Thursday, May 4, 2023

Yip, Yap, and Yup, Part 3 of 3 Parts (A Guest Post) 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.



            YIP, YAP, AND YUP

By Mark Wildyr


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.”


“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:

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Twitter: @dontravis3

See you next Thursday.



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