Even though the thermostat in Gigi’s bedroom was set to a balmy eighty-five, Ali couldn’t stop shivering. She had no idea what was about to happen. What if she couldn’t change again? Or worse . . . what if she shouldn’t stop changing?
Gigi sat on her bed with her back resting against the headboard. Ali was stationed at the opposite end. Ali’s mother was downstairs cleaning up the kitchen and would join them soon. Meanwhile, Digger paced. Several minutes passed before he paused and spoke to Ali.
“You get to choose who or what you turn into tonight. When I was learning how to use my powers, I liked to pretend I was someone famous.”
Gigi chuckled. “It was odd, walking into a room and finding Abraham Lincoln sprawled on the couch watching cartoons. Of course, it was odder still when Abraham Lincoln spoke and sounded like Digger.”
“You can’t mimic someone unless you know what they sound like,” Digger explained. “I don’t know what Lincoln sounds like.”
The story would be funny if Ali wasn’t so nervous. She weighed her Copycat options. If she turned into a dog, it would seem like she was copying Digger. A squirrel was out of the question. She considered Walter Pidgeon but didn’t want Gigi making gooey eyes at her. There were so many choices it was impossible to decide.
“I don’t know what to change into,” she confessed.
Gigi nodded, as if this was to be expected. “Turn into me. No one’s ever turned into me before. It’ll be fun.” She settled against her pillows and waited.
Ali turned to Digger. “What do I do?”
“Concentrate on her features, imagine yourself becoming her,” said Digger.
It was unnerving to stare so hard, but Gigi’s encouraging smile made her relax into the task. Ali studied Gigi as if she were memorizing facts for a test: every crinkle and wrinkle; the connect-the-dot age spots; the blue veins that pushed their way above the skin’s surface; the fuzzy white hair that reminded Ali of the fiberfill she’d used in third grade to make pretend snow for a diorama; the specks of black in her pale gray irises.
At first nothing happened. Then the same warm tingle she’d felt when she’d stared at Cassie filled her. She didn’t need to look to know her body was transforming; the soft crunch of muscles and bones expanding and contracting, and her back curving itself into a hump told her it was happening. The strangest moment was when her clothes morphed from jeans and a sweater into Gigi’s purple velour track suit. The only difference between Ali and Gigi was the baby finger on her left hand. It was decidedly Ali’s, a smooth outlier in a body covered in wrinkles.
“What do you think?” Gigi’s voice asked from Ali’s body.
Gigi clapped. “Remarkable!” She leaned forward and took one of Ali’s wizened hands. “It’s not easy being almost one hundred, is it?”
Ali wanted to agree, but didn’t want to be rude. She held up her unaltered pinky finger. “Why didn’t this change?”
“Copycats are never fully someone else,” Digger explained. “There’s always something a little off. I’d say you were a natural. Now let’s see how fast you can turn back. It’s the reverse of what you did when you turned into Gigi. This time, you think of yourself.”
It sounded easier, but it wasn’t. Ali tried her best to picture her real self, but it was like the Gigi parts of her didn’t want to change back. A wave of panic rolled through her.
“Breathe,” said Digger, sensing her fear. He grabbed a photograph of Ali off Gigi’s table and passed it to her. “Look at this girl. Remember what it’s like to be her, and you’ll turn back.”
Ali followed his instructions. Bit by bit, the wrinkles smoothed themselves, her spine straightened, and the protruding veins receded. A few minutes later she was herself again, though her forehead and back were slick with sweat.
ALI’S RULES FOR BEING A COPYCAT
“It’s not easy to turn back when you’re first learning,” said Digger. “That’s why it’s so important to practice.”
Ali voiced the fear that had held her hostage since debate team. “How do I not turn into other people at school?”
“The key is to focus on being yourself and remembering who you are,” said Gigi. “Don’t think too much about other people. Otherwise, you’ll start to change.”
Ali’s eyes bugged; that was pretty much all she did at school.
Digger leaned down so he was looking straight at her. “It sounds weird, but Copycats need to always be themselves.”
“But you spend half your day as a dog!”
“Yes, because I need to.”
“But why do you need to?” she pressed.
Digger stood up. “I just do.” It was clear that subject was closed. “When you go to school tomorrow, focus on your thoughts, your memories. Don’t worry about anyone else. If you start to feel like you’re about to change, go to the washroom until the feeling passes. It doesn’t last long if you haven’t changed.”
Gigi jumped in. “In the beginning, you’ll be like a foal learning to walk, Alison. Everything will feel awkward. But the most important thing to remember is to not use your powers against other people or for gain.”
“What does that mean?”
“Some of us use our abilities for personal gain or for horrible reasons. And we have more than our fair share of thieves. There is a rumor that Jack the Ripper was a Copycat.”
The hair on the back of Ali’s arms stood up.
“It’s a lot to take in,” said Digger, anxious to change the subject. “In the end, we have to live by the same rules as Constants: be kind, don’t hurt other people, and don’t take what you don’t need. And for your own safety, don’t let anyone know you have these abilities.”
“But you told Mom when you met her.”
“Not for quite a while, and not until I was sure I could trust her. People can’t always be trusted. . . .” His voice trailed off.
Ali sensed there was an untold story, but given Digger’s personality, it was unlikely she’d ever learn what had happened. It occurred to her that she didn’t need to know the details. Just thinking of the horrified expression on Cassie’s face was proof enough that Digger was right. But she wouldn’t dwell on that tonight. Not when she’d just discovered that her new skills were also fun. She was itching to change into something else. “Can I turn into something and show Mom?”
Digger beamed.
Ten minutes later, Hermione Granger and her dog joined Ali’s mother in the kitchen.
“What am I going to do with you two?” her mother asked. “I am now officially outnumbered in this house.”
Gigi, who had hobbled down behind Ali and Digger, shook her head. “Nope—it’s even steven, Ginger. I haven’t changed in years.”
Ali morphed back. “Don’t worry, Mom. I don’t think I’m going to be running around as someone else all the time like Digger does.”
Her mother reached down to stroke Digger the dog’s head. “Oh, he’s not so bad.”
Afraid things were about to get mushy, Ali offered to help Gigi back to her room. She had so many questions, questions she probably should have asked Digger years ago, and she knew she’d be more successful getting answers from Gigi.
“Why do you think we have these powers?” she asked when she’d settled Gigi in bed.
Gigi patted the spot next to her. “Do you have enough energy for a good story? I know it can be tiring when a Copycat first learns how to use their powers.”
Ali dropped onto the bed and cuddled up to Gigi. “Is this a true story or make-believe?”
“I guess that depends upon the person hearing the story. Once upon a time . . .”