The Legend of the Ditto Twins (53 page)

We never
saw the end of the movie, for just about the time that everyone in the cast was
going off to World War I, a car pulled up underneath our window, and a moment
later we could hear Mom sending Go-To Guy upstairs to our room.

"Hey-hey.
Where you been?" he asked as he bounded in.

We
reached for our cigarettes. "Visiting our uncles..."

“...for
Spring Break,
y'know
."

He
stopped to check himself out in the Rialto mirror and then flopped on the bed
beside me. "Move over."

I made
room for him by moving closer to Clark. But not too close. "What's
up?"

"Well,
you'll be eighteen pretty soon, right?" He lit a Marlboro. "When's
your birthday?"

"Not
for awhile," said Clark cautiously. "Why?"

"Well,
I thought we should start
makin
plans about that
movie we're gonna make."

"Oh,
that. Well, we've decided to pass. It's..."

“...really
not our thing. But thanks anyway."

"What're
you
talkin
' about? I thought we had a deal."

"Nah,
we never had a deal. We talked about it..."

“...but
we never said we'd do it."

Go-To Guy
sat up. "No. That's not the way I remember things. I thought we had a
deal."

We shook
our heads.

"But
I been
tellin
my boss that we had a deal. I been
countin
' on it. He's
countin
' on
it, too. Ready to lay out big bucks on the two of you. Big bucks."

"Well,
like we said..."

“...we're
not interested."

"Not
even as a personal favor to your old buddy?"

"'
Fraid
not." In unison. "Sorry."

He stood.
"Shit." Flustered, he bought time by studying Jay's portrait of us.
"Well, I tell you what. Why
don'tcha
think it
over, and I'll stop by tomorrow night."

"You're
welcome to stop by, but..."

“...the
answer'll
still be the same."

Stymied,
he moved closer to our framed portrait.

"Y'know,
the porn business is always
crawlin
' with rumors.
Gossip. My boss hears things. Like, he heard someone was making a film in
Europe with a pair of mystery twins."

"No
shit." In unison, as casually as possible.

"Blond
mystery twins."

"No
shit." Less casually.

"You
ever been to Prague?"

"Where's
that?" In unison.

He headed
for the door. "You've made a big mistake."

By the
time he drove off, the Judy Garland movie was over, so we made love and fell
asleep. One day ran into another. The third Friday we were back, we headed for
Casa Clay-Jay right after school let out, as usual, to relax, be ourselves, and
watch the next scene Jay and Phil had edited: the one in the barn with the
farmhands.

"And
speaking of Pavol and Libor, there's an e-mail from them. Use the laptop,"
said Clay, passing it over.

"Oh,
I didn't know we'd heard from them," said Lily.

I opened
the laptop and read out loud the note, which was a charmingly clumsy thank you
for our assistance in furthering their careers.

"There's
more," said Clay. "Scroll down."

I obeyed.
"P.S. You will be happy to know that
Pavol's
wife delivered new baby with no problems three days ago. It was male child, to
be christened Mark. I will marry my
fiancee
in one
week since we too are expecting baby. I am told it will also be male, so we
will name it Clark."

"Keep
going," said Clay.

"P.P.S.
Thank you again for teaching Pavol and me to be Superstars. We practice every
day. With gratitude, Libor."

"They
were both good little buggers," said Phil, who was sitting next to Lily on
the couch. "Hard workers. Pun intended."

"Is
it too late to go clubbing?" asked Lily.

We
groaned. "Aw, Lily..."

"Then
tomorrow night. Even Phil's agreed to go, and he's over thirty. I'll call
Tanisha and Ricky. They've become Buddhists, you know—but they still go
clubbing. Mario won't be there, of course, now that he's gone straight again.
Would you believe it? He's actually engaged to some girl h
is family wants him to marry. She does have a little bit of a
moustache, though, so I guess that'll make it easier for him."

We got to
Lily's club of choice, Another World, on Saturday night about eleven. As
always, the place was packed with half-naked exhibitionists gyrating to the
latest hits.

"No
drinks yet," Lily shouted, as usual. "
Somebody'll
cop
em
as soon as we start dancing. And I want to
dance!"

She
grabbed Phil and pulled him toward the dance floor. Clark and I had been to the
club so many times that we thought nothing of slipping an arm around each other
as we boogied into the turbulent throng.

That
night we'd decided to wear the chambray shirts, but it wasn't long before we'd
worked up a sweat, so we took them off and tucked them in our belts. We weren't
the only bare-chested men in the crowd, but we were the only twins, so everyone
noticed us. Well, practically everyone. Then, just as the D.J. shifted to a
slower number, Lily and Phil reappeared.

"Let's
switch," she said. "Phil, go dance with Clark."

Before I
knew it, she was in my arms, and our partners were gliding away. Clark told me
later that Phil didn't seem to have any problem dancing with another man in
public, even slow dancing. I wondered, in passing, if he'd done it before.

"What
do you think of Phil?" asked Lily.

"Cool
guy. Great cameraman. Great editor. Why?"

"I
talk too much, but he doesn't seem to mind at all." She sighed. "Does
that mean he likes me?"

"Oh,
shit. You've got the
hots
for him?"

"Kind
of." She sighed again. "A lot."

"Aw,
Lily. What if he turns out to be like Mario? Or worse yet, like Pavol and
Libor? After all, Czechs seem to have a real...
uh...
fluid attitude
toward sex."

"I
don't think Phil's like Pavol and Libor."

"You've
discussed it?"

"Kind
of. You know me. I can't keep my mouth shut. See, he drops by my room every
night after Clay and Jay go to bed."

"Are
you actually doing it?"

"Well,
not quite, but almost." She gave me a wicked smile. "Sitting in that
editing room every day watching you guys go at it—I've learned a thing or two,
thank you. Phil says I give head better than anyone he's ever been with."

"Man
or woman?"

"Oh,
he's never been with a man. Not since he was twelve. You know, adolescent
experimentation."

"Do
you believe him?"

"I
want to. Do you?"

The conversation
was abruptly aborted, when the music changed to a driving number, and Phil and
Clark came back.

Phil held
out a hand to Lily "Shall we?"

I stepped
between them. "No. Now it's my turn."

I took
his hand and headed for the dance floor.

"Lilly
tells me you two have been hanging out a lot lately," I shouted over the
din, starting to bop around.

He nodded
without missing a beat. "Oh, more than that. Much more. Is that a problem
for you?"

"Nope.
I just don't want to see my sister get hurt."

"That
is not my intention."

"What
are your intentions?"

"Honorable.
Isn't that the word you Yanks use?" He stopped moving. "Lily is quite
amazing—mad as a hatter and sane as a nun. Both. Let me tell you something,
mate. Are you aware that she hasn't had a drink nor a joint since we became
involved? Out of deference to my problem. I never asked her to. She never
mentioned it. But she did it. For me."

"Then
why've you been so secretive about it?"

"There
was no point in mentioning it until it became... significant."

"And
that's what it is? Significant?"

He nodded
and waited.

"I
just don't want her to end up like
Pavol's
wife or
Libor's. Phil, I like you a lot, but... well, you have no trouble dancing with
another guy, you make your living filming gay porn, and you know more about
queer life than I do."

"True.
True. And true. But may I address your concerns? (A) I enjoy dancing with you
as much as you enjoy dancing with Lily, but that does not mean I want to shag
you any more than you want to shag her. (B) I shoot many subjects besides gay
pornography, but the most lucrative gigs are with men like Riggs and Jay. (C) I
have many gay friends, and I have learned much from them. They are like actors
in a foreign film to me. I observe, absorb, even learn a smattering of the language,
but I do not wish to perform in such films. Is that an answer?"

I blushed
with embarrassment. "I'm sorry."

"Now.
Do I speak to Clay or you about posting the bans?"

"You
mean..."

"I'm
going to ask her to marry me. Only not here in this bloody place."

I threw
my arms around him and hugged him, and he hugged me back. It was comforting to
note, as our bodies pressed firmly together, that he was not even the least bit
aroused.

Five
minutes later, Phil and Lily had vanished, so Clark and I headed for the
smoking patio. We'd just lit up when we heard a familiar voice.

"Hi.
Remember us?"

"The
Hudson Twins."

We spun
around. There they were in the flesh. Different tank tops but the same tight
white pants. The same packages.

"Been
looking for you," one of them said. "Where..."

“...have
you been?"

Clark and
I locked eyes.

"Out
of town." In unison.

"Prague?"

That
caught us off-guard. "Prague?"

They
winked in sync. "Word gets around..."

“...blond
mystery twins. We..."

“...figured
it was you."

"No
shit?" In unison.

"See,
our producer knows Ed Riggs..."

“...who's
been telling everyone..."

“...what
a great flick you guys made. You know..."

“...we've
made a film, too. Have you seen it?"