The Legend of the Ditto Twins (35 page)

Twenty
minutes later, Clark and I strolled into the hotel lobby, trying to appear
casual, as if returning from an early morning jog. As we passed the dining
room, we saw Clay and Jay having breakfast. Worse, they saw us.

"What
are you two doing up so early?" asked Clark in an attempt to take the
offensive.

"What
are you two doing up so late?" asked Clay.

"We
stayed over at..."

“...Helmut's."
Jay finished the sentence before I could.

"Yes,
but we can explain..."

"As
if you need to." Clay shook his head in extravagant disgust. "For
Chrissake
, relax! We're not your mother. Pull up a fuckin
chair and sit down. You look like you need food."

Jay
leaned forward. "Food? What they fuckin' need is a transfusion."

We
couldn't help but grin, and so we sat down, trying our best to assume an air of
Sphinx-like mystery.

"We
had a very nice evening."

"And
how was yours?"

"Very
nice," replied Jay. "I just have one fuckin' question. Did he have
any drugs?"

"No,
of course not, Did you..."

“...think
he would?"

"I
had hoped not." He reached across to take our hands. "You will
discover that I am quite an old mother hen."

"I
don't understand," replied Clark. "If you thought there'd be drugs,
why did you hand us to him, practically on a silver platter?"

Jay
pulled back, releasing our hands and finding Clay's instead. "Well, we
could both fuckin'
see..."

“...that
you two were getting so fuckin antsy..."

“...that it
was only a fuckin matter of time till one or both of you were going to stray
off the reservation." Jay smiled. "We've been there. We know. So. We
decided it'd be best if you did your dallying in a controlled situation. Helmut
was as fuckin' hot for you as you were for him. And I trust him completely.
Well, almost completely. He's every mother's son—until he takes his pants off.
Right?"

We
grinned some more.

"Dear
ones, I've shot a dozen of his films. No wonder you look like hell. It's a
fuckin' miracle you're still walking."

We
laughed out loud. "You should..."

“...see
him!"

We all
had a good laugh and ordered breakfast. It wasn't until our second cup of
coffee that Clay cleared his throat.

"Uh...
gentlemen, I hate to bring this up, but,
y'know
,
Labor Day's only a week away."

I
blanched. "Already? That's impossible. We..."

“...just
got here."

Clay
opened his hands helplessly. "What're you gonna do?" Then he repeated
the sentence, this time giving full value to each of the words.
"What
are
you going to do?"

Clark and
I looked at each other. He spoke first.

"Well,
if we were smart, we'd get on the next plane, so that we could have a meeting
with Mom before Labor Day, and work out a deal."

I nodded
uneasily. "But the problem is: We don't always do the smart thing. We'd
really rather stay with you, Clay."

"Well,
you're welcome. You know that."

"We
know. You're..."

“...our
safety net. That's the main reason why..."

“...we've
pretty much decided to go back home..."

“...for
one more year, depending on whether..."

“...Mom
agrees to the car."

"My
God, the kids are growing up," said Jay.

"It
really won't be so bad. Not as bad as you think," said Clay. "Guys,
you're being very mature about a fuckin impossible situation."

"But
we'll come to visit you every..."

“...weekend.
That'll make things easier. The only..."

“...real
problem is you, Jay. We can't very well..."

“...fly
to Berlin every weekend."

"You
won't have to."

That
stopped the conversation cold.

"Do
you mean..."

“...what
we think you mean?"

Jay
looked at Clay. "Dolly's about to return to the lights of Fourteenth
Street."

"What
are you talking about?"

"I'm
getting too old to go around shooting fuck films the rest of my life—what's
left of it."

Clay
nodded. "He's decided to give me another chance."

I looked
at Clark with a smug air.

"Yep,
I'm coming home," said Jay. "Only not for awhile. There are a fuckin
lot of loose ends to tie up here. First off, I've got to find me a
lawyer."

"But
don't you already have one?" I asked but stopped short as I realized the
significance of what he'd just said.

Clay
pretended not to notice his brother's incredible gaffe. "And I'm staying
here till he's done," he added. "No more separations. Thirty fuckin'
years is enough."

The next
day at the airport, Jay handed us a package. "Homework for you. By the
time I get back, I trust you both will be able to converse intelligently about
your cultural heritage. And when you're not fucking, we'll have wonderfully
enlightening seminars. Open it."

We did.
Inside was a DVD of
G
idget
Goes
Hawaiian,
a paperback of
Auntie
Mame
,
and a CD of
Hello,
Dolly!

Thanking
them for the gifts—both those we were stuffing into our backpacks and those
that were less tangible—we hugged them close and started toward the jetway.
Halfway there, Clark stopped and turned back.

"Oh,
hey, one more thing. Are you going to tell Mom about Jay moving back?"

They both
laughed in perfect counterpoint.

"Fuck,
no. We thought..."

“...we'd let
you do that."

"Well?"
Mark asked. "What do you think? Did I get Berlin right?"

Clark
placed the latest notebook on the nightstand and pulled the covers up around
them. "I don't know if 'right' is the right word."

"What
does that mean?"

Clark shrugged.
"Well, shit, you didn't leave anything out. I mean, did you have to tell
everything? Like, you know, all that stuff about the extra rubber?"

"Well,
that's the way it happened."

"Okay,
but written down there in black and white, it feels kind
of...
dirty."

"Dirty?
You think what we did was dirty?"

"Shit,
I don't know." Clark rolled over on top of his brother. "It sure
didn't feel that way at the time."

"And
now?"

"Well,
couldn't you just fade to black? Seeing it right there in writing makes it
seem..."

"What?"

"Uh...
kind
of...
I don't
know...
maybe a
little pornographic."

"Pornographic?
You mean sexy?"

Clark
ground his naked crotch into his brother's. "Yeah," he snickered.

"Do
you want to leave the light on
or...?"
Mark never finished the sentence. His brother's tongue got
in the way.

Late on the Friday
night before Labor Day, when we arrived at Clay’s house, jetlagged and hungry,
Lily was waiting at the door. Even before we dropped our luggage, her fingers
waggled impatiently.

"Well?"
No greeting, no hugs, no kisses.

"Well,
what?" we asked.

"The
Mile High Club."

"Oh,
that." We headed straight toward our bedroom. "Lily, that's none of
your business."

"Oh!
That means you did!" Soon she was hugging and kissing us. "Where did
you do it? Oh, guess what! Jay's coming to live with us. Did you know that?
Okay, tell me where. In the cockpit? Now tell me the truth. Is he going to like
me? Or think I'm flaky?"

"Well,
you
are
flaky."

"That's
beside the point. Mario has a new girlfriend. A transsexual. Pre-op. And
Tanisha met this guy who teaches astrology at Harvard or someplace, and they're
doing it all the time now. Seems like everybody's doing it but me. Your mother
called yesterday. Do you think I'll ever get laid? Twice, she called. What'll I
tell Tanisha? Can I just say you tag-teamed one of the stewardesses?"