The Call - Michael Grant [17]
“I don’t understand any of that,” the golem said.
Mack grabbed the golem’s arm and stared hard into the face that was just like his own. “You need to tell me whatever you know.”
The golem shrugged. “I was made to replace you.”
“And I need replacing why, again?”
“Because you are leaving.”
“And where am I going?”
“Everywhere.”
“Aaaarrrgghhh!” Mack yelled in frustration. He had missed his bus. He needed to get to school. He needed to figure out what to do with Clay Boy. He needed to avoid getting bitten to death by snakes. And he was wishing he’d had the Breakfast Pocket because the Toaster Strudel hadn’t really filled him up.
“Okay, look,” Mack said. “I have to go. You stay away from my folks. Go sit in my room. Do not talk to anyone or answer the door. Will you do exactly what I’ve just told you?”
“Would you do what you were told?”
Mack’s expression darkened. “Oh, it’s like that, is it?”
“I am made in your image,” the golem pointed out.
Feeling far less than happy, Mack left and headed for school. He slipped in unnoticed just as the bell rang and kids came pouring out of their homerooms on their way to the next stop on the day-long March of Boredom.
“Yo,” Stefan said.
Mack was still not used to the idea that he was now under Stefan’s wing. His first gut reaction was to run. But that would probably have hurt Stefan’s feelings.
“Hey, Stefan,” Mack said.
“Where you going?”
“Math.”
“Cool. Let’s roll.”
Mack frowned. “You’re not in my math class, Stefan.”
“I am now.”
“But…can you do that?”
“Yes,” Stefan said with absolute confidence. And Mack could see his point. Whatever class he was skipping out on, the teacher would be glad to see him go, while the math teacher was not likely to pick a fight with Stefan.
“Fair enough,” Mack said. “I have to take a leak first.”
“Boys’ room? Or you want to use the teachers’ lounge?”
“The regular boys’ room will be fine,” Mack said, although he was beginning to see that there might be some definite advantages to this new relationship with Stefan.
They went to the boys’ room, which was moderately full of kids.
“Empty,” Stefan said to them, and jerked his chin toward the door.
There was the sound of zippers hastily drawn up and water flushing. In twenty seconds Mack had the boys’ room to himself.
“You don’t have to do that,” Mack said. But the truth was, he kind of enjoyed it. He disliked doing his business in crowds.
Then the light in the boys’ room changed.
“What’s happening?”
Stefan shrugged. “Light got weird. Like the other day, kinda.”
“Uh-oh,” Mack said.
The new light seemed to have a more specific source this time. In fact, it came from the shiny chrome pipe above the urinal.
There was a face in the pipe. The face of the old, old man with the bad smell. It was hard to tell whether he had brought his bad smell with him since this was, after all, the boys’ room and had its own distinctive aromas.
“You!” Mack said, accusing.
“Can you see me?” the ancient man asked.
“Yes, I can see you. Stefan, can you see him?”
Stefan looked over Mack’s shoulder and nodded. He seemed amazingly calm, as if this kind of thing happened all the time. “You want me to smash it?”
“No,” Mack said.
“Have you seen the golem?” the ancient creature asked in his dry-leaves voice.
“Yeah. And the snakes,” Mack snapped.
“I know not of snakes.”
“Yeah, well, I know of them,” Mack shot back. “Some old dude in green stuck ’em in my window. They bit all over the golem.”
The ancient’s eyebrows shot up. The effect was particularly odd since the round chrome surface exaggerated every expression. “This is very bad news.”
“Yeah, I thought so, too,” Mack said.
“The forces of the Dread Foe are already aware of you.”
“Okay. I don’t have any dread foes,” Mack said.
“He’s under my wing,” Stefan added belligerently.
“You have foes of which you dream not,” the old man rasped. “Foes which, if you only knew of them, your blood would freeze