Margaret Haddix: Among the Imposters

Luke tried to pretend those weren’t obstacles. He still couldn’t picture a perfect homecoming.

Even if he managed to find his family’s farm without running into the Population Police first, he’d just be bringing danger with him. The penalties for harboring an illegal child were almost as harsh as the penalty for being an illegal child. Every second he’d lived with his parents, he’d put their lives in jeopardy. And now there was a record of his existence. If he disappeared now, someone would have to look for him. And when they found him, cowering in his family’s attic, they’d be sure to find out the truth as well.

Luke picked up a pebble and threw it far into the woods. It wasn’t fair. His only choices were to be miserable at school or a virtual murderer at home. He threw another pebble, and another. Not fair, not fair, not fair. He ran out of pebbles and switched to bark chips, peeled off the log beside him. Some of the pebbles and bark chips hit tree trunks with a satisfying thud. Luke began aiming.

“Take that!” he yelled, forgetting himself.

Then, terrified, he clapped his hand over his mouth. How could he be so stupid?

He froze, listening so hard, his ears began to buzz. But there was no sound of anyone tramping through the woods looking for him. There was no sound from the school at all. Peering around at the ferns and the trees and the sunlight filtering through the branches, Luke could practically convince himself the school didn’t exist at all.

It was a shame he couldn’t just stay here.

Luke had a moment of hope — he could live on nuts and berries. He could hide in the trees whenever they came looking for him.

But that was a childish plan. He dismissed it immediately. If he stayed in the woods, he’d be caught or starve.

He glanced around again, this time regretfully. The trees looked friendlier than any of the boys or teachers at schools. He was a farm boy who’d spent most of his life outdoors, until the woods were cut down behind his house. Just being outside was a joy. And no matter how much he’d risked, running out here, it was wonderful to be alone, not packed in and watched at every turn.

Luke dug the toe of his fancy Baron shoe into the dirt and stood up. He’d come to a decision without realizing it. He had to go back to school. He owed it to his family, and Jen’s dad, and maybe even Jen herself.

But nothing could stop him from visiting the woods again.

Luke put off returning to school as long as possible. His stomach growled and he ignored it. The angle of the sun’s rays grew sharper and sharper, but he consoled himself, “It’s still daylight. It just starts looking like twilight sooner, when you’re deep in the woods.”

Finally he could ignore the truth no longer. It was getting dark. And even if nobody had noticed his absence so far, he’d be missed at bedtime. Jackal boy was sure to complain if Luke wasn’t there for him to pick on.

Strangely, that thought almost made him feel good.

Luke didn’t stop to figure that one out. He strode to the edge of the woods, looked around carefully, then took off running across the lawn.

Halfway to the school, he was struck by a horrible thought: What if the door was locked?

A few steps later, he was close enough to tell: The door wasn’t open anymore. It wasn’t even ajar.

Luke dashed even faster across the lawn, as if he could outrun his panic. His heart pounded, and it wasn’t just from running. He’d been so stupid, going out the door in the first place. Or, if he’d had to step outside, why hadn’t he gone back right away? Why had he risked everything for a day in the woods?

He knew why.

Luke was finally close enough to touch the doorknob. He reached out with a trembling hand, prepared for the worst.

Stay calm, stay calm, he told himself. If it’s locked, maybe you can find another door that works. Maybe you can still slip back in undetected. Maybe. . Luke didn’t have much faith in “maybes.”

Hopelessly, he twisted the knob.

The knob turned easily.

Barely daring to believe his luck, Luke pulled the door open a crack. He couldn’t see anyone, so he slid in and let the door close behind him. It was dark at this end of the hall. He appreciated the shadows.

Luke was tiptoeing past vacant classrooms when he heard the shout.

“Hey! What are you doing down here?”

It was one of the hall monitors.

“I–I got lost,” Luke said, not stammering any more than he would have under normal circumstances. And the excuse was entirely plausible — hadn’t he been lost a million times so far at school? But he didn’t know what he was missing. Supper? The evening lecture? Lights out?

The hall monitor peered at him suspiciously

“Nobody’s supposed to be in this wing of the building right now,’ he said. “Why did you leave the dining hail?” Luke got a sudden inspiration.

“I got sick,’ he said. “I ran out to go to the bathroom. Then I got lost when I was going back”.

The hall monitor looked skeptical.

“The bathroom’s right across from the dining hall,’ he said.

“I–I wasn’t paying attention. I’m new. I was sick.” Luke tried to look dumb enough — and queasy enough — to have made such a stupid mistake.

The hall monitor took a step back, like he didn’t want to catch anything.

“Okay,’ he relented. “Go back immediately”.

Relieved, Luke turned to go. Then he stopped. Only the day before, he would have obeyed unthinkingly But now he had a secret to protect. Now he had to be crafty He turned back to the monitor.

“I don’t know how to get there. Remember?’

“Oh, for crying out loud. Why do I have to baby-sit all the leckers?’ He took Luke’s arm and jerked him to the right “Go that way Thin left at the first hallway then left and right again. Just get out of here!”

The hall monitor sounded a little panicked himself The day before, Luke wouldn’t have noticed, but now he had to pay attention. Something about that door, Luke thought Why is the hail monitor so desperate to get me away from it?

Luke was still pondering that question when he reached the doors to the dining hall. They burst open, and boys streamed out. Luke’s timing was perfect He’d gotten there just as everyone was heading toward the evening lecture. He blended in. See, Mr. Talbot? he thought bitterly I am following the only bit of advice you saw fit to give me. Aren’t you proud? Mighty generous of you, I’m sure.

But some of Luke’s bitterness had eased. The note had been worthless, but he had the woods to think about now. And if the note had led him to the woods — well, he did have reason to be grateful to Jen’s dad, didn’t he?

Nobody challenged Luke as he walked into the lecture room and sat down. Nobody asked, “Where have you been all day?’ Nobody ordered him, “Never leave this building again!’

He’d gotten away with it. He could get away with it again.

Luke longed to race straight to the woods as soon as he woke up the next morning. It was torture to stand patiently beside all the other boys, splashing water on his face. It was torture to sit still and slowly spoon in the lumpy oatmeal, when he longed to gulp it down and get out of there. (Though, since he’d missed two meals the day before, it was amazing how delicious the oatmeal seemed for once.) It was torture waiting for the cafeteria doors to open and release everyone else to classes, and Luke to the woods.

As soon as breakfast was over, he took off, all but running. Surprisingly, given how confused he usually got in the Hendricks halls, he managed to make a beeline straight for the door, without once making a wrong turn and having to retrace his steps. Approaching the door, he slowed down, waiting for the crowd to clear in the hall. Finally, there was only Luke and a hall monitor, several yards away The door wasn’t open today, but Luke was confident that it wasn’t locked. He was confident that he could slip out quickly enough. He glanced back. The monitor was looking the other way. Now! Luke reached for the doorknob—