It didn't take our party long to realize Kalmar the Bloody had been replaced. His doppelganger spoke less and listened more. He was slow to anger and quick to apologize when he gave offence. He even stopped claiming every piece of treasure for the massive iron-bound chest his warhorse carted along behind it.
One night at the campfire, after the impostor had excused himself to his tent, our party shared a moment of silent eye contact over the crackling flames. A round of nods. A wordless pact.
We like the new Kalmar. He's easy to get along with. The only awkward part is ignoring the pounding coming from inside the locked chest.
One night at the campfire, after the impostor had excused himself to his tent, our party shared a moment of silent eye contact over the crackling flames. A round of nods. A wordless pact.
We like the new Kalmar. He's easy to get along with. The only awkward part is ignoring the pounding coming from inside the locked chest.
“I’m sorry,” I said, voice very loud. “I know this must be incredibly difficult for you. After all, let’s be honest about the fact that you always liked Essa four-one-two better than me. And if he was here now, then you can bet I wouldn’t be talking about yeerks in front of everyone.”
Dad’s eyes went wide with hurt. “That’s not true. You know that’s not—”
“Dad, Dad.” I was still maintaining that falsely bright tone, even though my hands were shaking. “My ears were working just fine, even if I couldn’t communicate worth a damn. I heard all those times when you told me how much more mature I’d gotten, how the Sharing had been such a good influence.”
He put a hand on my arm and stared forcibly steering me out of the room. I gave a cheery wave to everyone who was staring at us on my way out the door.
“It must be so rough for you, having that old disappointment of a kid back,” I drawled as he dragged me halfway down the hallway. “You know, the shallow one, who only cares about basketball and girls instead of giving back to the community. So trust me, I understand why you’d rather I went back to being seen and not heard.”
Dad’s eyes went wide with hurt. “That’s not true. You know that’s not—”
“Dad, Dad.” I was still maintaining that falsely bright tone, even though my hands were shaking. “My ears were working just fine, even if I couldn’t communicate worth a damn. I heard all those times when you told me how much more mature I’d gotten, how the Sharing had been such a good influence.”
He put a hand on my arm and stared forcibly steering me out of the room. I gave a cheery wave to everyone who was staring at us on my way out the door.
“It must be so rough for you, having that old disappointment of a kid back,” I drawled as he dragged me halfway down the hallway. “You know, the shallow one, who only cares about basketball and girls instead of giving back to the community. So trust me, I understand why you’d rather I went back to being seen and not heard.”
—Back to the Future (an Animorphs fanfiction)
