Chapter 32
It wasn’t exactly a five-star resort, but Sam B hadn’t come prepared with much cash on hand, given that he’d left without preparation, and was expecting to join a commune. The motel, though, was adequate for a night that promised him precious little sleep anyway.
Sam reclined in the uncomfortable bed, hands cushioning his head, as he watched his counterpart carefully, offering him water every so often.
Sam A was sitting on the floor; for some reason, he had rejected attempts to put him in a bed, preferring to use the bed as his back rest as he stared with half-open eyes at a blank wall.
Well, at least he didn’t seem to be causing trouble. A minor victory.
Sam B turned to Al, who was frowning down at the inebriated Sam. “I can’t believe he got into that much trouble,” he mused, shaking his head. “How did it happen, anyway?”
“I don’t know,” Al replied, a guilty look on his face. “I should’ve been checking in with him more often. I was sure everything was going great here.”
“He had you fooled, huh?”
“I think he was fooling himself.”
Sam snorted. “You know, he did seem pretty naive. Oblivious. I guess he didn’t notice things were going south ’til it was too late.”
Al lit up a cigar, nodding. “I told you, he’s not as perfect as you thought. He needs you.”
Sam’s gaze moved to the yellow-stained ceiling. “A part of himself that doesn’t always think the best of people, huh?” His lips curled into a wry smile. “The second I laid eyes on Danny, I could tell he was a jerkoff.”
“Yeah,” agreed Al, “what the hell kinda guy wears shades indoors?”
“Someone who wants to hide their lying eyes.” Sam flicked a glance at his twin. “Yeah, I guess I do have some value after all.”
“Not to mention the way you kicked those guys’ butts,” Al added, poking his cigar towards Sam A. “I don’t think he woulda been in a position to be drugged if he had that kind of fight in him. Those hippies went down like sacks of potatoes.”
Sam B laughed. “Yeah, they really were easy to take down. Probably never been in a fight in their lives. Cakewalk.”
Al met his eye. “And that’s why the Big Cheese picked you to be Bobby. He needed your chutzpah.”
Sam sat up in the bed, frowning. “If ‘the Big Cheese’ wanted me to go to Vietnam, then why did he make me so anxious about it, huh? I honestly can’t express to you how terrified I’ve been, Al. It’s like I’m treading water, and drowning is inevitable unless I get out of the ocean. So that’s exactly what I did.”
Al tapped at his handlink, face grim. “Well, Ziggy says that if you don’t report for duty tomorrow, you’re gonna get Bobby brought up on charges for desertion and draft-dodging, while Brenda loses the baby, divorces Bobby, and drinks herself to death in eight years. Do you want that on your conscience, Sam?”
Sam let himself drop back down on the bed, and stuffed a pillow over his face. “Al… I can’t deal with it, okay? I tried, and I failed, and I can’t face it any more. Have Ziggy run the numbers on Bobby hiding out at the commune.”
“Sam, Bobby wants to go to war. He’s not going to stay there, even if you force the issue. Kid prides himself on not being a coward.”
“Well, I am, okay? If that’s not what God or Time or Fate wants, then why did he split us up and leave me with all the fear and pessimism?” He threw the pillow down and got to his feet. “I’m going to the bathroom. Don’t follow me this time.”
Turning away from the distraught Observer, he stormed into the grungy bathroom, closing the door and staring at Bobby in the filthy mirror.
“I’m sorry, okay?” he said to the reflection. “I did as much as I could. A ruined life is still better than no life at all, right?”
But he knew deep down that he was trying to convince himself more than Bobby, who couldn’t hear him.
* * *
Sam A wasn’t sure whether he’d been asleep or just spaced out, but when the world around him came into focus, it was dark, and his head was against a hard, musty-smelling floor. His eyes caught the motion of what may have been a cockroach in the dim light. Or it may have been a hallucination; he’d seen a few of those, he realised now.
He pulled himself into a sitting position, rubbing his tired eyes as he tried to piece together the last god-knows-how-many hours.
“Hey there, Sam. You back with us?” Al’s voice asked. Sam turned his head towards the voice, and saw his friend’s silhouette by the window, the smouldering end of his cigar lighting up orange as he inhaled.
“Mm. Maybe. What time is it?” he asked, unsteadily climbing to his feet. It occurred to him that he had no idea where he was, except that it seemed to be some kind of motel room. “And where are we?”
“It’s one in the morning, and you’re in Wellton,” Al replied. “A bit east of the commune.”
“Oh…” Sam sat on the bed he’d been lying next to, noting that Sam B was sleeping in an adjacent bed.
“He was gonna stay up all night to watch you, you know,” Al said. “I told him to get some shut-eye and I’d wake him if you took a turn.”
Sam A rubbed his chin, looking with wide eyes at his double. “He… saved me… didn’t he?”
“Oh, he saved you alright,” confirmed Al. “Gave Danny a good shiner to boot. You’d have been toast if he hadn’t shown up.”
“Huh.” Despite the situation, Sam A felt rather… content. Intellectually, he knew it was probably the afterglow of the PCP, but he relaxed on the bed, smiling as he thought about how even with his mistake, things had still gone his way. It felt as though the universe really had his back. “What brought him there? Was it the connection we have?”
“Connection?”
“Yeah. Connection. We kind of… know some things the other knows.”
“Oh, is that how Sam B knew Danny’s name?”
Sam A furrowed his brow as he struggled to recall what had happened. “Uh, if he knew it, then yeah I guess. I don’t remember.”
Sam rubbed his hands together; one thing he could remember was that they had felt largely numb throughout his experience. That’s when he spotted the bandage around his arm. He inspected it with a frown.
“That’s where he burned you with the cigarette,” Al explained. “The damn nozzle. Deserved the punch, and the kick in the guts that girl gave him after you left, too.”
“What girl?”
“I dunno, she was short. Auburn hair about yay length in pigtails.” He held a hand at his collar bone to demonstrate.
Sam grinned. “Alicia.”
She’d been smitten with Danny, if he recalled correctly. Well, that spell appeared well and truly broken now. He wondered about the rest of the commune. Did they understand what had happened? Would they stand by Danny? And if not, what would they do with him?
“We need to go back to the ranch,” he said quietly.
“You do, yes,” Al said. “Tie up some loose ends with Danny and his goons. Your other half, however, needs to get back to San Diego before he misses his flight.”
“He doesn’t want to go back, does he?”
Al shook his head. “Guy’s petrified. He came to the commune to join it, not because he sensed you were in trouble.” He took a drag on his cigar and sighed, letting the smoke billow from his lips. “He’s been trying, he really has. But it’s all too much for him. I don’t know what to do.”
Sam A smiled sadly as he watched Sam B sleeping, his brow furrowed and dotted with beads of sweat. He looked as though he was having a nightmare.
Well, maybe, he thought, he could repay the favour.