it was the nasty looks on their faces.

“Who are those guys?” I asked.

Lacie didn’t answer. She didn’t have time.

One of the guys in black pointed at me.

“There he is!” he shouted.

“Get him!”

The two guys ran straight for me.

Who were they? I didn’t know.

But I didn’t stop to think. I jumped to my feet and ran as fast as I could.

I glanced back. Were they chasing me?

“Stop him!” one of them shouted.

Lacie stepped in front of them, blocking their path.

“Thanks, Lacie,” I whispered. I hurried out of the playground. I raced
through the strange neighborhood, trying to remember how to get home.

A few blocks from school I stopped to catch my breath.

No sign of the two guys. No sign of Lacie, either.

I hope she’s all right, I thought. They didn’t seem to want to hurt her.

They wanted to hurt
me.

But why?

The day before, a bully had said he wanted to get me after school.

But today, in my new, weird world, I hadn’t seen him. Neither of the guys in
black was that bully.

Just two
new
bullies.

I’ve got to get help, I realized.

I don’t know what’s happening. But it’s all too much for me. And it’s too
frightening. I hardly know who I am.

I drifted through the streets until I finally found my way home. “Mom” and
“Dad” were out. The front door was locked. I climbed in through the kitchen
window.

My real mother was gone. My brother and sister and even my dog were gone.

But there must be someone else I know, I thought. Somebody, somewhere, who
can help me.

Maybe my real mom went somewhere else. Maybe she’s visiting relatives or
something.

I decided to try Aunt Margaret and Uncle Andy. I dialed Aunt Margaret’s
number.

A man answered the phone.

“Uncle Andy!” I cried. “It’s me, Matt!”

The voice said, “Who is this?”

“Matt!” I repeated. “Your nephew!”

“I don’t know any Matt,” the man said gruffly. “You must have dialed the
wrong number.”

“No—Uncle Andy, wait!” I shouted.

“My name isn’t Andy,” the man snarled. He hung up.

I stared at the phone, stunned. The man didn’t sound like Uncle Andy at all.

I guess I
did
dial wrong, I thought. I tried the number again.

“Hello?” It was the same man again.

This time I tried a new approach. “Is Andy Amsterdam there, please?”

“You again! There’s no Andy here, kid,” the man said. “Wrong number.”

He slammed the phone in my ear.

I tried not to panic. But my hands were shaking.

I dialed information. “What listing, please?” the operator asked.

“Andrew Amsterdam,” I said.

“Checking,” said the operator.

A minute later she said, “I’m sorry. We have no listing under that name.”

“Maybe if I spell it for you,” I insisted. “A-m-s—”

“I’ve already checked, sir. There’s no one listed under that name.”

“Could you try Margaret Amsterdam, then?”

“There’s no one named Amsterdam listed at all, sir.”

My heart started racing as I hung up. This can’t be happening, I thought. There must be somebody I know, somewhere!

I won’t give up. I’ll try my cousin Chris.

I called Chris’ number. Someone else answered.

It was as if Chris didn’t exist. Or Uncle Andy, or my mother, or anybody I
knew.

How could my whole family disappear?

The only person I knew was Lacie. But I couldn’t call her.

I didn’t know her last name.

The front door opened. The woman who called herself my mother bustled in,
carrying shopping bags.

“Matt, darling! What are you doing home in the middle of the day?”

“None of your beeswax,” I snapped.

“Matt! Don’t be so rude!” she scolded.

I shouldn’t have been rude to her, I guess. But what difference did it make?
She wasn’t my real mother, anyway.

My real mother had disappeared off the face of the earth.

I shuddered. I realized I was totally alone in the world.

I didn’t know anyone—not even my parents!

“Bedtime, honey,” my fake mother chirped.

I’d been sitting in front of the TV all evening. Just staring, not even
really watching it.

Maybe I should stop thinking of these people as my fake parents, I realized.
They’re real enough now. I might be stuck with them forever.

I’ll find out in the morning, I thought as I trudged upstairs. My old room
was a sewing room now. I went back to the guest room to sleep.

“Good night, darling.” “Mom” kissed me goodnight. Why did she have to keep
kissing me?

She turned out the light and said, “See you in the morning.”

The morning. I dreaded the morning.

So far, each morning was weirder than the last. I was scared to go to sleep.

What would I wake up to?

It would be great if these fake parents of mine were gone. But who would take
their place?

Maybe I’d wake up and the whole world would be gone!

I struggled to stay awake. Please, I prayed. Please let everything be normal
again. I’d even be glad to have Greg and Pam back, if everything could only be
normal….

I must have fallen asleep. The next thing I knew, I opened my eyes—and it
was morning.

I lay perfectly still for a minute. Had anything changed?

I heard noises in the house. There were definitely other people here.

A
lot
of other people.

My heart started pounding. Oh, no, I thought. What am I in for this time?

I heard someone playing an accordion. That was a pretty sure sign my old
family wasn’t back.

But first things first. How old was I today?

I held my hands up in front of my face. They looked a little on the small
side.

I got up and went to the bathroom, trying not to panic. I was really getting
sick of this routine.

The mirror seemed higher than usual. I stared at my face.

I wasn’t twelve anymore, that was for sure. I looked about eight.

Eight, I thought, sighing.

That’s third grade. Well, at least I’ll be able to do the math. Suddenly, I
felt a sharp pain in my back. Ow! Claws! Tiny claws digging into my back! The
claws dug deeper. I screamed.

Something jumped on my back!

A tiny, hairy face appeared in the mirror. Some kind of animal was standing
on my shoulders!

“Get it off! Get it off!” I shrieked.

“Eeee! Eeee!” the animal screeched.

I ran into the hallway—and almost crashed into a huge man.

“Get this thing off me!” I cried.

The man plucked the animal off my shoulder. He laughed loud and deep, like an
evil Santa Claus.

“What’s wrong with you, Matt?” he boomed. “Scared of Pansy all of a sudden?”

Pansy? The man cuddled the animal in his arms. It was a monkey.

The man roughed up my hair. “Get dressed, boy. We got a rehearsal this
morning.”

Rehearsal? What was that supposed to mean?

I stared at the man. He was huge, with a round stomach, glossy black hair,
and a long mustache.

The weirdest part was what he wore: a bright red costume with gold trim and a
gold belt.

Oh, no! I thought, my heart sinking. This can’t be… my father?

From downstairs a woman’s voice screamed, “Grub!”

The man handed me a pile of clothes. “Put your costume on,” he said. “Then
come on down to breakfast—son.”

I knew it. He
was
my father. For today, at least. My “family” kept
getting worse every day.

“GRUUUUB!” the woman downstairs yelled again.

I guess that’s Mom, I thought miserably. She sounds like a real sweetheart.

Kids came pouring out of the other bedrooms. It seemed like there were dozens
of them, all different ages. But I counted, and there were only six.

I tried to get all the new facts straight. I was eight years old. I had six
brothers and sisters and a pet monkey. I hadn’t seen my mother yet, but my
father was a total wacko.

And I’ve got to wear some kind of freaky costume, I thought, holding up the
clothes the man had given me. It was a tight blue outfit, like a leotard. The
bottom part was blue with white stripes. The top had white stars.

What was that supposed to be? And what kind of rehearsal did I have?

Was I in a play or something?

I pulled on the costume. It fit me like a second skin. I felt like a total
jerk.

Then I went downstairs for breakfast.

The kitchen was a madhouse. The other kids laughed and shouted and threw
food. Pansy hopped around on the table, stealing bits of bacon.

A tall, thin woman piled pancakes on plates. She wore a long, purple,
sequined gown. A silver crown perched on top of her head.

My new mom.

“Hurry up and eat, Matt—before it’s all gone!” she shouted.

I grabbed a plate and started eating. I had to keep swatting Pansy away.