salsa, Max explained as best he could. He did not have to repeat anything, since Mitch understood intuitively. Talking to yourself, Max reflected, had certain advantages.
When he had finished the story, Mitch leaned back in his chair. His expression was akin to that of the man who had just seen the proverbial purple horse prance past. It looked like ahorse, neighed like a horse, and smelled like a horse—but the suspicion remained that there was something seriously unequine about it.
“So what you’re trying to tell me is that I’m one of these things you call a para?”
“Not me,” Max reminded him. “That’s Barry Boles’s term.”
Mitch straightened and took a deep breath. “If what you’re telling me is true, I expect we’d both like to strangle the bastard.”
“Of course we would. But that’s not going to solve your problem or make mine go away. Fortunately, we’re not encumbered by any close personal relationships at the moment, so nobody will miss you for a while.”
“If I only show up for work in this world and not in mine, I’ll get fired,” Mitch reminded himself.
Max tried to reassure his other self. “Don’t panic. You know how often we go off on assignment. Kryzewski will think MacKenzie assigned you, and MacKenzie will think it was Kryzewski. That state of affairs won’t last indefinitely, but everything should be resolved and back to normal within a couple of days. Tuesday, to be exact.”
Mitch swirled his drink unhappily. “
If
this Boles can fix things.” Max had no ready reply to that. “This sucks. I want back to my own world.”
“Nobody wants that more than I do,” Max told him feelingly. “Of course, nobody would. I mean, if you can’t getsympathy from yourself, where can you? But for now it looks like you’re stuck.”
“So what do we do?”
“We?” Max frowned. “Why ‘we’?”
Mitch looked up sharply. “Don’t tell me you’re thinking of turning your own self out on the street?”
“To tell you the truth, I hadn’t really thought that far ahead. But I guess you’re right.” Max brightened. “How about we explain you as my visiting twin brother from back East, whom I haven’t seen in years?”
“I guess that’s okay.” His duplicate sounded less than enthusiastic. “I still don’t see why I can’t be Max and you be Mitch.”
Max held his ground. “I’ve already explained; you’re my para.”
“Is that a fact? What makes you think that you’re not
my
para?”
Max struggled to contain his exasperation—not to mention his increasing confusion. “Look, if we start fighting about individual nomenclature we’re both going to wind up in the loony bin. Just indulge me, will you?” He smiled encouragingly. “After all, you’ll be indulging yourself.”
“I don’t feel very indulged,” his other muttered. “But what you say about drawing unwanted attention makes sense.”
A relieved Max smiled. “How could it be otherwise? You said it—more or less.”
“Okay, fine. So now I’m ‘Mitch.’ But only for the duration.”The exasperated para downed the rest of his drink. “This is a great place, except they never put enough salt on their margarita glasses.”
“You don’t have to tell me,” Max replied promptly.
“I know,” said the para.
Max did his best to put a positive spin on their unprecedented situation. “This
could
be interesting, if we don’t let it get us down.”
“Easy for you to say,” grumbled Mitch. “You’re not the one missing a world.”
They left separately, Max letting Mitch pick up the tab after first checking to insure that their credit card numbers were identical. They matched perfectly, except that Mitch’s photo ID showed his hair parted on the wrong side. Needless to say, the bored cashier did not pick up on the subtle and almost invisible difference.
Having paid, Mitch wanted to drive. Out of curiosity, Max let him, and sat back in silent astonishment as his para negotiated
When he had finished the story, Mitch leaned back in his chair. His expression was akin to that of the man who had just seen the proverbial purple horse prance past. It looked like ahorse, neighed like a horse, and smelled like a horse—but the suspicion remained that there was something seriously unequine about it.
“So what you’re trying to tell me is that I’m one of these things you call a para?”
“Not me,” Max reminded him. “That’s Barry Boles’s term.”
Mitch straightened and took a deep breath. “If what you’re telling me is true, I expect we’d both like to strangle the bastard.”
“Of course we would. But that’s not going to solve your problem or make mine go away. Fortunately, we’re not encumbered by any close personal relationships at the moment, so nobody will miss you for a while.”
“If I only show up for work in this world and not in mine, I’ll get fired,” Mitch reminded himself.
Max tried to reassure his other self. “Don’t panic. You know how often we go off on assignment. Kryzewski will think MacKenzie assigned you, and MacKenzie will think it was Kryzewski. That state of affairs won’t last indefinitely, but everything should be resolved and back to normal within a couple of days. Tuesday, to be exact.”
Mitch swirled his drink unhappily. “
If
this Boles can fix things.” Max had no ready reply to that. “This sucks. I want back to my own world.”
“Nobody wants that more than I do,” Max told him feelingly. “Of course, nobody would. I mean, if you can’t getsympathy from yourself, where can you? But for now it looks like you’re stuck.”
“So what do we do?”
“We?” Max frowned. “Why ‘we’?”
Mitch looked up sharply. “Don’t tell me you’re thinking of turning your own self out on the street?”
“To tell you the truth, I hadn’t really thought that far ahead. But I guess you’re right.” Max brightened. “How about we explain you as my visiting twin brother from back East, whom I haven’t seen in years?”
“I guess that’s okay.” His duplicate sounded less than enthusiastic. “I still don’t see why I can’t be Max and you be Mitch.”
Max held his ground. “I’ve already explained; you’re my para.”
“Is that a fact? What makes you think that you’re not
my
para?”
Max struggled to contain his exasperation—not to mention his increasing confusion. “Look, if we start fighting about individual nomenclature we’re both going to wind up in the loony bin. Just indulge me, will you?” He smiled encouragingly. “After all, you’ll be indulging yourself.”
“I don’t feel very indulged,” his other muttered. “But what you say about drawing unwanted attention makes sense.”
A relieved Max smiled. “How could it be otherwise? You said it—more or less.”
“Okay, fine. So now I’m ‘Mitch.’ But only for the duration.”The exasperated para downed the rest of his drink. “This is a great place, except they never put enough salt on their margarita glasses.”
“You don’t have to tell me,” Max replied promptly.
“I know,” said the para.
Max did his best to put a positive spin on their unprecedented situation. “This
could
be interesting, if we don’t let it get us down.”
“Easy for you to say,” grumbled Mitch. “You’re not the one missing a world.”
They left separately, Max letting Mitch pick up the tab after first checking to insure that their credit card numbers were identical. They matched perfectly, except that Mitch’s photo ID showed his hair parted on the wrong side. Needless to say, the bored cashier did not pick up on the subtle and almost invisible difference.
Having paid, Mitch wanted to drive. Out of curiosity, Max let him, and sat back in silent astonishment as his para negotiated
Similar Books
