The Switch Read Online Free PDF Page A

know what has happened to you. At least, I think I can guess.”
    “What has happened to me? I insist that you tell me. If you don’t tell me, I’m going to the police! It’s horrible and unfair and I’m fed up with it. This carnival, the Snarbys, having to work! I want my mother. I want my Rolls-Royce. I want to go home!”
    Dr. Aftexcludor chuckled. “Well, you certainly don’t sound like Bob Snarby,” he muttered.
    Just then, a curtain parted and the Indian reappeared, holding a tray. Tad hadn’t realized that the caravan had two sections, but looking over the Indian’s shoulder, he saw what seemed to be a corridor extending some way into the distance. But that was impossible. The corridor was longer than the caravan itself. The curtain fell back and the Indian moved forward. On the tray were two steaming glasses of tea.
    “I haven’t introduced you,” Dr. Aftexcludor said. “This is Solo.”
    “Solo?”
    “That’s not his real name either. I call him that because there’s only one of him left.”
    “What do you mean?”
    “He’s from Brazil. An Arambaya Indian—but he’s the last of the tribe. I met him in Rio de Janeiro and brought him with me to Europe . . .” Dr. Aftexcludor turned to the Indian and muttered a few words in a language that sounded a little like Spanish, a little like a dog barking. The Indian nodded and withdrew. “I won’t tell you his story now,” he said. “You’re not ready for it.”
    “What do you mean?” Tad snapped. There was something about Dr. Aftexcludor he didn’t like. Maybe it was that the old man seemed to know so much but explained so little.
    Dr. Aftexcludor picked up his tea. “Perhaps we should begin with you,” he said. “Tad Spencer. That’s your real name, if I’m not mistaken.”
    “How do you know my name?” Tad demanded.
    “It’s my job!” The old man nodded at the table and for the first time Tad noticed the crystal ball. He looked into it and saw the inside of the caravan, the doctor, himself, all twisted into a swirl of colors, trapped inside the brilliant glass. “Your future in the stars,” Dr. Aftexcludor explained. “Two dollars and fifty cents and I tell people everything they want to know. Although, of course, most people don’t know what they want to know and what they do want to know isn’t what they ought to want to know.” He shook his head as if trying to make sense of this. “Anyway,” he went on, “telling their name is the easy part.”
    “What’s happened to me?” Tad demanded. He forced himself to look away from the crystal ball.
    “That’s not so easy. Obviously you’ve switched places with Bob Snarby—”
    “You mean he’s in my body with my parents in my house!” The thought hadn’t occurred to Tad until this moment.
    “I’m afraid so. But the real question is, how has this happened?” Dr. Aftexcludor smiled to himself and for just one moment Tad wondered if he knew more than he was letting on. “I would say, if you want a professional opinion, that you’ve been hit by a wishing star.”
    “A what?”
    “A wishing star. They’re an extremely rare phenomenon and they have to be in exactly the right position at exactly the right time. Let me see . . .” Dr. Aftexcludor reached out and took one of the books. He opened it and Tad saw that it was an old book about astronomy, the heavy pages (handwritten, not printed) filled with diagrams of stars and planets and their possible alignments. “Yes. Here we are.” He pointed to one of the pictures. “In the Andromeda galaxy. This little star here—Janus, its name is. That’s Latin, although of course I wouldn’t need to tell you that. Janus moved into the right orbit for about thirty seconds last night. That would have been around about ten o’clock. And the simple fact is that if you had made a wish at exactly that moment, the wish would have come true.”
    Tad stared at the picture, trying to think back. Then he remembered. “I wished I