was set aglow by the triangle’s light.
Hedwig’s foot tapped madly as he watched the light flicker, then blink off. Nothing happened. The piece of glass sat there in the dim light of the flashlight, doing nothing. Fifteen seconds passed and the jagged glass began to glow with its own light, a light like that of the triangle. The piece of glass expanded and grew. The glass lit up brighter. Its clear and slick surface dulled and darkened. The glow dimmed. When the light had faded, the jagged piece of glass was no longer a piece of glass. It was a square, metal housing – a cube identical to the one beside it, on which the light had first shone.
“Well?” said Otto.
“Me? Uh, yes. I’ve heard of it. There are a couple books. You know, it was a pretty big deal. Even more than you’d guess, I mean.”
Hedwig walked over to the metal cubes. He picked them up.
“We won’t have- They don’t feel the same,” said Hedwig.” But uh, you really think this is the only chance we’ll have with this stuff?”
“The Neishoe people won’t share something like this,” Otto said. “They’ll try to reproduce it. Maybe they’ll be able to and maybe they won’t. If they can, it’ll be for sale.”
“Huh. For sale. Not so someone like me could afford it,” said Hedwig.
“Probably not,” said Otto.
Hedwig walked towards his flashlight, to get a better look at the two squares of metal. He couldn’t take his eyes off them. He wasn’t looking where he was going. Hedwig’s foot caught on a heavy piece of pipe. It knocked him off balance; he didn’t fall. The metal cubes jumped from his hands. Hedwig reached out to catch them as they fell, but the squares thudded off his hands. They dropped to the floor. The first metal cube, the original, hit the floor with a clunk and tumbled to a stop. The second, the new cube, it hit the ground and broke like it was made of glass.
“They look the same,” said Otto, “but they aren’t the same. The glass looked like metal, but it was still glass.”
Hedwig stared at the fallen cubes for a moment. He looked slowly up at Otto.
“You, you don’t understand what it was like,” Hedwig said. “They didn’t just,” he waved his hand at the stuff on the floor. “The people, the people who built this, they used it on themselves. You could, you can use it to look however you want to look. You get to choose.”
“Unbelievable,” said Otto.
“And right now,” said Hedwig. “Otto, I need to ask you something. This morning, when I had the ice cream cone dropped on my head. You said it only happened because I was with you, and I know you really believe that but it isn’t true. I got picked on a long time before we got to be friends, and. When I was just this little kid. It was like, everybody else, all the other little kids, they called me names and picked on me. They knew. I didn’t belong with them. I didn’t know it but they did. Well, what I thought was they were wrong about me, and if I just toughed it out, they’d get tired of torturing me and maybe, you know, move on to somebody else. But they never did, and I kept trying but they never stopped. I stopped being a kid but they, I got treated the same, it didn’t matter where I was.
“And then I, we worked that first job together, and you treated me – you treated me like I was no different than you. And I, well, I decided they were right, everybody was. I wasn’t the same as them. I didn’t belong. You wouldn’t believe what that meant, all the pressure that went away when I said to myself: ‘No, you really aren’t like everybody else.’ So I moved out, I moved from the human town where I lived to your humole town. I changed my human name to a humole name. I’m Hedwig. Remember? I was Greg. Now I’m Hedwig. And I, it’s so much easier.
“But, you know, I’m still not the same. And now I could be. Humans see me, when I’m with humoles and humans see me, they treat me like some kind of traitor. And with humoles, I feel it, some of the time, with, I still don’t fit in quite. Because really, I’m still not the same. I understand. But, you see, now I can be the same.
“Otto. I want you to help me. I want to be a humole. We’ll just, I’ll shine the light on you, and then you take it and you shine the light on me. Okay? And, you know, it’s right, it’s right to me that you’re the one to help me do this.”
Otto looked down. He stood there, not saying anything.
“No,” Otto said.
Otto moved a paw to the side of the device and Hedwig knew Otto was going to make it so that he wouldn’t be able to use it. Hedwig picked up the bar part of the rool from the ground and opened the compartment in the side like he’d seen Otto do. He took the battery, slid it inside, clicked shut the compartment, and pressed the button.
Otto’s paw stopped. Hedwig looked down at the bracelet on his foot. A light was blinking; the same thing was happening with Otto’s.
“Otto?” said Hedwig.
“Hm? Oh,” said Otto-as-Hedwig. “I, uh, I’m not Otto. I’m Hedwig. Like you, only over here.
Otto-as-Hedwig lifted a paw and moved it around in front of his face.
“You know, it’s funny,” said Otto-as-Hedwig. “I’m over here. I can, uh, work Otto’s body. But I don’t feel any different at all. I couldn’t tell you what it’s like to be a humole. I feel like I always have. Maybe the rool isn’t working right.”
“Wow. Um, I mean, Maybe not,” said Hedwig. “I, uh, we don’t know how long this is going to last. How do you feel about-“
“I feel great about it,” said Otto-as-Hedwig. “I feel just the same as I did before, only over here, with uh, this thing in my hands.”
“Good,” said Hedwig. You know, I, I just don’t know what would make Otto say ‘No’ like that. It really, really did hurt. He was going to take that thing apart. It was like he didn’t care what this means to me.”
“Mm,” said Otto-as-Hedwig. “He doesn’t know, Otto doesn’t, what it’s like to be human. Like, I mean, human how I am.”
“No, he doesn’t,” said Hedwig.
“Okay,” said Otto-as-Hedwig. “Shine the light on me, on uh, Otto.
Otto-as-Hedwig made Otto’s body hand the thing to Hedwig and stand up straight. Hedwig turned on the machine and Otto’s body lit up. Hedwig handed the thing back, and Otto-as-Hedwig made Otto’s paw take it. Hedwig held his breath. Otto-as-Hedwig looked down at the thing in Otto’s hands. He made Otto’s body shoulder it and turn on the light. Hedwig’s body lit up. And then the light was gone.
Hedwig and Otto-as-Hedwig looked back and forth at each other and Hedwig looked down at himself.
“Do you, feel any different?” said Otto-as-Hedwig.
“I think I do,” said Hedwig.
“How?” said Otto-as-Hedwig.
“How?” said Hedwig. “Uh, I don’t, I’m not sure how. Just different.”
“The, uh,” said Otto as Hedwig. “The piece of glass glowed. Turn off your flashlight, and I’ll turn off Otto’s, and we’ll watch you, when you start to glow.
Otto-as-Hedwig made Otto’s paw reach up and shut the lamp on his head harness off. The flashlight on the ground clattered as Hedwig tried to pick it up. Hedwig found the button and the light went out. They waited there like that, in the ancient museum. It was as dark as Hedwig had ever seen. He closed and opened his eyes. It made no difference. A dozen feet away, Otto-as-Hedwig was doing the same thing with Otto’s eyelids. Neither of them said a thing. Otto-as-Hedwig turned Otto’s head slowly side to side. He didn’t remember exactly where Hedwig was, where he was supposed to see the glow. Hedwig held his hand to his face. He saw no light. Both Hedwigs knew, the machine hadn’t worked.
“Are you still there?” said Hedwig.
“Yes,” said Otto-as-Hedwig. “I am.”
“You’re over there, working Otto’s body,” said Hedwig. “When we turn, uh, the rool off, I wonder if I’ll get to remember what it was like?”
“I don’t, but I don’t feel anything like a humole. I feel like myself, over here,” said Otto-as-Hedwig.
“Oh,” said Hedwig.
“You remember,” said Otto-as-Hed
wig, “what, uh, Otto said. The rool might not be working all the way. Maybe if we switch it around, I will feel like a humole.”
“Maybe,” said Hedwig. “And maybe if you do, and I remember it, maybe that, it’ll be enough.”
Otto-as-Hedwig moved Otto’s paw and switched on his head light. The rool was on the ground in front of him.
“Um,” said Otto-as-Hedwig. “You better do it. When it turns off, I’ll be Otto again. He might not want to turn the rool back on.”
Otto-as-Hedwig moved Otto’s foot and slid the rool over to Hedwig.
“No,” said Hedwig, “he might not.”
Hedwig practiced in his head a couple times. He popped open the compartment and out came the battery. It felt slick in his hand and Hedwig lost his grip but he didn’t drop it. Hedwig flipped the battery around, slid it back into place, snapped shut the compartment, and pushed the button.
Otto saw Hedwig holding the rool up, close to his face.
“Hedwig!” said Otto. “Put that down. It could be dangerous.”
“It looks safe enough,” said Hedwig-as-Otto. “I’m not Hedwig. It’s the reverse of what just happened.”
“You saw it too?” said Otto.
“I imagine I saw everything you did,” said Hedwig-as-Otto.
“And heard everything Hedwig said,” said Otto.
“It’s the same,” said Hedwig-as-Otto. “I can move Hedwig’s body, but I don’t feel human.”
“You tried to stop Hedwig? To keep our body from moving?” said Otto.
“Yes,” said Hedwig-as-Otto. “I am