PARADOX OF THE TWINS – BRIAN YAPKO
Rachel Miller looked up at the hot Albuquerque sky after hearing the sound of a supersonic jet overhead. “It was nothing, Dad,” she said. “Just an F-57 flying to Kirtland.” Her father’s hopeful expression melted into a frown. He returned to watching his favorite courtroom show on the holovision.
Rachel sighed, then approached the elderly man carrying a tray which held dessert along with his afternoon pills.
“I don’t want any stinking jello, dammit” roared Lt. Charles Logan, Space Agency retiree, now a loyal fan of Vile Jury Verdicts.
“Dad, it’s to help you swallow the pills....”
“Don’t want any stinking pills either.” He struck his cane at the tray. The contents flew across the living room. He was in a peevish mood. The desert heat was giving him a headache. “Rachel,
I think you and the kids should go home.”
Rachel closed her eyes. She missed the man her father used to be. Chuck had really changed since Amanda died last year after 61 years of marriage. He used to tell jokes and share amazing tales of his years in the service. He used to smile. With Amanda’s death, Chuck had become irascible and uncaring. At the funeral he said he would prefer to join her in the grave but that he had to stick around in case Billy returned. Chuck held onto the fantasy of a reunion.
Rachel kept her temper. “Fine. We’ll leave as soon as I clean up this mess.”
“You shouldn’t have been so clumsy,” Chuck said distractedly. Judge Ocksy had started to instruct the jury.
Rachel stopped picking pills off the floor and glared at the stranger her father had become. “Dad, you may be 86 years old, but you act more like a child than either of my kids. Jill! Connor!” she called out. “We’re leaving.”
Two children came running from the backyard and into the house.
“Kiss grandpa goodbye.”
Chuck turned from the holovision, his gruff expression softening at the sight of the children. He looked up at Rachel and, for a fleeting moment, she saw the old Chuck. “Now these guys... they have their whole lives to look forward to. He roughed Conner’s hair and patted Jill on the arm. “Children, remember something. Friends may come and go in life but siblings are forever. Be good to each other. Stay best friends.” The children shrugged and kissed him on the cheek.
Rachel smiled sadly. “Why can’t you always be this nice, Dad?”
“Your mother was the nice one, Rachel. At my age, nice is a luxury I can’t afford. Waking up
in the morning... now that’s what matters. And good grandkids like these instead of your rotten brother’s brood of con-men.” He made a dismissive gesture and went back to watching Vile Jury Verdicts.
Dad, you know that Frank loves you.”
In response to that outrageous lie, Chuck muted the holovision and faced Rachel squarely. “Does he now? Frank and his stinking kids didn’t even show up for the funeral. They can go to hell!”
Rachel glared at her father. “Jeez, Dad. The children. Mind your tongue.”
“My tongue. My blood pressure. My diabetes. What don’t I have to mind? Just go home and give me some peace already!”
Rachel sighed and kissed her father. “I’ll see you Friday.”
“I’m busy, dammit! What date is that?”
“Friday, June 29. Oh, it's 2126, if you’ve forgotten the year.”
“Haven’t forgotten nothing. Fine. Now git!”
Rachel led the children out the front door.
Chuck watched from behind the window curtains as they drove off. Finally alone, Chuck grabbed his cane, hobbled out to the front porch and looked up at the cloudless sky.
“When are you coming back, Billy? When you coming back?”
Chuck wiped his eyes and went back inside to watch the rest of his show.
* * *
The following day, Rachel was at work at the National Laboratory when she got a call from
the Albuquerque Fire Department. Chuck had almost set his kitchen on fire. He had fallen and was being transported to the hospital.
The fire department got to the house before any real damage was done. Rachel had installed fire monitors soon after Amanda had died. Otherwise, things might have gone very badly.
Chuck was taken to Albuquerque General. He was fine, more or less. Some smoke inhalation and a sprain to his right wrist from where he fell trying to get at the fire extinguisher. His hip had some bad bruising but the x-rays showed no fractures.
Rachel raced from Los Alamos to Albuquerque and arrived at the hospital just as Chuck was being discharged. Dr. Gomez told her that he wanted Chuck to stay overnight for observation but that her father’s reaction had been a hostile “screw that.”
Rachel closed her eyes, counted to ten, and then got the car. “Just get me home,” Chuck said. “A one-time accident. Could’ve happened to anyone!”
Rachel wanted to stay overnight but Chuck said “like hell you will. Just make me a sandwich, give me the remote and I’ll be fine.” Rachel checked on the kitchen. It was a mess but she had the next day off to put it in order.
She left Chuck watching holovision. Before leaving, she asked the next-door neighbor to keep an eye on him.
Finally alone, Chuck sighed, struggling to use the remote with his injured hand. Just then a plane from Kirtland flew overhead. He hobbled over to the window and looked at the sky. His eyes were moist. “When you coming back, Billy? I need you.”
* * *
On Friday, June 29, 2126, Rachel arrived at Chuck’s house with admission papers for Arroyo Acres -- an assisted living which catered to Space Force veterans. She steeled herself for the foul reaction she knew was inevitable.
“Put those damned papers in the garbage,” Chuck said.
“Let’s face it, Dad. You can’t live alone anymore. I can’t be here everyday and your reflexes have slowed down.”
“Your Uncle Billy...”
“Uncle William disappeared in space sixty years ago! He isn’t coming back! Keeping a room for him is pointless.”
“He’s getting one-half of this house!”
“He can’t inherit it if he’s dead! Face reality!”
Rachel’s words hit Chuck hard. The old veteran put his face in his hands and began to sob. “We’re twins. I’d... know if he was dead. He’s alive. He’ll be back.”
Rachel regretted her harshness. “Maybe I’m wrong, Dad. Maybe... he’ll be back. I’m sorry I upset you.”
“Alright, Rachel. Put the brochure for that old age home on the table. I’ll look through it after you’re gone.”
“If you agree, we could move you in there next week.”
“No way in hell that I’d leave here until after August.”
Rachel suppressed annoyance. “What’s so magical about waiting until after August?”
“Rachel! That’s when Billy’s due to come back!”
Rachel did not let her father see her react to this dementia. “Read the Arroyo Acres brochure, Dad. I think it’s best.”
“Don’t give a rat’s ass what you think is best, honey. Go home.”
Rachel snorted and walked out. “See you next week.”
Under his breath, Chuck said, “If I must.”
* * *
The following afternoon, Chuck sat in his easy chair watching Vile Jury Verdicts. The case involved a brother suing his brother. “Cain and Abel,” Chuck muttered. “I’d never do that to you, Billy.”
He limped over to the photos in the hallway. There was one of Chuck and Billy back in 2050. They were both ten. Identical twins, with freckles and the same gap between their front teeth. Billy wore a baseball cap, Chuck had his shirt off. They both had their arms in casts. Their treehouse had collapsed dropping them both to the ground. They each broke an arm. Chuck had loved those days of innocent adventure back in rural Illinois. Billy-Bud. His brother. His best friend.
Another photo showed Chuck and Billy at their high school prom. Two mischievous peas in a pod. They played a mean trick on their dates. Wearing identical tuxes, they switched dates midway through the prom. Sheila and Ursula never even guessed.
And there was Chuck and Amanda’s wedding the year before the lift-off. Billy had drunk too much but, as Chuck’s best man he had raised his champagne glass to give the most moving of toasts. Billy was a good brother. He had also become a close and loving friend to Amanda.
Chuck wiped his eyes.
Finally, there was Chuck and Billy in their Agency uniforms at the age of 26. They were easily told apart at this point: Lt. William Logan was carrying a space helmet. Lt. Charles Logan was not. While Chuck stayed home, Billy would be the twin to travel near light-speed to test Einstein’s theory of relativity.
He put his hand on Billy’s image. What are you doing up there, Billy? he wondered. In the time it takes you to speak a sentence, have I gone through a week of life? In one year for you on board the Pollux, have I lived out my entire flight career? What amazing things do you see? Quasars, nebulae? Stars to make you go blind?
Chuck walked over to the window. And what do I see? Desert. A grim weekly visit from Rachel but never a visit from my stinking son, Frank. You see supernovas. I see pills and Vile Jury Verdicts. You have a lifetime ahead of you. I sit here waiting for my own creeping death.
Chuck began reading the papers from Arroyo Acres before his afternoon nap but couldn’t bear it. He put aside the pictures of retirees doing leg lifts in the pool and picked up the old Space Agency briefs describing the Paradox of the Twins experiment. He fell asleep thinking about old people, special relativity and time dilation.
* * *
Einstein’s Paradox of the Twins posited that if identical twins were separated – if one stayed on Earth while the other boarded a rocket and traveled close to light speed – the Earth twin would age in accordance with Earth time, while the space twin – his time dramatically dilated by relativity -- would age far more slowly.
With the discovery of the C-Drive, the Space Agency decided to finally prove the theory. And so, on August 22, 2066, identical twins Charles Logan and William Logan said goodbye. Joining the crew of the Pollux along with four other separated twins, Billy blasted into space for a three year mission. But while the mission would take three years of Billy’s life, from Chuck’s point of view, the mission would last for sixty Earth years. Since Chuck and Billy were both twenty-six when the voyage began, Chuck would be eighty-six when Billy returned to Earth. Technically, Billy would also be eighty-six but with the relativistic slowing of his time he would return to Earth as a still young 29 year old. The “paradox” inquired how identical twins could age sixty years apart? But there really was no paradox. Time dilation accounted for the difference.
But what happens when one twin grows old while his brother stays young? How do brothers relate when the twin on Earth has sixty years of life experience to draw on, while the space-faring twin remains a callow youth?
Einstein never foresaw the human consequences.
* * *
In early July, Rachel visited Chuck with a social worker. In Chuck’s view, there was no reason for it, even if there had been a small house fire. They were trying to say he wasn’t competent to live alone! Damn them!
And where did this social worker get off asking personal questions about his family and where things stood legally with his estate? If Rachel hadn’t been there, he’d have thrown her out the door.
Yes, he was well off. He’d been careful. This house was worth well over two million dollars.
There was also savings and life insurance. Some might call Chuck Logan a wealthy man.
Yes, Rachel was a good daughter. She and her husband, Steve, worked at the National Laboratory. She and the grandkids came down from Los Alamos and visited Chuck regularly. Rachel also came on her day off and made sure he had food prepared. No, he wasn’t too hard on her. He and Amanda gave her life, didn’t they?
Other than losing his brother Billy – and Billy was coming back, Chuck could feel it! – the only sour note in Chuck’s life was his son, Frank. Frank was twelve years older than Rachel -- born in 2066, shortly after the Pollux took off. He was a screwed up con man who was in and out of prison for an array of fraudulent activity. No wife. Katie had disappeared into the hypodermic back street of lost souls over twenty years ago. Frank had two boys – Stu and Roger. Hadn’t seen them in years. Stu was the younger one. Probably twenty-five and out on the street somewhere. Roger, the felon, was the older one – he’d be about thirty by now - if he wasn’t dead. They were all disinherited!
Chuck had his lawyer write Frank and his sons out of his will. His entire estate – especially this old house --would go to Rachel – that is, unless Billy returned from space. If Billy returned from space and if Billy fathered children within five years of his return, then he would receive 50% of the house. If Billy returned from space but didn’t have children, he’d get to live in the house for life, but upon his death, the whole house would go to Rachel.
Rachel didn’t react to these details of Chuck’s estate plan other than to shrug when he explained about Billy’s unborn children.
Chuck reasoned that if Billy returned, Billy would still be a young man. He’d need a place to
live and money to build his life. On the other hand, if Billy didn’t have kids, why squander the Logan legacy on a genetic dead end?
Rachel’s 50% would be enough for her and the grandkids. Besides, the Los Alamos Lab paid pretty darned well. Rachel had nothing to worry about. And since Frank and his rotten kids were officially disinherited, they had nothing to worry about either.
After Rachel and the social worker finally left, Chuck spit on his own floor. None of this stuff was their stinking business!
* * *
On August 1st, Rachel came to take Chuck to the nursing home. Chuck refused to go. He had to wait for Billy! Plus, Chuck was fine living alone! He wore a monitor around his neck in case he fell or there was a fire. He just couldn’t leave this house with all of its memories of Amanda.
Chuck and Rachel settled on a compromise. Rachel would hire someone to come in during the day to clean, cook and dispense medications. They would try this for one month and then assess whether it was viable over the long run.
There was one other little matter. Rachel had heard from Frank. Frank and his sons wanted to come and visit Chuck. Chuck sneered. Felony Frank and his drug-addled boys? Bah.
Later, after Rachel left, Chuck entered his bedroom, went to the dresser and started arguing with his daughter in his head. “Overprotective, controlling.” He yanked the monitor off from around his neck and put it on the dresser. “Don’t worry, Rachel. I’m protected. More protected than you realize.”
He chuckled softly, opened his underwear drawer and pulled out a gun. He practiced aiming
it and cocking the trigger. He was pleased that his firearm skills had held up over the years.
* * *
It was only 11:30 a.m. but August 22, 2126 had already become a hot Albuquerque Saturday. Carmela, the housekeeper, should have arrived at 10:00 a.m. Chuck supposed she was running late.
Rachel was gone. She and Steve had to go to Los Angeles to attend some science convention. They turned it into a family vacation and brought the kids. Chuck actually smiled when he got the news. Rachel’s absence would give him some breathing space.
With Rachel gone, Chuck was truly alone for the first time since Amanda died. Fine by him. He had plenty of food and on Thursday he had slipped Carmela fifty bucks to buy him a 12 pack of beer, keep the change and keep the secret. With no one to account to, Chuck could enjoy a beer or two and maybe even open the bottle of scotch he’d kept hidden for a rainy day.
Heaven. No nagging. In the evening it would be just him, a Budweiser or two, and Vile Jury Verdicts. It was all good. Except... He looked up at the sky and sighed. Maybe Rachel was right. Maybe Billy was never coming...
And then, precisely at noon a taxicab pulled up.
Puzzled, Chuck looked out the front window and – holy Toledo! It couldn’t be! – there had been no news reports, no emails, not even a call from the Agency.
There was his twin brother, Lt. William Logan, stepping out of a cab, paying the cabdriver and striding to the front of his house carrying a duffelbag! Holy Toledo, Billy was home from space!
Chuck stared. Billy looked so young! Looking at his own face in the mirror by the front door, Chuck’s heart sank. He looked so old. Why, he could be Billy’s grandfather!
Chuck flung the door open before the doorbell rang. “You young pup!” he cried. “Billy! Billy-Bud!”
“Chucky! Chuck-a-luck!” said Billy. “Gosh darn, brother, you are a sight for sore eyes!”
“Billy, just look at you! I always knew you’d come back. Now here you are and you look...”
“Like a space alien? Sorry to disappoint you, Chucky. My eyes haven’t turned silver. Still can’t levitate.”
“Just as funny as I remembered! Aw, Billy!”
They hugged hard and patted each other’s backs for a good minute. Then Billy said, “Aren’t you gonna invite me in?”
“Sorry, I’m just excited! Come on in, Billy-Bud! Let me grab that...”
“Naw, Chuck. Let me do it. You look like you could use a rest.”
Chuck frowned but couldn’t argue the point as he followed Billy through the front door into the living room.
“Chuck, you look great for a...”
“Just say it! The truth is, I’m an old man. But look at you! Like you just got out of high school! So... what year do you think this is? I mean what year does your body think this is?”
Billy shrugged. “That’s the whole Pollux experiment in a nutshell isn’t it? Chuck, I know it’s 2126, but if you check my diary, it’s only 2069.”
Chuck whistled. “Sixty years...”
Billy looked around the living room. “Damn I’ve missed this place. I’ve missed an awful lot, haven’t I?”
Chuck frowned. “You can’t have missed this house too much, Billy! Amanda and I bought it after the Pollux launched. Maybe you’ve never been here, but you sure will from now on!” Chuck couldn’t keep the tears off his cheeks. “You young pup!”
Billy looked towards the kitchen. “Amanda?”
Chuck’s face sank. “She’s gone, Billy. Cancer. Just last year.”
Billy pursed his lips sympathetically. “You have children, right? Amanda was pregnant when the Pollux launched.”
“I’ll tell you all about it over lunch. Carmela made tamales yesterday. We can share them.”
“Who’s Carmela?”
“The woman who ... she cooks for me, Billy. That’s all.”
“I think our reunion deserves a celebration, don’t you? We could go to La Panza Gorda, get some margaritas, see some girls...”
“Billy, La Panza Gorda closed forty years ago.”
Billy clicked his teeth. “I guess there’s a lot I’m going to have to get used to. You still like Johnny Walker, don’t you?”
Chuck put his finger to his mouth. “Shhh, Billy. No one knows but I’ve got a little stash. The doctor told me to watch the alcohol. Diabetes. If I have too much sugar and forget my insulin...” he made a slit-throat motion across his neck.
Billy looked at Chuck with mischief in his face. “That’s what you say, but one little drink
won’t hurt you, will it?“ He looked searchingly at Chuck. “You’re 86 years old. I’m 86 too, but I feel like I’m 20.”
“Yeah, rub it in. Anyway, Billy-Bud, let me show you where you’re sleeping.”
“You don’t mind me staying here awhile?”
“You live here, Billy! Now go unpack and then we’ll catch up!”
As Billy went to his room Chuck couldn’t help but reflect on how wrong Rachel had been. He was glad he’d kept that spare room free for Billy. Strange, though, that Billy seemed to remember a house he’d never been in.
As they sat in the living room, Billy talked about life adventuring through space and Chuck talked about life with Amanda.
Then, while Billy was in the kitchen getting them both beers, Billy commented that Rachel must really run a tight ship. When Billy said that Chuck was still in the living room. His smile froze and slowly left his face.
Chuck hadn’t mentioned Rachel by name. Not yet. How did Billy know?
For the first time, Chuck began to wonder. Was this man in the kitchen really Billy?
“Hey, Billy!,” Chuck called out. “Remember how you used to call me ‘Woodchuck’ when we were kids?”
Billy walked into the living room carrying the beers. “Sure! Those were the days, Woodchuck!”
As Billy started to talk about sex in space, Chuck barely listened. His thoughts had started to spin. Billy had never called him Woodchuck in his life! What in hell was going on? And if the
Pollux had truly returned to Earth, why wasn’t it on the news? Where were the parades and the interviews?
Was this man an imposter posing as Billy Logan? Plastic surgery these days... But what would be the point of that? On the other hand, a lot of strange things could happen in space. Maybe near-light speed had affected Billy’s memory or his personality.
His eyes narrow and suspicious, Chuck interrupted Billy mid-sentence. “Gotta go to the head, Billy. I’ll be right out!”
“Fine,” Billy said as he inspected Amanda’s silver tea service.
Chuck looked at him from the corner of his eye, clenched his jaw, hobbled to the bedroom, opened the top drawer of his dresser and retrieved his gun. It fit just fine in the pocket of his robe.
* * *
Two hours later, Chuck and Billy had each had three beers. Chuck drew the line at bringing out the whiskey. With diabetes, he could only risk so much. In the meantime, Billy’s explanation about his anonymous arrival had somewhat assuaged Chuck’s fears.
“Don’t you get it, Chuck? Of course I want the whole world to know what I’ve experienced! But at the debriefing in Los Alamos they said that since the Pollux took off, our mission became top secret. I’m not officially here and there can be no press coverage of our arrival. Not until it’s declassified, and they wouldn’t say how long that would take.”
Billy’s answer seemed to satisfy him. “But why’d they take you all the way to Los Alamos to debrief you?”
“National security, Chuck. That’s where all the secrets are kept.”
“Mmm.” Chuck looked into his twin brother’s face and his suspicions began to melt. Billy-Bud Logan! Purveyor of tall tales, procurer of trouble, best friend!
They sat in the living room with the holovision off. Billy offered to get Chuck another beer. Against his better judgment, Chuck said yes. All this beer was getting to his head – and his pancreas. He’d have to watch it.
“Let’s turn on the holovision, Chuck. These devices sure have changed in sixty years. Never expected to see televisions go holo!”
Then the telephone rang. Chuck handed the remote control to Billy so he could answer his call.
It was the service that provided Chuck with domestic help. They had terrible news. Carmela had been in a catastrophic vehicle accident. A hit-and-run. She was dead. It had happened that morning around 11:00 a.m. They wouldn’t be able to send anyone over for at least a week.
Chuck gulped, “thank you” and put the phone down. He stared at the back of Billy’s head as he watched him play with the holo-clicker with one hand and down an entire beer in one gulp with the other. Billy turned around and looked at Chuck.
“Everything okay, Woodchuck?”
Chuck took a few seconds to collect himself. He patted the gun in his robe pocket for reassurance.
“Yes, Billy-Bud. Everything’s... just fine.”
* * *
The next day, Billy walked to the store and bought more beer. He was bored stiff by Vile Jury Verdicts and just wanted to drink. At one point he slurred, “Chucky, don’t worry about a thing. Since Rachel won’t be back for another week, I’ll take care of everything for you. I’m your new-old best friend!”
Chuck tried to hide his alarm. “You don’t have to do this, Billy. You must have better things to do than take care of an old man.”
“You’re my brother, Chuck! Besides...“ he said casually, “the house is half-mine anyway, isn’t it?”
Chuck looked up sharply, his eyes narrowing. So that was it. Billy – or whoever this was – was here for the house!
“Now why would you think that, William Logan?”
Billy shrugged. “That was the deal we made on the tarmac at Kirtland. Since I was going to be gone so long, you and Amanda wanted to make sure I wouldn’t be penniless when I got back. You promised to give me a share of the family home. We shook on it.”
Chuck was being played, he was certain of it. “What are you talking about, Billy? There was no deal! If there had been, we would have drawn up papers! Besides, why would you want this house? You’ve been gainfully employed in space for 60 years! You’re entitled to one helluva lump sum of back-pay. You’re richer than I’ll ever be!”
Billy, flush from beer, looked slightly confused. “Well, I’m not. I... I didn’t defer my pay, Chuck.”
“Oh really. Where’d it go?”
Billy thought for a moment. “It, uh, went to some organizations for widows and orphans.”
“Really, Billy? Widows and orphans. How sweet. All this time?”
“All this time. So you see, I arrive home with nothing. I need my share of this house.”
“Well, you can’t have it! The way I’ve got it worked out, one-half of the house Amanda and I lived in for sixty years goes to our daughter. And if you return to Earth after gallivanting around the galaxy then you inherit the other half. After I die. And only if you have children.”
“What?”
“I’m not wasting the Logan legacy on someone who doesn’t have a next generation on deck. What’s the point of that? So you can sell out your half and screw Rachel? No way. You have to have children to carry on the Logan family name. And you have to do it within five years. The clock is ticking, Billy.”
“Hypothetically, what if I already have kids?”
“Space children? Give me a break, Billy.”
“You say that Rachel gets everything.”
“Yep.”
“What about your son?”
“Frank? I disinherited the bastard.”
Billy’s bleary eyes cleared momentarily. “You did what?”
“He’s almost 60 years old. He’s made his own bed and the stinking bastard’s going to stay there. He doesn’t love me and he didn’t love his mother. He’s history.”
“But what about Frank’s kids? The... your grandsons?”
“To hell with them. And, Billy, I don’t care if you’re my brother or not. I’m changing nothing. You arrive home from space, you claim to give away sixty years of salary, and you try to dump that onto me? That’s bullshit! There was never any deal on the tarmac. You...” Chuck stopped when he saw Billy crumple. “Billy?”
Billy was almost passed out on the couch from too much drink. “You’re not acting much like a brother, Chuck,” he slurred and then fell asleep.
“Neither are you, Billy.” Chuck shook his head. “Neither are you.”
* * *
When Billy woke up three hours later, Chuck claimed a headache. He peeked out from inside his bedroom door and saw Billy lying on the couch drinking beer and watching holovision.
Chuck had always imagined that if his identical twin returned, he’d be complete again. His heart would sing. Their secret language. Their special memories. They were partners in crime. Partners in crime?
A light came on. Dammit but if Billy didn’t act like... well one of stinking Frank’s rotten felon sons! One of them, Roger, was just about 30 years old. Could it be...?
When Chuck joined Billy in the living room he started asking
questions: What was Mom’s favorite food? Who was their 10th grade geography teacher? The problem was, Chuck couldn’t remember most of the answers himself. If Billy said it was Mr. McLoughlin when he remembered it as being Miss Graham, well he couldn’t be sure. Especially when Billy found Chuck’s old yearbook and proved to him that Mr. McLoughlin was, in fact, their teacher.
Of course, if Billy Logan was actually Roger Logan, he could have been prepped to answer questions correctly. Just like the imposter woman in that old movie, Anastasia.
Billy sat on the sofa drinking a beer and looking at family photographs. Seeing Billy studying the pictures infuriated Chuck.
“Billy,” Chuck said, masking his anger. “When Rachel gets back I think you should leave. You’re a strapping young man! You’ve got a new century to explore, a career to revive, a family to start. You shouldn’t be stuck here babysitting an old man.”
Billy looked up at Chuck. There was no love in his eyes. “As feeble as you’ve gotten, brother, I wonder why you even stay in this house.”
Chuck’s jaw dropped. “What?”
“Yes. I’ve been thinking. Isn’t this house too big for you? The cleaning, all these steps? And... there’s smoke damage in your cupboard. You had a fire, didn’t you. What happened? Did you let the lamb chops burn?”
“Billy! You have no right...!”
“You better believe I have the right! This house is 50% mine – that’s what you told me 60 years ago. I’m not letting that go!”
“Dammit, Billy. After I’m dead, not now! And only if you have children to carry on the family name! Right now I do with this house as I please!”
“Don’t think I’m just concerned about the house, Chuck. I’m saying this because I love you. I want you to be somewhere they can look after you.”
Love?! The insolence of the bastard! “Billy, don’t make me cut you off completely.”
“Like you cut off your own son and grandchildren?”
“You weren’t here, Billy! You have no idea what it’s like to have a kid go bad! While you were off exploring the stars I was stuck in godforsaken Albuquerque doing my best to raise a family. Don’t you dare lecture me!”
Billy ignored him, still looking at old photographs. “Look at him!” he said. “That’s Frank, isn’t it?”
Chuck’s grunt meant yes. Photos from when Frank and his boys last visited this house 15 years ago. Chuck glanced at the pictures of the grandsons with Amanda. Billy commented on how much Roger, the older boy, looked like them when they were at that age.
Chuck stared at Billy not at all convinced that this wasn’t Roger himself saying these things. He looked him dead in the eye. “Roger turned out to be the worst of all. Last I heard, he was in prison as an accessory to a murder in a drug deal gone bad.”
“Is that a fact? Well, well.” Billy took a swig of beer. “Roger Logan an accessory? What exactly did Roger do?”
“Felony murder. Some of his gangbanger friends robbed a liquor store. He drove the getaway car. Later on, at the trial, Roger claimed he had no idea his friends had shot the clerk.”
“So Roger Logan wasn’t at the crime scene and he didn’t know a murder took place and yet Roger got convicted for it?”
“Pretty much.”
Billy became impassioned. “And you don’t think Roger Logan served his time? Maybe deserves a second chance, a fresh start?”
“Billy, there are people in this world who make mistakes who deserve redemption. And there are people who have nothing but fraud in their hearts. They don’t get second chances.”
“And, Chuck, there are people who have miserable, stingy hearts who would throw away their own family rather than help them find their way back.”
Chuck looked away. He didn’t see the murderous resentment in Billy’s eyes.
* * *
Chuck’s diabetes wore him out. By 2:00 p.m. he needed his afternoon nap. It was now the third day since Billy had arrived and it was another scorcher. He lay down and told Billy he’d see him in an hour or so.
But he couldn’t rest with this... this stranger in the house. He got up at 2:30 to see what Billy was up to. He creeped out of his room and into the hallway where he heard Billy in Chuck’s study talking on his phone.
He heard Billy say, yes, he saw the documents. And yes, they were just as they had discussed. No, they weren’t fair. He would have them “rectified” right away, either the easy way – or the hard way.
Chuck began to shake. He silently backed down the hallway into his bedroom and carefully shut the door.
A half-hour later, when Chuck pretended to get up, Billy offered to make him some coffee. Chuck said, “swell” and went into his office.
“Goddamned fool” he cursed himself. He had left his will out on a corner of his desk. Could he really have been that careless?
* * *
For dinner, Billy decided to barbecue some steaks, cooking them just the way he had when they camped together back in the early 2060s. In fact, with Billy acting much like his old self, Chuck began to lower his guard. He began to feel cheap and foolish for giving Billy a hard time about the house when he had always wanted the twins to share and share alike. He decided it was time to bring out the whiskey and make peace. They each drank a shot and then ate their steaks.
But in the course of their dinner conversation, there were too many memory-facts that Chuck noticed were wrong – just wrong. And Billy let drop some street slang that sound remarkably contemporary. How did he pick that up if he had truly been on the Pollux all this time?
Once they were done eating, Billy and Chuck had another whiskey shot each and then started on the beer. Billy poured a big glass for Chuck, who resisted at first but finally gave in to temptation. Billy raised his glass and, with a slight slur, said, “To Amanda Logan.” Chuck raised his eyebrow, lifted his glass and downed the beer. What brand was it? It seemed awfully sweet.
After another glass of beer, Billy said, “You know, Chuck, I’ve been thinking. I’m only twenty-nine. I’ve decided to go back and work for the Agency – probably another mission in space which will keep me occupied for another 50 years. I won’t have time for a wife or kids. I don’t need you to give me half of this house.”
Chuck was deeply relieved. But then Billy continued. “But, to be honest, I don’t think it’s fair for you to disinherit Frank and his boys. I think they should get my half.”
Now why would Billy...? Chuck looked at Henry as if he’d never seen him before. “You spied
on my documents.”
“Aw, come on, Chuck. You left your will out and I just happened to glance at it. The truth is, I don’t want the house. Why would I want to share it with Rachel, anyway? Let Rachel and Frank inherit it fifty-fifty and fight it out. You need to change your will.”
With the third can of beer, Chuck was certain he saw Billy put something in his glass. Sugar? Was Billy trying to push him into diabetic poisoning – kill him so he could forge a new will?
Chuck closed his eyes. There was no longer any semblance of doubt. No news announcements about the Pollux. The old photos. The addict grandson he hadn’t seen in 15 years. He’d be damned if this wasn’t his grandson, Roger. And Roger was trying to kill him and forge his will so that he could get this house!
Chuck feigned fatigue and apologized. He needed to go to bed.
Billy said, “Aren’t you going to answer me about this?”
“Go to hell. Ain’t changing nothing. I’m going to my room.”
Billy answered sarcastically. “Fine. Sure thing, gramps.”
At that moment, Chuck whirled on him and shouted, “I knew it! You’re not Billy! Billy never came back from space.”
“You’re crazy, Chuck!”
Chuck began to feel dizzy. His diabetes. When Billy tried to take his arm, Chuck screamed, “Don’t touch me! You’re trying to kill me!”
Chuck swayed and Billy again grabbed at his left arm. Chuck’s eyes rotated wildly and he saw the kitchen counter – with the large knife missing! “Murderer! Fraud!” He used his right
hand to grab the whiskey bottle. He smashed it over Billy’s head. Billy crumpled to the ground. He tried to grab Chuck’s leg but Chuck hit him with his cane. Finally, Chuck pulled out his gun and pointed it directly at Billy.
“Sorry, Roger. The jig is up.”
Billy again said, “You’re crazy, Chuck!”
“Crazy, am I... you felonious...”
Billy sat up slowly, grew very calm and quietly said, “Chuckles McLogan... put the gun down.”
Time stood still for a moment as Chuck stared at him in shock. Billy had called him “Chuckles McLogan” when they were both 10 and they had laughed so hard in the treehouse back in Illinois that they didn’t notice the tree branch groaning and then breaking, causing them to fall and break their arms. From that point on, Billy had only ever called him by that private twin codename when they were really in trouble. And Chuck had never shared that nickname with anybody. Not anybody.
“Billy? It really is you!” Chuck gasped and began to approach Billy but as he stepped into the puddle of whiskey on the wet floor he slipped backwards. As he slipped, the gun went off and shot Billy directly in the chest.
Chuck moaned, “No, no, no!” barely noticing the pain in his neck.
Billy was alive, but barely. He whispered painfully, “Why, Chuck? Why?”
“Billy! I’m sorry I didn’t believe...”
“Chuck. Listen to me.” Billy was sinking so fast he could barely manage a whisper. “Chuck,
give him a chance. Give half the house to Frank. To Amanda’s son... to my son.” And with that, he was dead.
Even amidst the panting and dizziness Chuck’s jaw dropped. “Billy’s son? But that would mean Billy and Amanda... Never! All those years ago? Billy, you have to tell me...” he moaned, but as Chuck tried to rise to see if he could revive Billy, he saw the puddle of red mixing with the amber whiskey. A piece of broken glass was embedded in his neck. It had opened his carotid artery. He was bleeding to death after killing his beloved, long-awaited twin brother.
And there was nothing anybody could do about it.
* * *
The neighbors reported a gunshot. When the police arrived, they found two dead bodies on the kitchen floor. Vile Jury Verdicts was playing on the holovision. An hour into the investigation, just after the coroner arrived to remove the bodies, Rachel pulled up in her car.
She was hysterical.
The coroner left with the two corpses. Although it was a crime scene and they were tagging evidence, the cops allowed Rachel to stay in the house since she had national security clearance. Rachel ignored the blood in the kitchen, walked into her father’s study and found the will.
She smiled grimly to herself. The phone records would show that it was probably her father who had made that call to her at the National Lab. Nothing to do with an unfair will. Just inviting her to come for a pleasant family visit with him and her new-found uncle.
Poor Chuck! Rachel had forgotten to mention to her tragically dead father that her trip to Los Angeles had been cancelled; that Uncle William had stayed with her at the National Lab after
the Pollux had landed as part of the debriefing process; that she and Uncle William had discussed certain family matters; and that it was her suggestion that if Uncle William showed up at Chuck’s doorstep it would be “the biggest surprise of his life”.
Sadly, with her father now unable to revise his will, her brother/cousin Frank Logan and his no-account children would remain disinherited. Rachel was glad that she and her mother, Amanda, had had that heart-to-heart discussion before she died. Things should never have been allowed to get as far as they did.
Now with Chuck and Uncle William dead, the house was hers. Rachel ignored the detectives working in the kitchen. She ran her hands across the walls and lightly tested the mantle over the kiva for dust. When she was certain no one was looking, she smiled at herself in the mirror.
* * *
On August 25, 2126, the Albuquerque Sun Times ran with the lead story of an apparent murder-suicide in outer Albuquerque involving Lieutenant Charles Logan (retired) and a young man who authorities were still trying to identify.
On the inside page for that same date was a short article describing Space Agency news that had just been declassified. The long lost Pollux, which had launched on August 22, 2066 to perform scientific research on Einstein’s theory of relativity, had finally landed in New Mexico on August 15, 2126, after an absence of sixty years. All members of the Pollux crew were safe and sound, having apparently aged no more than three years.
Brian Yapko
is a lawyer in three states. His debut science fiction novel, El Nuevo Mundo, was published in Spring of 2022 by Rebel Satori Press and his novella, San Damien versus the Red Daggers will be published in 2023 by Bewildering Stories. He is the author of over one-hundred eighty published poems (including several prize winners) , two published children’s plays and multiple short stories. He lives in Santa Fe, New Mexico.