You're slicing up a block of tofu and have some vegetables stir frying when Mary arrives; it takes little prodding to get her to stay and have some of what you're fixing. You chat with her a bit as you finish prepping the meal and hand her a bowl that has a worm tucked in with the stir-fry.
She has no new news to report: no one from the base has been by the house or called with any more reports or questions for you family. Then you're inside her again, so smoothly that she barely pauses in mid swallow as you take her.
You finish eating in silence—the horrible mess is entirely to both girls' tastes—and are about to head out when there's another knock at the door. In answer to your shouted "Come in!" there enters a tall and rather gangly guy in a black t-shirt, red flannel shirt, and corduroy pants.
"Oh hey," you say, trying to place his name. He looks familiar, though he should, as he is clearly here on business connected to the upcoming protest. But you can't place him.
"Hey," he says. "I found a few more people who say they want to join, and I thought I'd better stop by to see if you're keeping a list."
"No, but thanks for thinking of it anyway. I probably should be keeping one," you reply. You look at him with interest even through Mary: something about him is jogging her memory, too. "How do you know these guys?"
"I have a philosophy class with them," he replies. "They're mostly into environmental stuff, but they've got a grudge against the people on the base because it butts up right next to a state park."
"Well, the more the merrier," you say. "Oh, by the way, this is Mary Johnson. It's her brother who's missing. But maybe you've already met her."
"No, I haven't." He holds out his hand. "I'm really sorry to hear about what happened. I wish we could do more. My name's David."
You give him a double take with both your bodies. That's why he seemed so familiar.
It's eerie. Not only does he share your given name, but he shares a striking resemblance to your old form: a mop of mousy brown hair, long limbs, a shy smile, and a tendency to duck his head and look up at people from beneath his eyebrows when talking. Only the brilliant green of his eyes sets him definitely apart. He could be a cousin of yours, even an older brother. You gape for a moment, and then stammer out an introduction of your own through Mary.
It appears that he doesn't really want to stay and talk, but you keep making up excuses and interruptions and digressions to keep him close at hand. Your mind is in a whirl of fleeting, half-glimpsed thoughts and possibilities, and you don't want him to disappear until you get them sorted out.
Finally, it comes to you: You lost your old body; why not take this one? True, he is already in college, but he's only a freshman, and barely a year older than you. He would be a strikingly natural home. More than that, maybe. Given the resemblance, and your new-found ability to possess multiple people, you might possess the rest of the people in your family and pass him off as yourself long enough for the military investigators to close off their case and stop wondering what happened to you.
View Portfolio
Visit Notebook
Send Gift Points
Awards
Badges
Send Email
Community Newsfeed
General Discussion
Sponsored Items
Book of Trinkets
Static Items
Books
Groups
Interactive Stories
Audio
Campfire Creatives
Community Notes
Crossword Puzzles
Documents
Folders
Images
In & Outs
Madlibs
Photo Albums
Polls
Product Reviews
Quizzes
Survey Forms
Web Pages
Word Searches
More by this author