The Legend of the Ditto Twins

The Legend of the Ditto Twins by Jerry Douglas Read Free Book Online Page A

Book: The Legend of the Ditto Twins by Jerry Douglas Read Free Book Online
Authors: Jerry Douglas
Tags: Fiction, Gay
fifteen!"
    "They'll have to find us."
    "And what will you use for
money? The last time I looked, you had $19.73 in your joint savings account and
maybe five dollars in your penny jar."
    I still can't believe what Clark said
next: "There are other ways for two good-looking young guys to make a
buck."
    "Yeah, easy money. Even in this
lousy town," I added, then winced at our rash response.
    Mom stiffened noticeably. "What
do you mean by that?"
    I took a step toward her. "You
figure it out."
    Clark did too. "Yeah, you're the
one with the dirty mind."
    "Now stop it! You just sit right
down and stop talking such filth. We’re doing this for your own good."
    "Bullshit!" Our retort
sounded like a Howitzer.
    "I will not have that kind of
language in my house."
    "Your house? Not Dad's
house?"
    "Not our house?"
    "Maybe we should find a new
house!" This from both of us.
    It was one of the few times in my
life I've ever seen Mom at a loss for words. She opened her mouth, but nothing
came out. Her matriarchal rule had been challenged, maybe for the first time
ever, and rebuttal had never before been an option for those who opposed her.
Our father was living proof of that.
    He wiped the corners of his mouth
with his napkin, leaned back, and interlaced his fingers around the back of his
head as if watching TV. No one noticed till he spoke.
    "Honey, did you mention the
bonus?"
    I've never seen Mom shift gears so
fast in my life. Her take-no-prisoners stance seemed to vanish faster than cold
beer on a hot day. A little too fast, I thought, but I let it pass as I watched
her instantly transmogrify into Scarlett O'Hara. (Gone with the Wind was her favorite movie.) You could almost
hear the Southern accent when she spoke.
    "The bonus. My goodness, didn't
I mention that?" She fluttered her paper napkin at my brother and me.
"Sit."
    We remained standing.
    She didn't seem to notice. "You
know, boys, one of Clay's sidelines is he's a repo man. Repossesses cars,
trucks, things like that. Well, he tells me he has a dozen old vehicles out in
his back shed that he can't get rid of. Nothing fancy, of course. Fords, Chevies , Toyotas. All just sitting there on blocks
gathering dust."
    "About the bonus, honey,"
interrupted Dad gently.
    "Oh, yes, the bonus. Well, Clay
says that if the man he hires for the summer does a good job, he'll throw in
one of the cars as a bonus. Even help him get it up and running."
    With the skill of a surgeon, she
carved out a wedge of her French toast, stabbed
it with her fork, and sunk her teeth into it quicker than Dracula himself.
    My father
stood. "Gotta get to work." He put on his John Deere cap. "Your
mom and I just thought it might be kinda nice if you two had wheels, now that
you'll be in high school. You know, for the drive-in... dances..."
    "Exactly,"
said Mom. "Double dates."
    He opened
the door. "Talk it over, guys. It's a good deal. And whoever stays can
work in the dairy this summer, so's the both of you
can have some spending money next fall. Besides, it'll give one of you a leg up
on running the place. After all, the dairy's gonna be yours one day."
    "There.
You see." Mom smiled sweetly. "Well, you boys better get moving.
You'll be late for school."
    "Mom,"
we groaned. "School's out."
    "Oh,
that's right." It was strange to see her so schitzy .
"Well, then, go swimming or something." Before we could move, though,
she raised a hand to stop us. "Just a sec. Um... I hope you two realize
one thing. All your father and I want is for you to be happy. Happy isn't
always easy." She waved us away. "Let me know your decision by
suppertime. I promised Clay I'd call before six."
     

     
    "Clark,
I don't want to go."
    "Me
either."
    "But
I don't want to stay here anymore."
    "Ditto."
    I nodded.
We were pedaling our bikes aimlessly down some dirt road. Our T-shirts had long
since been tucked into the hip pockets of our cargo shorts, and both our
hairless chests were shimmering with sweat under the midday sun. But for the
first

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