—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.”
I couldn’t help myself. I started giggling; when we got to the car I couldn’t hold it in any longer. “I wish you could have seen your face—” I said. Then I realized. “Well, you will — tomorrow.” He was half glaring at me.
“’Uh — yes. It’s very exciting,’” I mocked. “You looked as if you’d swallowed a frog.”
He stopped in the act of unlocking the passengerside car door. “Why didn’t you let me explain?” he asked. “She’s my neighbor.”
“She’s my neighbor too,” I pointed out. “Besides, what would you have said? At least I’ve been through this once before.” I opened my door and got into the car. I could see this twin business was going to take some getting used to. Already I was noticing the differences between the Dan of today and the Don of yesterday. Sure, it was only me — but I was beginning to realize that I would never be the same person twice in a row. And I would never be viewing myself through the same pair of eyes either. Dan seemed so — uncertain; it was as if he was a little cowed by me. It showed in little things — his easy acquiescence of the fact that I would drive, for example. All I had done was point him at the passenger side of the car while I headed toward the driver’s side myself, but he had accepted that. Not without some resentment, of course; I could see him eyeing me as I unlatched the top, preparatory to putting it down.
“Put on a tape,” I said, pointing at the box of cassettes. I started to name one, then stopped. “Want me to tell you which one you’re going to choose?” I realized that was a mistake as soon as I’d said it.
“Uh — no, thanks,” he muttered. He was frowning.
I could have kicked myself. I’d let myself get carried away with this wild sense of power. I hadn’t been considerate of Dan at all. Belatedly, I remembered how I had felt yesterday. Resentful, sullen, and most of all, cautious. Poor Dan — here he was, flush with excitement, filled with a feeling of omnipotence at the wondrous things he could do with his timebelt — and I had stolen it all from him. By my mere presence, my know-it-all attitude and cocksure arrogance, I was relegating him to second fiddle. Of course he wouldn’t like it.
As he put on the tape of Petrouchka, I resolved to try and be more considerate. I should have realized how he would feel — no, that was wrong, I did know how he felt; I simply hadn’t paid it any mind.