Who Cloned the President? (2 page)

She charged into her bedroom and dumped the school stuff out of her backpack. She tossed in the snacks, a flashlight, her Swiss Army knife, and a tape recorder. At the last minute, she opened her bank and took out a fistful of money.

She grabbed a jacket, said good-bye to her kittens, then let herself out of the apartment.

Donald opened the elevator door. “Going out again, KC?”

“Me and Marshall are doing some research for our reports,” she said.

It’s not a total lie
, thought KC. She paced as she waited for Marshall in the lobby.

When he showed up with his backpack, KC dragged him outside.

“Did you bring the spiders?” she asked, heading toward the bus stop.

“Yeah, but where are we going?”

“To help the president. He needs us.”

Marshall stopped walking. “KC, I’ve known you practically my whole life. But you’re acting weird. Why does the president need two fourth graders?”

The number 6 bus stopped. KC dropped quarters into the box, then pulled Marshall into a seat.

“I’m waiting,” Marshall said.

KC glanced around her. The bus was nearly empty.

“Okay, I think the guy on TV was a fake or a clone,” KC whispered. “If he is, what happened to the real president?”

Before Marshall could open his mouth, KC went on. “Marshall, the president is in danger! And we’re going to save him!”

Marshall shook his head. “I’m in my bed. I’m having a terrible nightmare.”

KC opened her eyes innocently. “All I want to do is help my country!”

Marshall stared glumly out the window. “Another question,” he said. “We both lied about where we’re sleeping tonight. So, where are we really sleeping?”

KC grinned. “In the White House.”

The bus dropped them a short walk away from the White House.

KC looked at her watch. “That must be the last tour of the day. Let’s get in line.”

Since it was February, there weren’t many tourists. KC grabbed Marshall’s arm and joined the group.

“KC, can I ask a dumb question?” he whispered. “Why am I sneaking a jar of spiders into the White House?”

KC whispered her plan.

“Now I know you’re nuts!” he hissed. “We’re not going to sleep in the White House. We’re going to sleep in jail!”

KC shushed him. “Just remember to throw the spiders when I give you the signal,” she whispered.

“But how will I get them back?” Marshall asked. “I raised these spiders from babies! They love me!”

“Marshall, just think. Your spiders are going to save the President of the United States,” KC said. “They’ll be famous! Charlotte only saved a pig!”

“Charlotte who?”

KC raised her eyebrows.

“Oh,” Marshall said, looking embarrassed.
“That
Charlotte. Anyway, what’s your signal?”

KC thought for a moment. “Neck. When I say neck, you toss the spiders.”

“Neck? How’re you gonna work ‘neck’ into a conversation?”

“Trust me. Just be ready, okay?”

The line moved. Pretty soon KC and Marshall were inside the White House.

A woman in a blue suit met the group. “Good afternoon, everyone. My name is Debbie. I’ll be your guide today. And since Lincoln’s birthday was last week, we have opened the Lincoln bedroom for all tours!”

“Will we see President Thornton?” someone asked.

Debbie smiled. “I know he’s in the building. Keep your eyes peeled.”

Marshall smiled for the first time in an hour. “Maybe I can get the president’s autograph!” he said.

In the Lincoln bedroom, the guide pointed out the paintings and antique furniture. “In Lincoln’s term, this was not a
bedroom. So he never slept in this magnificent bed,” Debbie told the crowd.

The tourists said “oooh” a lot and asked questions.

“Open the jar,” KC whispered.

Marshall stared at her. “Here? Now?”

She nodded. “Move away from me. Mix in with the crowd.” She pointed to her neck. “And get ready for you-know-what!”

With a sick look on his face, Marshall went to stand behind three nuns. KC watched him stick both hands inside his backpack.

“If there are no more questions,” the guide said, “we can move on to—”

“I have a question,” KC said. She waved her arm like she did in school.

“Yes?” Debbie asked.

Everyone turned to look at KC. Suddenly she screamed, “SOMETHING IS ON MY
NECK!”

She began jumping and slapping at her neck. “MY NECK! SOMETHING IS CRAWLING ON MY NECK!”

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Marshall toss the spiders. No one else noticed. They were all staring at KC.

Then a woman screamed. “SPIDERS! THERE ARE SPIDERS IN MY HAIR!”

“Ugh!” the guide yelled. She swiped at a black spider crawling on her arm.

Suddenly there seemed to be spiders everywhere. Two dozen tourists panicked at once.

Everyone ran out of the room, screaming and slapping at their bodies.

With an unhappy look on his face,
Marshall slipped the empty jar into his backpack.

KC looked around. They were alone. She grabbed Marshall and dragged him down under the Lincoln bed.

“It worked!” KC whispered.

“And we’re fourth-grade felons!” hissed Marshall. “Plus, I lost all my spiders!”

“Your spiders will be heroes,” KC said.

“But we’ll be prisoners,” Marshall sputtered. “Why do I listen to you?”

“Because I’m your best friend,” KC said, calmly opening her backpack.

“Juice?” she asked.

KC drank her apple juice and ate raisin cookies. Marshall curled into a ball and glared at her.

“Aren’t you hungry?” KC asked.

No answer.

“Are you really mad at me?”

Marshall closed his eyes.

“Okay, but there are only two more cookies!”

Marshall reached out a hand. “
If
we ever get out of here,” he said, “I
might
forgive you.”

They finished the rest of the snacks in silence.

KC kept checking her watch. Marshall sighed a lot and looked for his spiders. He didn’t see any.

KC curled up and took a nap.

Marshall scratched at a mosquito bite on his ankle.

Hours later, a clock bonged ten times.

“Finally!” KC said. “Okay, Marsh, it’s ten o’clock. Let’s go.” She crawled out from under the bed.

Marshall was right behind her. “Go where?” he asked, stretching his back.

The Lincoln bedroom was dark. Only a small light was on, near one of the doors.

“To rescue the president,” KC said. She smiled at her best friend. “Maybe you will get that autograph,” she added.

Marshall snorted. “I bet he’s brushing his teeth and getting ready for bed.” He
slung his backpack over his shoulder. “Like we’re supposed to be doing!”

KC smiled. “And the real president brushes his teeth with his left hand!”

She opened the door and peeked into the hall. Like the bedroom, it was nearly dark. Small lights shone on the portraits hanging on the walls. Vases of flowers stood on polished tables.

“Come on,” KC whispered over her shoulder. She yanked on the first door knob they came to. It was locked. “Try every door,” she ordered.

Just then a man in a uniform came around a corner. Luckily, he was looking at the floor, not straight ahead.

“Guard!” KC hissed. She grabbed Marshall and hurried him through a small door. It led to a set of stairs.

“Let’s go down here,” KC whispered.

“I need to find a bathroom,” Marshall said.

KC whipped around. “Why didn’t you go at home?”

“I did, but that was a long time ago. We were under that dumb bed for about a year! And besides,” he added, “breaking into the White House always makes me a little nervous!”

KC started down the stairs. “Maybe there’s a bathroom down here.”

A few minutes later, they found themselves in a huge, dark kitchen. KC twisted a dimmer switch on the wall.

“Cool!” she said. “This must be where they cook those big state dinners!”

Marshall spied a small door. “I’m gonna see if that’s a bathroom,” he said.

KC looked around while she waited. The kitchen was in a basement. The floors were tiled. Instead of fancy wallpaper, the walls were painted white.

Marshall came back while KC was twirling a combination lock on an enormous freezer.

“Why do they lock everything in this place?” she muttered.

“To keep people like you out,” Marshall grumbled.

They found a corridor and tried more doors.

“I’m getting tired of this,” Marshall said. “Can we—”

“Shhh! I hear something!” KC whispered.

They froze and listened. Then Marshall heard it, too.

Somewhere, someone was laughing!

They tiptoed down the passageway, following the noise. Over their heads, pipes ran along the ceiling. Small lights shone down, casting shadows on the concrete floor.

“Look!” KC pointed to a partly opened door.

She heard someone laugh again. Squeezing Marshall’s arm, she crept closer and peered around the door.

Then she nearly fainted.

President Zachary Thornton was slumped in a chair, just a few feet away!

KC tugged Marshall into a dark corner. “It’s him! He’s in there!” she hissed.

“Who?” Marshall hissed right back.

“The president!” she whispered. “With a bunch of other guys!”

KC peeked into the room again. This time she noticed the president’s eyes. They looked weird, like they did when she saw him on TV. She backed away from the door and grabbed Marshall’s arm.

“Marsh, that’s not the president in there. It’s the clone!”

Marshall peeked into the room. “I hate to admit it, but I think you’re right,”
Marshall said. “He looks like a zombie!”

“What are they doing?” KC asked.

“The clone is in pajamas and a robe,” Marshall reported. “Three other guys are with him. They’re smoking cigars and watching ‘I Love Lucy.’ ”

Marshall backed away from the door. “Okay, we found the clone. Now what?”

KC opened her backpack and pulled out her tape recorder. She tiptoed back to the door. She clicked on the tape recorder. A deep voice was talking.

“We pulled it off, fellas. Everyone thinks our guy is really the president!”

Other voices joined in.

“—make millions of dollars!”

“—can’t wait to see the headlines when we spring our little plan!”

KC hoped the recorder was picking up
every word. The hum of the tape told her she was getting something, at least.

She stared at the president’s clone. He was slumped in a chair, wearing slippers, red pajamas, and a blue bathrobe. His eyes looked cold and dead.

Two men in dark suits sat at the table. On it were paper and pens, a small TV, and a few cans of soda. The third man stood by the clone. He was dressed in a white coat, the kind doctors wear.

Suddenly a rough hand grabbed KC by the arm. She turned around. A guard was glaring down at her. The guard’s other hand was clamped on Marshall’s shoulder.

“March, you two,” the guard said. He shoved KC and Marshall into the room.