I showered and shaved, pulled on a sport shirt and slacks and headed for the car. I wanted to go to the bank and deposit the check and I had to pick up a newspaper—

Actually, I didn’t need the newspaper at all, I could remember which horses had won without it, but there was a headline on the front page of the Herald Examiner: FIVE-HORSE PARLAY WINS $57,600!

Huh—? I hadn’t seen that before. But then, Don hadn’t shown me the front page.

The story was a skimpy one and they’d misspelled my name; mostly it was about how much I had bet on each horse and how it had snowballed. Then there were some quotes from various track officials saying how pleased they were to have such a big winner (I’ll bet!), because it helped publicize the sport (and probably attracted a lot of hopeful losers too.) Finally there was even a quote from me about what I was planning to do with the money: “I don’t know yet, I’m still too excited. Probably I’ll take a vacation. I’ve always wanted to see the world. I’d like to invest some of it too, but I have to wait and see what’s left after taxes.” Faked, of course. I hadn’t spoken to any reporters at all; but apparently some editor had felt the story wouldn’t be complete without a few words from the happy winner.

I was both pleased and annoyed. Pleased at being a “celebrity.” Annoyed that they were putting words into my mouth. Maybe today we’d do it differently.

Could we?

Suppose we didn’t stop at $57,600 — suppose we went after an eight-horse parlay. That would be worth almost $750,000! Hmm. I thought about it all during breakfast at the local coffee shop.

Afterward I went to the bank and withdrew two hundred and fifty dollars from my savings account so we’d have some money for the track today. I couldn’t deposit the big check yet, because I needed it to show to Danny, my younger self, this afternoon.

I got home with time to spare. I decided to change into some cooler clothes — then I remembered the sweater and slacks. What would happen if I wore something else instead?

I went burrowing in the closet, found some lightweight trousers, a shirt and a windbreaker. They would do just fine. Now, what else was there I had to take care of?

Nothing that I could see. I scooped up the check and put it in my pocket; I didn’t want to leave it lying around. Dan would be arriving at—

There was a soft pop! in the air.

I turned to see a startled-looking me.

“Hi,” I said. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

His eyes were wide; he looked positively scared.

“Relax, Dan—” I said. He jumped when I spoke.

For a moment, all he could do was stare. His face was a study in amazement. “You’re me—”

I suddenly realized how silly this whole tableau was. I thrust the newspaper at him. “Here. I believe we were going to the races… ?

“We?”

That’s right — he didn’t know!! “Well, it’s no fun going alone, is it?

“Uh—”

“It’s all right,” I said. “I’m you — I’m your future self. Tomorrow you’ll be me. That is, we’re the same person. We’ve just doubled back our timeline.”

He blinked. “Oh.”

He looked so confused, I wanted to touch him to reassure him, but I remembered how scared I had been. He’d probably jump right out of his skin. I smiled at him. “Okay, let’s do it this way. I’m your twin brother.” There was so much I wanted to explain. I wanted to tell him everything that Don had told me last night, but it wasn’t the right time yet. He was still looking at me too hesitantly. Instead I reached out and took his hand, shook it firmly. “Hi,” I said. “I’m Don. I’m your brother.” After a bit he returned my grip. I knew how scared he was — but I also knew how curious he was about to become.

We bounced back in time in his “today.” (I snuck a peek in the closet when he wasn’t looking. There was only one sweater and slacks — of course, I hadn’t brought them back with me. But there were duplicates of the trousers, shirt and windbreaker I was wearing now. So you could change the timestream… !)

On the way out to the car, old lady Peterson surprised us — surprised Danny, I should say; I’d been expecting her. “This is my brother,” I said quickly. “Don,” I touched his arm. “This is Mrs. Peterson.” To her: “Don will be staying with me for a while, so if you think you’re seeing double, don’t be surprised.”

She smiled at us. “I didn’t know you were twins—”

“We’ve been — living separately,” I answered, remembering quickly how my Don had explained it. “So we could each have a chance to be our own person. Don’s been living up in San Francisco for the past two years.”

“Oh,” she said. She beamed politely at Dan. “Well, I hope you’ll like it in Los Angeles, Don. There’s so much to do.”

He went kind of frog-faced at that. He managed to stammer out, “Uh — yes. It’s very exciting.”

I couldn’t help myself. I started giggling; when we got to the car I couldn’t hold it in any longer. “I wish you could have seen your face—” I said. Then I realized. “Well, you will — tomorrow.” He was half glaring at me.

“’Uh — yes. It’s very exciting,’” I mocked. “You looked as if you’d swallowed a frog.”

He stopped in the act of unlocking the passengerside car door. “Why didn’t you let me explain?” he asked. “She’s my neighbor.”

“She’s my neighbor too,” I pointed out. “Besides, what would you have said? At least I’ve been through this once before.” I opened my door and got into the car. I could see this twin business was going to take some getting used to. Already I was noticing the differences between the Dan of today and the Don of yesterday. Sure, it was only me — but I was beginning to realize that I would never be the same person twice in a row. And I would never be viewing myself through the same pair of eyes either. Dan seemed so — uncertain; it was as if he was a little cowed by me. It showed in little things — his easy acquiescence of the fact that I would drive, for example. All I had done was point him at the passenger side of the car while I headed toward the driver’s side myself, but he had accepted that. Not without some resentment, of course; I could see him eyeing me as I unlatched the top, preparatory to putting it down.

“Put on a tape,” I said, pointing at the box of cassettes. I started to name one, then stopped. “Want me to tell you which one you’re going to choose?” I realized that was a mistake as soon as I’d said it.

“Uh — no, thanks,” he muttered. He was frowning.

I could have kicked myself. I’d let myself get carried away with this wild sense of power. I hadn’t been considerate of Dan at all. Belatedly, I remembered how I had felt yesterday. Resentful, sullen, and most of all, cautious. Poor Dan — here he was, flush with excitement, filled with a feeling of omnipotence at the wondrous things he could do with his timebelt — and I had stolen it all from him. By my mere presence, my know-it-all attitude and cocksure arrogance, I was relegating him to second fiddle. Of course he wouldn’t like it.

As he put on the tape of Petrouchka, I resolved to try and be more considerate. I should have realized how he would feel — no, that was wrong, I did know how he felt; I simply hadn’t paid it any mind.

Thinking back, I remembered that as Dan, my arrogance had bothered me only at first — later, as I had gotten used to the idea of “Don,” I had begun to see the wisdom of following his lead. Or had that been my reaction to Don’s suddenly realized consideration of me?

It didn’t matter. There was bound to be some confusion at first, on both sides. What counted would be what happened later on, over dinner. I remembered how good I had felt last night in Don’s presence and I looked forward to it again tonight. I would make it up to Dan. (The reservations — I hadn’t made them yet! No, wait a minute; it was all right. I could make the reservations any time. All I had to do was flash back a day or so; I could do it later. Boy, I could get used to this — )