The Switch Read Online Free PDF Page B

in everything at school,” she went on with her mouth full. “Bottom in math. Bottom in history. Second to bottom in geography—and that was only because you gave the other boy multiple stab wounds!”
    “So what was you thinking about?” Eric Snarby asked. “Don’t tell me!” He grinned. “It was Einstein’s theory of electricity.”
    “It’s relativity,” Tad said. He found it hard to catch his breath. “Einstein invented the theory of relativity.”
    “Don’t you contradict your father!” Doll exploded, grabbing hold of Tad’s ear.
    “That’s right,” Eric cried, grabbing hold of the other one.
    “Wait a minute. Please. You don’t understand . . .” Tad tried to get to his feet, but suddenly the caravan seemed to be moving. He felt it spin around, then dive as if down a steep hill. He flailed out, trying to keep his balance. Then fell unconscious to the floor.
    There was a long silence.
    “Blimey!” Doll said, looking at the silent boy. “That’s a bit of a shocker! Is ’e dead?”
    “I don’t fink so,” Eric Snarby muttered. He leaned down and put a hand to Tad’s lips. “’E’s still breathing. Just.” He blinked nervously. “Wot we gonna do?” he went on. “I suppose we’d better call a doctor.”
    “No way! Forget it!” Doll snapped. “A doctor’ll take one look at all them bruises we given the boy and then we’ll have the social workers in and then the police.”
    Eric Snarby went over to an ashtray and rummaged inside it. A moment later he pulled out an old cigarette butt, relit it and screwed it into his lips. “So what are we going to do?” he asked again.
    Doll Snarby thought for a long moment, twisting her wooden necklace with one pudgy hand. “We’ll look after ’im ourselves,” she said.
    “But ’e looks awful!” Eric Snarby protested. “’E could be full of glue, Doll. Maybe ’is ’eart and lungs ’ave got all stuck together and that’s wot’s doing it. What are we going to do if ’e dies?”
    “He won’t die . . .”
    “But what if ’e does? What will we tell Finn?”
    At the mention of Finn, Doll froze. “Don’t talk to me about Finn,” she rasped.
    Eric Snarby went over to Tad, picked him up and carried him through to the bed. But for the faintest movement of the boy’s chest as it rose and fell, he could have been dead already. Doll stared at him with bulging eyes, then threw a soiled blanket over him. “Go out and get ’im two Mars bars and a bottle of Gatorade,” she rasped. “And don’t worry! The boy’s going to be fine!”

FINN
    But Tad only got worse.
    Wrapped in filthy sheets in the corner of the caravan, Tad seemed to be breathing more and more slowly, as if he had found the one sure way out of his new body and was determined to take it. Eric Snarby sat watching over him while, in the next room, Doll Snarby blinked back tears and tried on different hats for the funeral. But then, three days after Tad had fallen ill, there was a knock on the door. It was Solo, the Indian from Dr. Aftexcludor’s caravan.
    “Blimey!” Doll exclaimed, staring at the tiny figure. “It’s the last of the blooming Mohicans. What do you want, dearie?”
    By way of an answer, Solo held out a curious bottle. It was circular in shape, fastened with a silver stopper. It was half filled with some pale green liquid.
    “What is it?” Doll demanded.
    Eric Snarby appeared at the door beside her. “Don’t touch it,” he muttered. “It’s some sort of foreign muck.” He waved at Solo. “Beat it!” he shouted. “Go on! Allez-vous! Push off!”
    “Medicine.” Solo muttered the single word and nodded at the bottle.
    “What do you know about medicine?” Eric sneered.
    Doll snatched the bottle from him. “Shut up!” she exclaimed. “That old geezer ’e works for . . . Aftexcludor. ’E’s a doctor, innee?”
    “Medicine,” Solo repeated.
    “I ’eard! I ’eard!” Eric muttered sourly. He turned to Doll. “’Ow do they even know the