6

Reality check

 

   That night, insomnia visited Ronny. What just happened? Ronny thought. He lay awake trying to reconstruct the truly surreal events that happened that day. Could it all really be some strange coincidence? Is it really possible that I left my body? Did I hurt Kenny because I was there? Am I some sort of weird living Voodoo doll? Ronny’s confusion compounded as the questions came in. Am I dreaming all of this? There was so much conflict going on in Ronny’s mind. He wondered if the “unresolved confrontation” was within himself. OK. he thought. I have to think logically. It just might be true that all of this really could have been an extraordinary coincidence. It’s not impossible. It’s nothing at all… or…I am going nuts. He paused in his thought for a moment just to calm himself down. I choose the one without the nuts. He rolled over on his side to try to get comfortable. Yes. It had to be a coincidence. It couldn’t be anything else. There probably isn’t even a conflict at all. It’s just my imagination running away with me. Ronny slowly fell asleep.

 

   For the next couple days, Ronny tried to forget about what had happened. He kept himself occupied with his art projects while Kenny went to work and everything was back to normal. Ronny and Kenny wore out every joke they could think of about being “boo-boo buddies” and Ronny’s concerns faded away.

   After Ronny had worked on a couple of smaller projects, today he would start building the parts that would be the inside frame of a larger sculpture. Using an old peach crate for a base, he took wire and balloons and attached them into a crude shape of a sitting human form. He then took some flour and mixed it with some water in a very large bowl. After getting the mixture to a slightly thick but still runny consistency, he took the newspaper strips one at a time, passed them through the flour and water, and began wrapping them in layers around the structure. As he worked on it day by day, the shape of a man emerged.

   Ronny also noticed that Kenny’s little clay baby was looking more and more detailed every day. Its face looked menacing. It disturbed Ronny, but he appreciated the work which Kenny must have been doing in the middle of the night. Ronny never saw him with it. Ronny was impressed at its growing detail. It was starting to look real. Then, one morning, Ronny got up to go make coffee and the jar was empty. Kenny must have finished the sculpture and took it with him to work. He was probably showing everyone there.

 

   When Kenny got home that night, Ronny was just finishing the shape of the man sculpture.

   “Hey, Ronny.” Kenny kicked off his shoes and peeled out of his jumpsuit. “Man, I’m glad to be home.”

   “Rough one at work today?” Ronny asked.

   “No. Normal day. Just glad to be home.” Kenny headed for the restroom. “Hey, that sculpture came out good.”

   “Thanks.”

   “I’m taking a shower. If you have to get in there, go now.”

   “I’m good.” Then Ronny remembered the empty jar. “Hey, by the way, Kenny, that sculpture you did is amazing. It looks like some kind of baby.”

   “What sculpture?”

   “The one in the jar on the window sill.”

   “Oh that?” Kenny laughed. “Yeah right, thanks. Ha ha.”

   Ronny looked at Kenny. Kenny was acting like Ronny was joking with him.

   Then Kenny spoke again, still smiling. ”You say it looks like a baby?”

   “Yeah man. Isn’t it supposed to be a baby?”

   Kenny looked confused for a second and he blinked. “Are you pulling my leg? It isn’t supposed to be anything, man.”

   Ronny was confused.”I thought you finally finished it and took it to work.”

   “It’s gone?” Kenny asked. He looked around for a moment. Then he said apologetically, “I don’t have the clay…I wasn’t using it anyway.”

   Ronny looked confused.

   Kenny continued, “I mean, I was going to use it…and I figured that small chunks of clay would be easier to work with so I put them in a jar. Then you stuck it in the window and I thought that the sun would keep the clay warm too and I thought that’s a good idea and…”

   Ronny interrupted. “Wait a minute… didn’t you make something?”

   “I didn’t make much of anything. I played with the clay for a little while, but when I was done, I just threw the chunks of clay back in the jar. I didn’t mess with it after that.” Ronny looked back at the empty jar in the window, and then, back at Kenny.

   Ronny saw more than chunks of clay in that jar. He stood motionless for a second, examining the innocent look on Kenny’s face. Ronny’s hand went up to his mouth and his eyes grew large as he looked around the room. “Where is it?” he said under his breath.

   “Relax Ronny. It has to be around here somewhere. It’s not that important. I mean, don’t worry about it on my account.”

   Ronny realized he had better settle down. He was getting excited over something Kenny was not finding important. Ronny was shaking inside. He began to feel queasy. He thought to himself, Kenny said he never touched the clay after that night…and I never saw him with it. How could it have been changing? And now, it’s gone. Maybe Kenny is just messing with me. Ronny did not want to blame Kenny and start something that may get out of control. After all, something strange was happening and Kenny seemed unaware. The thought passed through Ronny’s mind, If I tell Kenny what’s been happening, he’ll think I’m going nuts.

    Ronny decided that for the moment, he better blow this situation off as unimportant. He said, “Maybe it will show up.”

   “Sure it will,” Kenny reassured him. “You’ll see.”

   Kenny headed for the restroom to take a shower. While he was occupied, Ronny frantically looked around the apartment for the little creepy clay baby. He stopped his search when he heard the shower turn off.

   For the rest of the evening, Ronny tried to keep himself composed, but all the while, he still looked around here and there for the clay thing. Before the night was through, he was sure it was gone. It would not be so important if it was only clay, but Ronny saw the clay change. Would Kenny really lie about all of this? Considering all the strange things that seemed to be happening, maybe Kenny was really unaware.

   Ronny finally went to bed and that night, he had a most disturbing dream.

 

7

Too much to dream

 

   The room looked distorted through the curved glass. The air was dead and sounds seemed hollow and far away. Ronny thought to himself, There is Kenny coming this way. He is looking straight at me. Where exactly am I? As Kenny approached, he rapidly grew in size. Ronny looked up at Kenny’s enormous head as one of his huge arms came at him with a hand as wide as the room. With a sudden movement, Ronny felt himself lifted upwards. The giant hand held him in front of Kenny’s face.

   “Hello Ronny,” Kenny said. “How are you doing today?” Kenny turned the jar back and forth. He tapped on the glass as he looked in the side of the jar. Then he placed it carefully back on the window sill. “You just stay right there, Ronny.”

  Ronny could see Kenny turn around and walk away as he shrank to normal size again in the mist of the surrounding room. “Kenny?” Ronny said. “Kenny, come back here,” he yelled. “Kenny, don’t leave me here! Get me out of this jar!... GET ME OUT OF THIS JAR!!”

   Ronny awoke with a scream. He sat up in his bed. His heart pounded like a hammer and he was drenched with sweat. For a moment he remained still, trying to regain his awareness. He suddenly and franticly groped his body and then, his head to make sure he was solid. He sat there motionless, wide-eyed, his hands on the sides of his face. “What was that all about?” The darkness in the room was overwhelming. Ronny felt an emptiness closing in around him. He reached over and turned on the table lamp. His mind, still waking up, badgered him with random images. Ronny sat up and began to think about the dream. I’m freaking out because of that clay thing. He wondered about Kenny. Could Kenny be messing with me? Is he trying to drive me crazy? He went over the facts again. I looked all over the place last night. That clay thing is gone. Kenny has to have it and I know I saw that clay changing.

   There was still something Ronny could not dismiss. There were too many strange things going on to be ignored anymore. He couldn’t get it out of his mind that somehow, he had really visited the garage last week. I saw Kenny cut his finger… What else did I see? Ronny concentrated on memories of his last hallucinogenic experience which remained vivid. Ronny remembered the area in the garage by the doorway to the front desk. Toolbox, drinking fountain, clock and calendar. Maybe I should draw a picture of it and leave it where Kenny could see it. Then Ronny thought, No, if I do that, Kenny will freak out, and ask me stuff I don’t even know how to explain. Ronny lay back down and curled up to get comfortable, There has to be a way I can find out what I need to know, Ronny thought. He laid motionless for a while, just trying to relax. Finally, he looked up at the clock. It was almost seven in the morning. He knew he would not sleep anymore and it was almost time for Kenny to get up. I should talk to Kenny just before he leaves. Ronny thought this would be the best time. If Kenny gave the answers he feared, Ronny would only have to remain calm for a moment before he proceeded to lose his mind. Ronny tried to think of some way to get information out of Kenny.

    Ronny got out of bed and went to the kitchen. As he made some coffee, he could not help looking toward the dining area and at the window sill, hoping the jar would not be empty. Kenny’s alarm clock went off. Ronny thought about what questions he could ask Kenny, or maybe, there was another way to find out what he wanted. Maybe he could say something that would reveal what he wanted to know without seeming like he was really asking about the garage.

   Ronny heard the toilet flush. Kenny came down the hall from the restroom. “Hey, what’s up Ronny? You’re up kind of early.”

   “Yeah,” said Ronny. “I just wanted to get up early for a change.”

   “Yeah, I know what you mean. It’s good to change things up once in a while. Did you eat breakfast yet?”

   “No,” replied Ronny. “I just got some coffee made. You want some?”

   “You bet.” Kenny sat at the dining room table as he put his socks on.

   “Want some cereal too?” asked Ronny.

   “Sure,” Kenny said

   Ronny brought two cups of coffee to the table, and then, pulled a couple bowls from the cupboard. He got some spoons and grabbed the milk and cereal and sat down with Kenny. He still did not know how to open the conversation. Instead he mostly ate until Kenny finally said, “You’re awful quiet.”

   Ronny stammered, “Oh…uh…well…what’s up?”

   “Going to work.”

   “And you’re a mechanic, right?”

   “You got it in one, Ronny.” Kenny looked at Ronny with a sarcastic grin.

   “Well, I mean…what’s it like…workin’ on cars?” Ronny desperately tried to get on topic.

   “It’s a job, man. It’s a greasy, hard job…There are some cool things about it. It’s kind of neat when something gets fixed and you feel good about it, but I would do something else if I had the chance. I wish I could do what you do.” Kenny got up and put his bowl in the sink. “Why do you ask? Do you want to be a mechanic?”

   “No.” Ronny was frustrated. He hadn’t gathered any information. Kenny was getting into his jumpsuit. There was not much time left. Think Ronny, THINK! Then, the words came to mind.

   Kenny got his shoes on and grabbed his lunch. He stepped toward the door. “Later Ronny,” he said.

   This was it. Ronny spoke up. “Oh, hey, wait, Kenny. I just remembered that I wanted to tell you that I saw a cool clock that I bet you guys would like at the garage.” Ronny stopped for a moment, almost afraid to continue.

   “Yes?...Well, what kind of clock?” inquired Kenny.

   Ronny forced himself to finish. “It’s a clock with wrenches for hands.”

   “Oh,” Kenny said. “Yes, in fact, it is a cool clock. We have one near the drinking fountain.”

   Ronny gulped. He was almost sure at this point that he had left his body that day, but maybe it was another coincidence. As far-fetched as it seemed, he wanted to be sure. Ronny thought for a moment. “Do you guys have a calendar?”

   Kenny smiled. “Oh, well, sure, and you would really like it. Cars and girls. ‘Bulldog’ brought it in. There’s a real honey in the picture this month. It’s a 1973 apple red Mustang, and the girl is pretty cute too. Ha ha. Well, I have to split, Ronny. I’ll see you later.”

   “OK, man, have a good day.”

   Ronny stood motionless as the door shut. Kenny’s steps got quieter as he descended the staircase. Ronny waited for the door at the bottom of the steps to close, then, he walked to the couch and fell back into it. It really happened. I was really there. Ronny’s mind was befuddled in a way he could not even understand. I was there, and I was there when Kenny got hurt. Ronny felt, that, somehow, he was to blame for that. But… why did we both get hurt at the same time? The guilt feeling lifted. Both our injuries would have to be related. Ronny’s stomach turned. He thought hard. So what does it mean? When either one of us gets hurt, does the other one get hurt too? Are we like the Corsican brothers?

   Ronny remembered something Kenny had said: “We like the same TV shows, we have the same record albums, we like the same food, green is both our favorite color. We even have the same taste in women, and now we cut the same finger.” Then Ronny had a thought that went beyond anything he had previously considered, something so devastating, it could change everything. The thought terrified him. Could it be that Kenny and I are the same person? In utter horror, he sat up and grabbed his head. One of us isn’t real… Who is the real person? Then Ronny’s face changed as he realized the depth of the implications. One of us has to take over…and it can’t be Kenny.

 

8

Tag, I’m It

      

   Throughout the day, Ronny’s mind was consumed with the circumstances that seemed to point to a devastating conclusion. He was so overwhelmed by his thoughts that he couldn’t accomplish anything. He didn’t work on his art, he didn’t work on the apartment, he didn’t listen to music. His only concern was to somehow find out if his fears were real. Ronny knew he had to make sure that it was true. Somehow, he had to see without Kenny knowing. Ronny thought to himself If he was the real one of us, he may be the one to take over. I can’t let that happen. My life is so much more interesting than to end up working at a gas station. Ronny concentrated on a solution. I have to find a way to mark myself and see if it shows up on Kenny. It has to be a spot I can see on Kenny but he can’t see on me. Ronny looked at the clock. It was almost five-thirty. Ronny was frantic. Where can I mark myself?...Wait…How can I mark myself? He looked toward the kitchen. He ran to the silverware drawer and pulled out a fork. I’ll scratch myself…but where? I have to be able to see it clearly, but I don’t want him to see it. He thought. Then, with a sudden deep breath, he knew. Kenny’s hair is short! Ronny took the fork and reached behind his neck and dragged the tines of the fork across his skin. The spot was stinging. He quickly threw the fork in the sink and reached up to feel the spot. It was wet. He looked at his hand. A little bit of blood was on his finger tips. Perfect. he thought. I have to let my pony tail out.

   Ronny ran to the bathroom. He grabbed a small mirror and turned his back to the mirror above the sink. He looked in the small mirror and could just make out three parallel scratches on the right side of the back of his neck. The top scratch was longest and the bottom was shortest. He put the mirror down and broke the rubber band that was holding his hair together. Ronny checked again with the mirrors to see that his scratch was covered. Good. It was not visible. This was going to work. Ronny would know if he and Kenny were one.

   The door at the bottom of the stairs opened. Kenny is home, thought Ronny. He headed for the living room. He frantically looked for something to make himself look busy. Kenny was almost at the top of the steps.

Ronny stood in the middle of the living room as Kenny walked through the door. He met eyes with Ronny who was just standing there looking surprised.

   “What?” exclaimed Kenny “Am I on fire?”

   “Huh?...No...no, I was just thinking…of stuff.”

   “I figured there were bugs crawling all over me or something the way you were looking at me. You’re freaking me out Ronny.”

   Ronny pulled himself together. “Oh… sorry, man.” Ronny continued. “How was work today?”

   “Same old stuff…Are you feeling all right? Is there something you want to talk about?”

   Ronny did not want Kenny asking questions. He had to play it cool. “No, man. Everything is all right…why don’t you sit and I’ll make us some grub.”

   “Well, I am hungry,” said Kenny. “Why don’t you make us some grub while I take a shower?”

   “Oh…sure. Yeah, go clean up.” Ronny was still too excited to see the back of Kenny’s neck to compose himself. At least with Kenny in the shower, Ronny could think for a minute. Ronny yelled toward the bathroom. “You want some hot dogs and chips?”

   “Simple is good,” replied Kenny from behind the door.

   Ronny quickly made a plan while he got the hotdogs boiling on the stove. I’ll bring the rest of the food to the table, but I’ll forget the ketchup in the kitchen. That way, I can come back for it and be able to see Kenny’s neck on the way back to the table. Ronny got the plates, napkins, some cans of pop, to the table. He also took the buns and the jar of mustard, but left the ketchup bottle on the kitchen counter. The hot dogs were still boiling when Kenny came out of the bathroom. Ronny drained the hot dogs and carried the pot to the table and sat down. Kenny was behind him.

   “You forgot this.” Kenny set the bottle of ketchup in the middle of the table and sat down.

   “Darn!” Ronny said under his breath.

   “What?” asked Kenny.

   “Darn me, forgetting the ketchup.”

   “Not that big of a deal, Ronny.”

   The guys got their plates together and began to eat. Then Ronny suddenly spoke. “Pickles.”

   “That sounds good,” said Kenny. “I’ll have one.”

   “Good.”

    “What?”

    “Good…pickles.” said Ronny as he jumped and went toward the kitchen. He got the pickles from the refrigerator, but when he headed back for the table, Kenny was looking straight at him and wondering why Ronny was acting so strange.

   “Why are you acting so strange?” inquired Kenny.

   Ronny stopped as if to wait for Kenny to turn back around. “Um…am I really acting strange?”

   “Can I have a pickle?”

   Ronny hesitated for a moment. “Yes…here are the pickles. Have a pickle.” He set the jar down and sat in his chair.

   A moment passed, and then with a kind voice, Kenny said, “Ronny, I think you are doing too many drugs.”

   “I haven’t even done any lately.” Ronny thought for a moment that maybe he had better just be agreeable at this point. “But, maybe you’re right…I’ll quit for a while.”

   “Good.” said Kenny. He stared at Ronny while he took a bite of a pickle and chewed it. “Good pickles.”

   Ronny forced a smile.

   When Kenny finished eating, he got up and headed for the kitchen. Ronny tried desperately to get a glimpse at the back of Kenny’s neck, but it all happened too fast. Ronny had not finished eating and it would seem suspicious for him to just get up and follow Kenny to the kitchen. After Kenny put his plate in the sink, he went to his favorite chair in the corner of the room to watch some T.V. He would be there all night and Ronny would not be able to get behind Kenny to see the back of his neck.