Chapter Text
The taxi sped through the city streets, as I longed to do on foot. Instead, I had a caseworker breathing down my neck, constantly threatening to send me back to 'Juvie'. There was no way that place was a legit detention center. So in order to avoid going back to literal torture, I played the good boy and didn't jump out of the moving car like last week when Marie tried to get me into a foster home. There was one last home willing to take in a known thief, demolitionist, and runaway. A Jewish family with three sons of their own to put up with. Whatever possessed them to take me in was a mystery. Luckily for them, I wasn't planning on staying.
"Thomas, are you even listening to me?" My head falls back onto the leather seat, my hand on my chest where my cross used to be. "Not really. I find most of what you say repetitive and unhelpful." She sighs and slumps in her seat, one hand rubbing her forehead. "I was saying that if this doesn't work I can't prevent it any further. You-"
" '-will be going back to Juvie. Is that what you want? To be locked back up blah blah blah.' That sounds close to what you were going to say?" Her eyes close and she composes herself for a moment. "Thomas I'm just looking out for you. I don't want you to go back any more than you want to go. I understand that particular center was..."
"Inhumane?"
"Difficult, for you." She sits up straight as we pull into what I assume was the foster family's home. A two-story suburban townhouse painted a painfully dull beige stood in front of us. The door opened to reveal a woman and her husband, both with deep brunette hair. Marie had told me their surname at one point. Kazinski? Kaplow? Whatever. The taxi unlocks and I hopped out as quickly as I could, swinging my raggedy backpack onto my shoulder. I pat my jeans for my phone and wallet before closing the taxi door behind me and surveying the area. In either direction were several identical townhouses in varying shades of beige, pale ass blue, and sickly green. The row of houses on the other side of the street was more of the same.
Marie came up behind me and set her hand on my shoulder. I flinch but I'd long since given up on getting her to stop doing that. She practically pushed me towards the couple at the door. "Mr. and Mrs. Kaplan! What a pleasure to meet you." She shook their hands.
"You must be Marie, Thomas' Caseworker." Mrs. Kaplan grinned. Her husband eyed me closely, as though expecting me to bolt already. Smart guy. We shook hands silently. Mrs. Kaplan turned her attention to me. "Thomas- oh..." She hesitated for a solid minute, staring at me like I was a ghost. “Can I help you?” I asked accusingly. She shook her thoughts away and continued. "or do you prefer Tommy?" I was taken aback by the question. I was rarely asked that. I usually had to demand to be called Tommy, and often I was ignored. "Er, yeah, actually. I do prefer Tommy." Her smile brightened back up. "Then, Tommy, Welcome home." She pulled me into a hug before I could refuse, leaving me with my arms awkwardly at my side. "Do we have any more paperwork to fill out?" Mr. Kaplan asked. Marie shook her head and assured them everything was in order.
She pulled me aside. "Thomas... If you run away it won't be me chasing you down this time. It'll be the police, and you'll be right back where you started. Please, PLEASE try to make this work." I didn't meet her eyes. I gave her a hard time but she was often the only one who treated me like a person, not a convict. "Yeah, I get it." She tried to smile but it was broken. "I know you do. Take care of yourself." She hesitated before climbing back into the taxi and driving away. I was fairly certain that would be the last I'd see of her.
I stepped back towards the Kaplans. "Come in dear." Mrs. Kaplan opened the door and led me in, her husband following us, blocking my only way out. We entered with the kitchen and dining area in front of us and the living room to the right. The twins I heard about sat playing Need For Speed on an old GameCube. I Smirked at the familiar game. On the couch was their other son, my age, laying down and on his phone. "Your foster brother is here boys." Mrs. Kaplan said, her hand on my shoulder. I pulled away sharply, and she folded her hands in front of her instead. The twins jump to their feet, abandoning their game to run over to me. They couldn't have been older than ten. Their brother just waves without looking up from his phone. The twins crowded me and started spit-balling questions at a million miles a second. It was near impossible to tell who asked what.
"What's your name? Why is your hair white? How old are you? Did your parents die? Where's your stuff? Why do you look like Billy? Have you been to prison? What's your favorite color?"
Their mother pulled them away from me. "Ben, Simeon, give the poor boy space. Nobody can even understand what you’re saying. I'm sorry about them Tom-"
"I got this." I crouched in front of them. "My name's Tommy. My hair's white ‘cause the color melted away. I’m 15. One of them died, yes. My stuff's right here." I place my bag in front of them. "I've been to Juvie, which is like Prison but for kids, and my favorite color is the same blue as my hoodie." I pulled at the old cloth. "Now who's Billy?"
The other son shifted to a sitting position. "I am. Did they say you look like-" He turned to face me and we both freeze, locked in eye contact. The complete stranger was identical to me. Save for the color of our hair and eyes there wasn't a single crease we didn't share.
"What the fuck...." We said in unison. We both stood and approached one another in disbelief. I had to resist the urge to reach out and ensure he was real. We both turned to his parents, our eyes demanding an explanation.
His mom raised her hands in surrender. "Don't look at me boys, I'm as lost as you. But Doppelgangers aren't unheard of." She lowered her hands and smiled warmly. "I'm sure it's just a sign of how well he'll fit in." I can't help but laugh. "Hate to disappoint lady but I doubt that." Her smile faded into a concerned stare. "Why's that?" I shift uncomfortably. "I find most people aren't fond of my presence." I shrug. "It's whatever though." She sighed lightly but didn't press further. "Well come on, let me show you around." I leave the clone behind and follow Mrs. Kaplan around the house.
To the left of the front door was the master bedroom and downstairs bathroom. The backyard was accessible through a large glass sliding door in the dining room. To the right of it was stairs into a basement. Closer to the living room were the stairs to the second floor. "At the end of the hall is the bathroom. The first door on the right is the twin's, the one just beyond that is Billy's, and across from that-" She led me over and opened the door to a small room with a slanted ceiling. There was an old desk with a mirror in the corner of the room, a bed underneath a window in the center of the room, and a closet to the right. The pale paint was peeling, and a clock was failing at hiding a hole in the wall. I walked in and even the windowsill was shabby, bits of metal poking out as it cracked in places. "it's a bit run down, but we can fix it up." Mrs. Kaplan assured me.
"It looks like it's been abandoned..." Just like me. I smiled lightly. "Don't worry about it. It's perfect."