No, they weren’t — they were in my hand! I blinked back and forth between the clothes I was holding and the clothes in the closet. They were the same! I’d lost a jacket and slacks, but I’d gained a sweater and a pair of pants identical to the ones I already owned. I had to figure this out.
Ah, I had it. The jacket and slacks he’d borrowed had traveled forward in time with him. They’d be waiting there for me when — no, that wasn’t right. I’d be going back in time tomorrow — that is, I’d be coming back to today, where I’d put them on and take them forward with me. Right. They’d just be skipping forward a few hours.
And the sweater and the other pair of pants — the duplicated ones — obviously, that’s what I’d be wearing tomorrow when I bounced back, leaving only one set in the future. The condition of having two of them was only temporary, like the condition of having two of me. It was just an illusion.
Or was it?
What would happen if I wore his sweater and slacks back through time? The sweater and slacks that he brought from the future would then be the clothes that I would leave in the past so that I could put them on when I went back to the past to leave them there for myself, ad infinitum… and meanwhile, my sweater and slacks would be hanging untouched in the closet.
Or would they?
What would happen tomorrow if I didn’t wear either sweater or pair of slacks? But something else entirely? (But how could I? I’d already seen that I had worn them.) Would the pair that he brought back cease to exist? Or would they remain — would I have somehow duplicated them?
There was only one way to find out…
I fell asleep thinking about it.
The morning was hot, with that crisp kind of unreality that characterizes the northern edge of the San Fernando Valley. I woke up to the sound of the air conditioner already beginning its days work with an insistent pressing hum.
For a while I just stared at the ceiling. I’d had the strangest dream—
—but it wasn’t a dream. I bounced out of bed in sudden fear. The timebelt glittered on the dresser where I’d left it. I held it tightly as if it might abruptly fade away. All the excitement of yesterday flooded back into me.
I remembered. The race track. The restaurant. Don. The check. It was sitting on the dresser too, right next to the belt — $57,600!
I opened the belt and checked the time. It was almost eleven. I’d have to hurry. Don would be arriving — no, I was Don now. Dan would be arriving in three hours.
I showered and shaved, pulled on a sport shirt and slacks and headed for the car. I wanted to go to the bank and deposit the check and I had to pick up a newspaper—
Actually, I didn’t need the newspaper at all, I could remember which horses had won without it, but there was a headline on the front page of the Herald Examiner: FIVE-HORSE PARLAY WINS $57,600!
Huh—? I hadn’t seen that before. But then, Don hadn’t shown me the front page.
The story was a skimpy one and they’d misspelled my name; mostly it was about how much I had bet on each horse and how it had snowballed. Then there were some quotes from various track officials saying how pleased they were to have such a big winner (I’ll bet!), because it helped publicize the sport (and probably attracted a lot of hopeful losers too.) Finally there was even a quote from me about what I was planning to do with the money: “I don’t know yet, I’m still too excited. Probably I’ll take a vacation. I’ve always wanted to see the world. I’d like to invest some of it too, but I have to wait and see what’s left after taxes.” Faked, of course. I hadn’t spoken to any reporters at all; but apparently some editor had felt the story wouldn’t be complete without a few words from the happy winner.
I was both pleased and annoyed. Pleased at being a “celebrity.” Annoyed that they were putting words into my mouth. Maybe today we’d do it differently.
Could we?
Suppose we didn’t stop at $57,600 — suppose we went after an eight-horse parlay. That would be worth almost $750,000! Hmm. I thought about it all during breakfast at the local coffee shop.
Afterward I went to the bank and withdrew two hundred and fifty dollars from my savings account so we’d have some money for the track today. I couldn’t deposit the big check yet, because I needed it to show to Danny, my younger self, this afternoon.
I got home with time to spare. I decided to change into some cooler clothes — then I remembered the sweater and slacks. What would happen if I wore something else instead?
I went burrowing in the closet, found some lightweight trousers, a shirt and a windbreaker. They would do just fine. Now, what else was there I had to take care of?
Nothing that I could see. I scooped up the check and put it in my pocket; I didn’t want to leave it lying around. Dan would be arriving at—
There was a soft pop! in the air.
I turned to see a startled-looking me.
“Hi,” I said. “I’ve been waiting for you.”
His eyes were wide; he looked positively scared.
“Relax, Dan—” I said. He jumped when I spoke.
For a moment, all he could do was stare. His face was a study in amazement. “You’re me—”
I suddenly realized how silly this whole tableau was. I thrust the newspaper at him. “Here. I believe we were going to the races… ?
“We?”
That’s right — he didn’t know!! “Well, it’s no fun going alone, is it?
“Uh—”
“It’s all right,” I said. “I’m you — I’m your future self. Tomorrow you’ll be me. That is, we’re the same person. We’ve just doubled back our timeline.”
He blinked. “Oh.”
He looked so confused, I wanted to touch him to reassure him, but I remembered how scared I had been. He’d probably jump right out of his skin. I smiled at him. “Okay, let’s do it this way. I’m your twin brother.” There was so much I wanted to explain. I wanted to tell him everything that Don had told me last night, but it wasn’t the right time yet. He was still looking at me too hesitantly. Instead I reached out and took his hand, shook it firmly. “Hi,” I said. “I’m Don. I’m your brother.” After a bit he returned my grip. I knew how scared he was — but I also knew how curious he was about to become.
We bounced back in time in his “today.” (I snuck a peek in the closet when he wasn’t looking. There was only one sweater and slacks — of course, I hadn’t brought them back with me. But there were duplicates of the trousers, shirt and windbreaker I was wearing now. So you could change the timestream… !)
On the way out to the car, old lady Peterson surprised us — surprised Danny, I should say; I’d been expecting her. “This is my brother,” I said quickly. “Don,” I touched his arm. “This is Mrs. Peterson.” To her: “Don will be staying with me for a while, so if you think you’re seeing double, don’t be surprised.”
She smiled at us. “I didn’t know you were twins—”
“We’ve been — living separately,” I answered, remembering quickly how my Don had explained it. “So we could each have a chance to be our own person. Don’s been living up in San Francisco for the past two years.”
“Oh,” she said. She beamed politely at Dan. “Well, I hope you’ll like it in Los Angeles, Don. There’s so much to do.”
He went kind of frog-faced at that. He managed to stammer out, “Uh — yes. It’s very exciting.”