Will You Be My Friend? (11 page)

“Of course,” said Elizabeth, smiling broadly. “We've got twenty-one more games to get through!”

“Thanks,” said Beth. “This was a really great day.”

“I think we're going to have lots more great days for a long time!” said Elizabeth. “See ya tomorrow.”

Beth ate her dinner, watched a little TV, then drifted off to sleep. She had had so much fun with Elizabeth that it never even occurred to her that her mother hadn't come to visit that day.

That night Beth slept deeply, dreamlessly, until something woke her up. It sounded like a distant voice calling to her, penetrating her sleep. As her mind cleared slightly, she realized where she was. She looked at the clock: 12:44 a.m. Then she discovered the source of the voice.

Sitting up, Beth could clearly hear two people yelling. They seemed to be right outside her room. She climbed carefully from her bed, threw on her robe and slippers, and went to the window that looked out into the hallway. She was stunned by what she saw.

There, standing in the hallway, was Dr. Snow. She was arguing with a girl who appeared, despite all logic to the contrary, to be Lizzie!

Beth froze. She desperately wanted to rush out into the hall, talk to Lizzie, and confirm once and for all that she was not crazy, that she truly did have a twin sister. But something held her back. She was intimidated by Dr. Snow and didn't want to interrupt her or get in trouble for butting in where she didn't belong.

Beth watched as an attendant rushed over to Lizzie, gently but firmly pulled her away from Dr. Snow, and led her down the hall. As Dr. Snow composed herself after an argument that had clearly shaken her, she glanced toward the window and caught Beth's eye.

Beth gasped and hurried back toward her bed.

Dr. Snow walked into the room.

“Are you all right, Beth?” Dr. Snow asked, as if nothing unusual had just happened. “What are you doing out of bed so late?”

“I was awakened by the yelling,” Beth blurted out.

“Yelling?” Dr. Snow said, sounding very surprised. “What do you mean?”

“Just now. Out in the hall. You and Lizzie were arguing.”

“Lizzie? Who's Lizzie?” Dr. Snow asked.

“That girl you were fighting with in the hallway,” Beth explained, stunned and a little annoyed that Dr. Snow was acting as if she had no idea what Beth was talking about. “You know, the girl who looks
exactly
like me!”

“I don't know what you mean,” said Dr. Snow in her most calm, professional tone. “I was just making my late-night rounds, looking in on some of the more critically ill patients.”

“I'm sorry, Dr. Snow,” Beth began, unable to disguise how upset she was. “Are you saying that you were not arguing with a girl in the hall just now? That I imagined all that? I'm obviously not dreaming, since I'm here talking to you.”

“Now, calm down, Beth,” said Dr. Snow, reaching into the pocket of her long, white coat and pulling out a syringe. “Sometimes patients can go a little loopy in the hospital. The technical term is ‘hospital psychosis.' They have weird dreams that they think are real, or imagine seeing things that didn't really happen.”

“That's not what this is!” Beth insisted.

“You're getting a little agitated, Beth,” said Dr. Snow. “I'm going to give you a little something to help you sleep. You'll feel better and see things more clearly after a good night's sleep.”

Before Beth could protest, Dr. Snow stuck a needle into her arm and gave her a shot.

Beth instantly felt drowsy. Dr. Snow helped her get back into bed. Beth mumbled something about Lizzie and then fell into a very deep sleep.

Beth opened her eyes slowly. She felt rested, better rested in fact than she had felt in a long time. Yawning, she stretched her arms and felt a pinch of pain up near her left shoulder.

The shot! Dr. Snow gave me a shot to help me sleep!

Memories of last night flooded back—the argument in the hall, seeing Lizzie, Dr. Snow denying that Beth had seen anything. It was all so very strange.

And that's when Beth noticed that she had been moved to a different room. This room looked much more like a girl's room in a house than a hospital room.

I must have really been out last night,
Beth thought.
But why was I moved? And where am I? Am I still in the hospital?

Looking around, Beth saw a second bed, covered by a pink bedspread with fuzzy pom-poms and tassels dangling off the edges. A shelf filled with dolls sat across from the bed. A small vanity with a mirror held makeup and hairbrushes. A guitar sat on a stand in the corner.

One whole side of the room was covered by curtains. Beth climbed out of her bed and pulled the cord that opened the curtains. They parted, revealing a wall with six photos. Each photo was of a girl who looked exactly like Beth, with her auburn hair and freckles. At first Beth thought each was a different photo of the same girl, but then she noticed the labels. Under each photo was a number and the name of a different girl. In order from one to six they read: Liza, Betty, Bess, Liz, Lizzie . . . and Beth.

Beth gaped at the pictures as she tried to grasp at their meaning. It was more like looking into a series of mirrors than photos. The pictures made her think of all the dreams she'd had recently involving mirrors and multiple images of herself.

Baffled and curious, Beth reached out and touched the first photo.

Suddenly Beth's mind flooded with images—memories and experiences that felt as if they had happened to her, vivid feelings, smells, strong memories.

She was at a beach. She could feel the wind whipping through her hair, smell the salt water and French fries, hear the sound of a baseball game coming out of a nearby radio and waves crashing against the shore.

She let go of the photo and was instantly back in the room, stunned and a bit out of breath.

What was that?
she wondered, at once fascinated and terrified. Her curiosity quickly overcame her fear. Beth reached out and touched the next photo. Again she was overwhelmed by a flood of memories.

This time she was riding a mountain bike down a twisting, bumpy dirt road that wrapped around the side of a steep mountain. She felt the wind in her face and the sensation of extremely fast movement coupled with a palpable sense of danger.

Suddenly Beth saw another rider out of the corner of her eye, drifting toward her, edging her closer to the cliff side of the bike path.

“Look out!” she cried, not completely sure whether she had actually screamed or just screamed in the vision in her head. But either way she found herself bouncing and rolling toward the cliff.

The other bike came closer, pushing Beth right over the edge. She tumbled toward a canyon below—

—and yanked her hand from the photo with such force that she stumbled backward and fell.

So real,
she thought.
What kind of power do these pictures have?

Fighting the pain in her rib, Beth climbed back onto her feet and touched the third photo.

Her mind spun in confusion. Nothing made sense. She couldn't put a coherent thought together. Then everything went black as if she had suddenly lost her vision. She stumbled helplessly, banging into walls and crashing into furniture. She quickly let go of the photo and returned to the room she was in.

There was something so exhilarating about this exercise that despite the unpleasant memories some of the photos contained, Beth felt compelled to touch each one.

She touched the fourth photo and her mind went almost completely blank. She stared at the wallpaper in a tiny room and began counting the flowers in the pattern. When she reached one hundred, she started again.

Beth took her hand off picture number four and touched picture number five. She found herself in a crowded, noisy school cafeteria. Looking up, she spotted a banner for the school basketball team. It read: “Go Glenside Tigers!”

Beth was stunned that for some reason she was experiencing a memory of going to Glenside Middle School.

That's when a tall, skinny girl with long, straight brown hair stepped up to her.

“Hey, Lizzie,” said the girl. “Do you want to eat lunch with me today?”

Beth looked up and recognized the girl as Alice, Chrissy's cousin, the one who went to Glenside, who thought that Beth looked like some girl named Lizzie, the Lizzie whose memory Beth was now obviously experiencing.

She let go of the photo, trying desperately to put the pieces together. It still all made no sense.

One more photo. No point in stopping now.

She touched the sixth photo. Nothing happened. She took her finger away, then touched the photo again. Still nothing.

Why doesn't this one trigger any memories?
she wondered.

“That one's you,” said a familiar voice coming from behind her.

Beth spun around and saw Elizabeth.

“Elizabeth!” Beth cried, throwing her arms around her friend. “I am so glad to see you!”

“I planned to be here when you woke up,” Elizabeth said. “Sorry about that.”

“Where am I?” asked Beth.

“My room,” Elizabeth replied simply.

“What do you mean, your room?” Beth asked. “Are we still in the hospital? This doesn't look like a hospital room.”

Elizabeth smiled. “This is a special room in the hospital that my mom set up for me,” she explained. “She spends so much time here that she wanted me to be able to stay over and still feel like I had my own space. My mom suggested moving you in here because she thought that you would be more comfortable, since you and I get along so well.”

Beth was about to ask Elizabeth about the photos, but Elizabeth wasn't finished. “Listen, Beth, I want to apologize. I'm really sorry that fight between me and my mom woke you up last night. I really wish you hadn't seen that.”

“What are you talking about?” said Beth. “I didn't see you. I saw someone who looks exactly like
me
.”

Elizabeth smiled and lifted her hand up to her head. In one swift motion she pulled a black wig off. A mane of auburn hair tumbled down around her shoulders. She pulled a washcloth from a drawer in her vanity and wiped the pale makeup off her face, revealing freckles, tons of them, just like Beth had. Then she kicked off the high platform shoes she'd been wearing and put on a pair of slippers, making her exactly the same height as Beth.

And for about the millionth time since this whole craziness began, Beth found herself staring at someone who looked exactly like her.

“Lizzie?” gasped Beth.

“No. It's still me . . . Elizabeth,” Elizabeth answered. “And that was me you saw last night, Beth. And the night before. And yes, I look exactly like you! Or, to be perfectly accurate, you look exactly like me!”

Beth stumbled back, away from Elizabeth. She bumped into the side of the bed and sat down. Her head was spinning.

“I—I don't understand,” she mumbled. “What's going on?”