B22C22 - Saddler Morph

Jake and I stepped back from the crowd. No one noticed. No one cared. They had a miracle to witness.

"You think David morphed Saddler?" I asked Jake.

"I know he did. Days back, I mentioned Saddler to all of you. I saw his eyes kind of light up. I didn't think much of it at the time. Besides, we were kind of busy."

I nodded. "He needed a life. David's family are Controllers and he needed a place to go, to sleep, to eat. But it's just a morph. If he stays in it more than two hours at a time he's stuck, and he'll lose his morphing power permanently."

"All he has to do is go the bathroom, demorph, remorph, and he's good for another two hours. And take a look at his parents. You think they're going to notice, or care, if Saddler is suddenly very different than he has been?"

He was right. Saddler's parents thought they were losing a son. Now he was back. Alive.

A miracle.

So maybe his memory was a little impaired. Maybe he didn't remember his friends or his favorite food. He'd be different, but that was to be expected, with what he'd gone through. And anyway, Saddler always had been a jerk. David should be able to play the role.

What could his family even possibly suspect him of? Being a morph? Obviously not. Then something awful occurred to me.

"Saddler. . . where's Saddler? The real one?"

Jake looked grim. "I guess we'll have to ask David, won't we?"

I looked at Saddler. There was a momentary gap in the gaggle around him. He saw us. We saw him. His look was pure triumph.

Then the wall of people closed around him again. I was not even slightly surprised when, an hour later, Saddler said he had to go to the bathroom. By himself. He was fine, perfectly fine. Everyone should stop worrying.

He passed deliberately by Jake and me.

"Cousin Jake! Cousin Rachel! I'm glad you're here. Really, really glad."

For a brief moment, no one else was within hearing. "You won't get away with this," I said.

"I won't? I already have. And what are you two going to do? The real Saddler was toast. Now those nice people have their son back. So what are you going to do about it?" He started to walk away, then turned back, as if he had some funny secret to impart. "I'll take the blue box, cousins. Bring it to me. You have twenty-four hours. Starting now."

He laughed, loudly enough for all to hear. So they all laughed, too, giddy from the fact that unbearable tragedy had missed them.

Jake and I plastered smiles on our faces. But we both felt sick inside.

David had beaten us.