Double Identity by Haddix Margaret Peterson

Author:Haddix, Margaret Peterson [Haddix, Margaret Peterson]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: Simon & Schuster Books for Young Readers
Published: 2008-06-19T16:00:00+00:00

TWENTY-TWO

When I wake up the next morning, I find Joss puttering around in the kitchen. But Myrlie is missing.

“She went on in to work, since I’d be here with you today,” Joss says casually. “She’s got one kid in her class she’s really worried about—she didn’t think he’d do well, having another day with a sub. You don’t mind, do you?”

I know I’m supposed to say, “No, that’s all right. It doesn’t matter.” I’m supposed to remember that Myrlie had a life before I showed up on her doorstep, that she’s responsible for an entire classroom of kindergarteners. She’s not actually supposed to be responsible for me. My parents are. And it’s not like she’s left me alone. Joss is a perfectly acceptable substitute. She’s an adult too, however much she may clown around. She’s a minister, for God’s sake.

Still, I want to say, childishly, “I do mind. Make her come home. Now.”

If that kind of strategy worked, I would have gotten Mom and Dad back, I’d be home in Pennsylvania, I’d know the answers to all the questions I’ve wanted to ask ever since I arrived in Illinois.

I grunt noncommittally and reach into the cereal cupboard.

“I had some of the leftover chocolate cake for breakfast, myself,” Joss says. “I know Mom and Aunt Hillary would be horrified, but, hey, they’re not here. Want some?”

“No, thanks,” I say. I notice a box of instant oatmeal beyond the cereal. I grab it instead. Moments later, I’ve just taken my first bite when I realize Joss is staring at me. I lower my spoon.

“Elizabeth loved oatmeal, too, didn’t she?” I say miserably. Myrlie’s exact words ring belatedly in my head: She’d choose it over chocolate. And now that’s just what I’ve done.

Joss nods slowly.

“What do you say we put a moratorium on Elizabeth talk today?” she says. “Pretend she never existed?”

“Sounds good to me,” I say.

“That is, unless you want to bring her up, as a topic of conversation,” Joss says. She hesitates. “What do you think about your parents? Do you want to make them off-limits too?”

I think about this. Joss knew my parents twenty years ago, when they were Walter and Hillary Krull, so she might be able to provide some insight I don’t have. But Walter and Hillary Krull were Elizabeth’s parents, not mine.

“They’re verboten too,” I say. For a second I think Joss might want to comment on my choice of words, maybe mention that verboten was one of Elizabeth’s favorites too. But Joss only shrugs.

“Fine by me,” she says. “Any other ground rules you think we ought to have?”

We discuss all sorts of restrictions, even ridiculous ones, like banning any mention of SpongeBob SquarePants. I can see what Joss is doing, trying to make me feel like I have some sort of power, some small sense of control. But seeing through her ploy doesn’t make it any less effective. I can’t summon my parents back, I can’t make the phone ring, I can’t understand why my last name is Cole when my sister’s last name was Krull.

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