exactly the same route back to the beach that Max himself would have chosen.
If not for the eerie overtones that made it feel as if he was talking to himself (but wasn’t he?) he might have enjoyed the situation. It was like having the world’s best valet. Mitch drove, Mitch opened the garage, Mitch parked the car. Too bad, he found himself thinking wryly, that neither one of them could cook.
As much as he had come to accept the situation, it wasstill something of a shock when Mitch pulled a set of keys from his pocket and opened the door to the apartment.
“Home,” his para murmured as they stepped inside. “My home, your home, our home.” He looked over at himself and smiled. “I’m glad all the bills are paid on our other place. My place. Everything will be all right for a while until this Boles person can restore me to my reality. Meanwhile,” he said as he headed for the kitchen, “all that sitting around in El Cortez has made me hungry.”
“Not me.” Max trailed him. “We may be alike, but it looks like we’re not locked in a do-everything-together two-step.”
“Damn good thing, too.” Mitch was examining the contents of the refrigerator, verifying that its contents were identical to his own. “Otherwise we might go crazy.” He was nodding approvingly as he spoke. “Salami, mayo, relish, our favorite brand of tuna—you’ve got all the right stuff.”
Max nodded solemnly. “What else would you expect from yourself? I don’t have to ask if there’s anything in there you’d like to eat. If you’re going to make a sandwich, and I suspect that you are, there’s half a loaf of cracked wheat bread in the pantry. Just go easy on the groceries. It looks like I’m buying for the two of us now.”
While Mitch threw together tuna and bread (about the extent of their combined knowledge of gourmet home cookery, Max reflected), his counterpart opened a beer and took a seat in the den. They subsequently discovered that they likedthe same television programs except that Mitch preferred the local news on channel four instead of two, and he rooted for a different local basketball team. These less-than-earthshaking revelations provided just enough leeway in conversation to separate them as individuals, despite the overwhelming similarities, and allowed each man room enough in which to establish an identity apart from his para.
Ready to retire at the same time, they went through the motions of preparing for bed in exactly the same fashion save that Mitch brushed with an up-and-down motion while Max preferred to stroke from side to side. The king-sized bed was more than adequate for the both of them, and neither man had any compunction about sleeping with himself. Graciously, Max allowed Mitch to have the right side of the bed, which both men favored.
“This doesn’t mean I’m buying lunch again tomorrow,” Mitch pointed out as he climbed between the sheets. “Remember, my bank account’s also in another world.”
Max checked the alarm before turning out the light. “Talk about your convenient excuses …”
Dressing the following morning was no problem. Everything that fit Max fit Mitch, and they took turns at the bathroom sink and mirror. Breakfast was a matter of simply making two of everything.
“Remember now.” Max led the way down to the garage. “You’re my twin brother Mitch from back East, visiting theWest Coast for the first time since I started working for the paper.”
The para indicated that he understood. “I’ll be careful not to say too much or I’m liable to reveal too much knowledge of L.A. for a supposed stranger.”
Max nodded approvingly. “That’s just what I would do.”
“Of course it is. And we’re going to have to stop remarking on that as well.”
They entered the deserted garage. “You’ve got it easy,” Max told him. “I’m the one who still has to work.”
“What makes you think that’s going to be easy?” the para complained. “What am I
If not for the eerie overtones that made it feel as if he was talking to himself (but wasn’t he?) he might have enjoyed the situation. It was like having the world’s best valet. Mitch drove, Mitch opened the garage, Mitch parked the car. Too bad, he found himself thinking wryly, that neither one of them could cook.
As much as he had come to accept the situation, it wasstill something of a shock when Mitch pulled a set of keys from his pocket and opened the door to the apartment.
“Home,” his para murmured as they stepped inside. “My home, your home, our home.” He looked over at himself and smiled. “I’m glad all the bills are paid on our other place. My place. Everything will be all right for a while until this Boles person can restore me to my reality. Meanwhile,” he said as he headed for the kitchen, “all that sitting around in El Cortez has made me hungry.”
“Not me.” Max trailed him. “We may be alike, but it looks like we’re not locked in a do-everything-together two-step.”
“Damn good thing, too.” Mitch was examining the contents of the refrigerator, verifying that its contents were identical to his own. “Otherwise we might go crazy.” He was nodding approvingly as he spoke. “Salami, mayo, relish, our favorite brand of tuna—you’ve got all the right stuff.”
Max nodded solemnly. “What else would you expect from yourself? I don’t have to ask if there’s anything in there you’d like to eat. If you’re going to make a sandwich, and I suspect that you are, there’s half a loaf of cracked wheat bread in the pantry. Just go easy on the groceries. It looks like I’m buying for the two of us now.”
While Mitch threw together tuna and bread (about the extent of their combined knowledge of gourmet home cookery, Max reflected), his counterpart opened a beer and took a seat in the den. They subsequently discovered that they likedthe same television programs except that Mitch preferred the local news on channel four instead of two, and he rooted for a different local basketball team. These less-than-earthshaking revelations provided just enough leeway in conversation to separate them as individuals, despite the overwhelming similarities, and allowed each man room enough in which to establish an identity apart from his para.
Ready to retire at the same time, they went through the motions of preparing for bed in exactly the same fashion save that Mitch brushed with an up-and-down motion while Max preferred to stroke from side to side. The king-sized bed was more than adequate for the both of them, and neither man had any compunction about sleeping with himself. Graciously, Max allowed Mitch to have the right side of the bed, which both men favored.
“This doesn’t mean I’m buying lunch again tomorrow,” Mitch pointed out as he climbed between the sheets. “Remember, my bank account’s also in another world.”
Max checked the alarm before turning out the light. “Talk about your convenient excuses …”
Dressing the following morning was no problem. Everything that fit Max fit Mitch, and they took turns at the bathroom sink and mirror. Breakfast was a matter of simply making two of everything.
“Remember now.” Max led the way down to the garage. “You’re my twin brother Mitch from back East, visiting theWest Coast for the first time since I started working for the paper.”
The para indicated that he understood. “I’ll be careful not to say too much or I’m liable to reveal too much knowledge of L.A. for a supposed stranger.”
Max nodded approvingly. “That’s just what I would do.”
“Of course it is. And we’re going to have to stop remarking on that as well.”
They entered the deserted garage. “You’ve got it easy,” Max told him. “I’m the one who still has to work.”
“What makes you think that’s going to be easy?” the para complained. “What am I
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