dontravis.com blog post #598
Last week, Mark Wildyr’s story of trouble among triplets, two identical and one fraternal was told from the viewpoint of Yep, the neutral identical. Today, we conclude the story by hearing from Yup, the fraternal (and victim) triplet.
****
By Mark Wildyr
YUP
I don’t believe it. One of the
two guys I shared the womb with has a problem with me. And I do mean a problem.
Last week he picked a fight with me by talking trash about a girl I know he
likes. Just because she picked me over him. Okay, so I do believe it. I just
don’t understand it.
We used to get along, all
three of us, like the triplets we were. Went everywhere together. Did
everything together. Buddies… buds… brothers. Now it’s me against Yip with Yep
standing in the middle trying to figure out which way to dodge. That fight I
mentioned? It was a real fight. I merely defended myself at first, but when it
was clear he was out to hurt, I started slugging it out with him. Dunno where
it’d have ended if dad hadn’t stepped in.
Things went from bad to worse
last semester when he got thrown off the basketball team for trying to provoke
a fight with me during a practice game. But worse went to worst last Friday
when the soccer coach threw him off the field for bad sportsmanship. Kept
trying to hurt me with the ball while I was playing goalie. I felt sorta bad
over that one because soccer is Yip’s game. Pretty good at it when he plays the
game instead of plays to hurt.
Tomorrow, I’m gonna try to see
if I can’t work things out with my brother. Families oughta hang together, not tear
one another apart. Tonight, I just want a good night’s sleep, and in the
morning, I’ll say whatever I have to to set things straight.
I tried to still my mind—you
know, rehearsing what I was gonna say tomorrow—but it wasn’t easy. I’d about enticed
the sandman through the bedroom door, when a “whomp” brought me wide awake.
The night outside my window
lit up like Christmas. It took me a minute to figure out something was on fire.
I pulled open the curtain and found it was my car. I’d been low on gas, and
that sound I heard was the fumes in my tank going off. Now the back end was
burning away merrily.
I pulled on trousers and loafers
and raced outside, but there wasn’t much I could do. Both my brothers showed up
in the yard, and Dad wasn’t far behind, already on his cell to 911. The fire
truck arrived first with the police not far behind.
The fire department was
efficient, the police… not so much. There’d been a couple of similar incidents
on the other side of town, but nobody’d been busted for it. The cops decided
the miscreants—their word—had moved to this neighborhood. But I knew better.
All I had to do was look at Yip’s smug kisser, and I knew. Still, I couldn’t
accuse my brother of arson, not even when he mouthed “how do you like them
apples,” when nobody else was looking.
The car was a total loss.
“Don’t worry, insurance will
take care of it,” Yip said in a consoling tone of voice when we all went back
in the house to try and get some sleep after all the responders left.
Yeah right. Whoever came out
ahead when dealing with an insurance company?
****
“Jerry, I can’t see you
anymore.”
Cindy was the only person
alive who called me Jerry. To the rest of the world, I was Yup. I sorta liked
being Jerry, but I didn’t like what I was hearing. With my blood running cold
in my veins, I put a hand to her cheek and forced her to look at me. Other kids
swirled around us as we stood in the school’s hallway.
“What are you saying? We get
along great. I… I love you, Cindy.”
She clasped my hand and pulled
it away. “I have feelings for you too, but… but I can’t take the pressure. I
hate getting up in the morning anymore.”
“Why?”
“Yip calls me every day. Tells
me I’ve gotta break up with you.”
“You can’t let him tell you
what to do.”
“I even told my folks, and
they called your folks, but it didn’t do any good. He quit for a day and
started back up.”
“Tell your dad again.”
“It won’t do any good.”
“Call the police and tell them
you’re being harassed.”
“Oh, I couldn’t do that!”
“You’d break up with me before
you’d go to the police?”
She was silent for a long
moment, head bowed, her long brown hair shielded her face, denying me the
opportunity to study her big, brown eyes. Her eyes were her best feature.
“He… he said you were queer…
uh, gay. That you went to Lincoln Haverson after our dates and… and….”
“And you believe him?” I
demanded in a harsher voice than I intended.
She glanced up, those fabulous
eyes troubled. “I… I don’t know. We just need to cool it for a while.” After
those words, Cindy ran for the exit.
“I’ll take care of it!” I
yelled after her.
****
Yip was waiting for me when I
got home. He sat on the front porch with his beach bag between his feet. I knew
it held his swimsuit, a brightly colored beach towel, and some sun lotion. But
I didn’t know what else was in there, and these days I suspected he was toting.
Our dad was a gun rights activist, and saw that all three of us had a Ruger’s
pistol and a Winchester .30-.30 rifle.
“Hello,
Yup, you don’t look happy,” he said with a shit-eating grin on his face.
“You son-of-a-bitch,
what lies have you been telling Cindy?
“Cindy?”
he asked with a smirk on his face, letting me know it wasn’t just Cindy he’d spread
his filthy rumors to. “Just wondered why you and the town queer were so close,
that’s all. Thought maybe she’d ask you and clear it up.”
“Lincoln
and I are acquaintances, not friends.”
“Seem friendly
to me. But then, you’re a friendly guy.”
“I don’t
treat him like dirt, like the rest of the school does.”
He
spread his hands. “There you go. Friends. Does he give a good blowjob?”
“I
wouldn’t know,” I said. “But you probably do.”
Yip gave
that smile that made him so handsome and so infuriating all at the same time. “Matter
of fact, I do. He gives a great one when a guy gets hard up. Gotta run. Meeting
the guys at the school pool.”
He
grabbed his beach bag—which seemed awfully heavy to me—and brushed past me on
the way to his car. I sat on the porch for thirty minutes to think things over.
Maybe I should go to Dad. In the past he’d just tut-tutted his way around a
problem between us, blamed everybody and done nothing.
Mom was
a little more effective, but I didn’t want to get her in the middle of this,
especially if he was throwing the “queer” word around.
The
cops? Sibling rivalry. Plus, they tended to be unsympathetic to anyone labeled
gay, true or not.
The coaches
at school? Possibly, because they already knew how he acted toward me.
After
some more thought, something became clear. I needed to handle this on my own.
Man up, Yup, man up. I went to my room for a moment before starting for the pool…
hiking because I hadn’t been able to replace my car yet. That was okay, it wasn’t
a long walk. It would give me time to get in the proper frame of mind for what I
had to do.
With
that thought, I wondered if anyone thought it strange I wore a windbreaker this
time of year. But I needed a jacket to conceal my Ruger.
****
Quite
a ride. All I can say is that Yup thinks long and hard on that walk to the
school swimming pool. Otherwise, there’s gonna be blood in the water, and we
don’t need any more of that senseless action.
Hope
you enjoyed Mark’s tale.
Stay safe
and stay strong.
Now my
mantra: Keep on reading and keep on writing. You have something to say…
so say it!
A link
to The Cutie-Pie Murders:
https://www.dropbox.com/s/ambxgy7e5ndmimk/CutiePieMurders%5BThe%5D.zip?dl=0
My
personal links:
Email: don.travis@aol.com.
Facebook: www.facebook.com/donald.travis.982
Twitter: @dontravis3
See you next Thursday.
Don
New Posts every Thursday morning at 6:00 a.m. US Mountain time.
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