Me, Myself, I

What had Monday told him? "Be careful of that thing. It's your way home," he recited.

Sunday Todd jumped and began to look angry. He wore the same clothes Todd had worn Sunday night, so nothing in that respect had changed. Todd forced himself to remain calm and relaxed, knowing this had kept himself from panicking, while intimidating him slightly. It felt good to be on the empowered side of the confrontation this time.

"How'd you get in here? How'd you get in here," Sunday demanded.

No different there, either, Todd thought, remembering his confusion. He said: "I can't remember everything I said last night--sorry, what he said last night--so I'm just gonna wing it. That thing in your hand?" He pointed, and Sunday looked down. "That's a time machine. It kicked you 24 hours into the future to meet your future self, me. If you don't believe me, take out your driver's license and hold it up alongside my face." He raised his eyebrows and smiled in parody of a driver's license photo shot. Sunday's Todd looked anything but amused.

"Last night, you walked across and pushed me up against the table right there and threatened to punch me out. Please don't do that. I'm not really any more experienced in this than you are." Except in one respect, he thought wryly. "I got kicked forward last night, just like you did, and then I went back, just like you'll do later. Tomorrow night, you'll stand right here where I am now, trying to explain this to your own angry self. And I have no clue what happens with me after you leave, so don't bother to ask."

Sunday Todd looked shaken to the core. The thing was, he believed every word of it, whether he wanted to or not. Todd could see it in his face. In a gentler voice, he said, "It helps if you call me Monday, and yourself Sunday. It's a lot to take in, I know ."

Sunday made a denying gesture with his head. Todd remembered that, all too well.

"Just give yourself a moment to catch up. You will, and it'll get easier from there. Want a beer?" he asked. "I could use one myself."

Jesus, I'm doing everything different tonight, he thought. When does almost, become too much? And right on top of this thought came the question: How long has this been going on? How many iterations? Was there a first time, or was Sunday Todd cursed to enter this loop, ad infinitum?

"I should mention that you can, and will, do things differently tomorrow night than me. Last night's Todd wore a T-shirt and cargo pants and sandals to the ball, and as you can see, I'm ready for rugby." He watched himself shudder again. Sunday was keeping his temper in check, at least; no overtly hostile threats. "I'd feel better if you put down your iPhone someplace safe and have a beer with me, Todd."

Sunday did as instructed; delicately placing the iPhone on the end table that Todd had dropped his onto last night. He rubbed his face with both hands; Todd was reminded of the famous painting, The Scream, and remembered wanting to scream himself. "How 'bout that beer?" he offered.

Sunday nodded and said hoarsely, "I think I can use one, thanks." He looked at Todd, almost beseechingly. "I'm not crazy? You're really me?"

Grinning with inspiration, Todd removed his wallet and thumbed out his driver's license. Holding it at arms length between his fingertips, he watched a still unsettled Sunday approach and eyeball it closely, cutting his gaze between the card and Todd's face. Then Sunday dug out his own wallet and they compared ID's. They were identical, down to the scratches and smudge marks on the face. Sunday rubbed his ID against his shirtfront and then returned it to his wallet.

"I guess I'm convinced. How much beer do you have?"

* * *

Two and a half hours later (10:50 PM), Todd opened the last beer and clinked rims with Sunday. "To a noteworthy night," he toasted.

"Amen, brother," Sunday sighed. He sipped the beer judiciously, as did Todd. Sunday had suggested a run to the beer store earlier, but Todd objected on the grounds that, should an accident occur, they'd be hard pressed to explain two Todd Corliss's in the car, much less try to explain things to the neighbors. Someone was always out on the stoop at night, and neither wanted to run our for beer alone. So they had rationed it closely.

"Let me see your right knee."

Unquestioningly, Sunday raised it for inspection. Todd detected no rug burn in progress, not even the hint of a red spot--another indication how differently the night had gone.

"I noticed yours was burned," Sunday observed. He hesitantly reached over and fingered the rawness on Todd's knee, who obligingly met him halfway. "It makes you wonder if there's an actual future at all, doesn't it?"

"Like, when you leave here later, me and everything around me just goes puff?" He made an exploding gesture with his hands. "I certainly hope that's not true. I like hanging around, Todd."

Sunday rubbed his own knee, contemplatively. "I think, every time we do this, we create an alternate future. You'll go on with yours, and I'll begin a new one back home. I think that's happened with every iteration of us."

Todd related his own thoughts on the issue, specifically how long this had been going on.

Sunday shook his head. "Not that long, I don't think."

"Why?" Todd asked curiously.

"Because of the accident four years ago. It only makes sense if you look at it from the perspective of righting a wrong, undoing something terrible. We were swinging out to pass that whatever it was on the double yellow line when suddenly this maniac darts out and runs directly in front of us. We slam on the brakes and go spinning madly around in circles. No one hurt, a fucking miracle. And what didn't happen?"

Todd knew the answer to that. "We didn't pass the blue car and possibly didn't cause an accident. We all got the shit scared out of us, and I drove responsibly the rest of the way home."

"And why there? At that particular place and time. Why not someplace else?"

That answer was also on the tip of the tongue: "Because he, the time-traveler, knew exactly where we'd be, exactly at that moment because something memorable happened there, something written down in the history books. You think we killed that green-eyed woman and her husband, don't you?"

Sunday shook his head. Todd didn't think so either. "I remember thinking at the time how familiar the guy looked. I was stoned, and with the rain and the shock and all, I couldn't put it together. Let's face it, we couldn't have put it together at the time. He'd simply been a nutcase who ran across the road in the rain. And as for his disappearing like that...?" Sunday gazed at him, querying.

Todd shook his head. "Haven't seen anyone disappear, sorry. Your arrival was nothing like his departure." He explained about the shimmering effect and the un-disintegration. Sunday looked thoughtful.

"The cord attached to the bottom of the phone and disappearing into his coat. Remember that? My guess is that was an earlier model of the iPhone. He's improved on it, and now he's given it to us for some reason...well, me, actually. You still have yours?"

Todd nodded and told him about the missing power adapter. "I gotta come up with an idea for that," he mused. "But the point is, if we'd killed the woman and/or her husband, chances are we'd have done time and paid our debt to society and moved on." He tapped Sunday's knee with his fist. "We both know we'd never get remorseful enough, despite killing him or her or both of them, to spend the rest of our lives building a time machine for someone we didn't know."

Sunday completed the thought. "For someone we loved, though? Someone we'd terribly injured either physically or emotionally, and were determined to un-injure? Even at the cost of never being with them again? Maybe we killed her husband in a car wreck, fell in love with her at some later date and-Jesus, is it possible we ran?"

Todd shook his head vehemently. "I'd never do that! I may be worthless little shit, but I'm not scum, man."

"Maybe we didn't know. We were pretty fucked up, Todd. If we passed them and just cut them off, it's possible we'd have just kept heading right up the road, never looking back. I wasn't paying a hell of a lot of attention, you know."

"I know we weren't," Todd said reflectively. They both thought about it awhile. And they both reached the same conclusion. Todd voiced it for them.

"We-our later self, anyway-accomplished his task, what he went back to do, circumventing the accident. And from that point on, he was stuck in a new existence. There was no old future to go back to. It's not like what we're doing here-what are we doing here, anyway? This is starting to pack my head with steel wool again," he complained. He shook it and sighed angrily. "Anyway, he goes to Dale, drops the card-bomb on him, and a year later, mails us a little gizmo. What's he trying to do? To accomplish?" Todd laughed. "I don't think sucking our own cocks was what he had in mind."

"He should have left a fucking note," Sunday agreed irritably. "And, he should have included the charger."

Todd looked at him, startled. "What?" And then he hopped up and made for the bedroom door, Sunday right behind him. They walked naked down the hallway into the dining room-both cast a sharp look at the partly drawn patio curtains-and into the small foyer where Todd retrieved the mis-delivered package. It took only a second to open.

"Viola!" he exclaimed. "The charger!" He explained quickly about the charger had ended up in Regina's mailbox, and then hooked one end into the wall socket and the other into Sunday's iPhone.

"Go close the patio curtains, will you?"

Sunday ambled over to the curtains and drew them closed. Neither cared much about being seen naked, but cared very much what neighbors seeing two Todd's might think. Todd grinned as the iPhone beeped and displayed a splash screen with a large red and gold battery.

"By the way," he said. "For what it's worth, don't go back to the past."

* * *

With some trepidation, Todd watched his guest blur, dissolve and mist away into non-existence. He looked at his hands, down at his feet, and then around the empty living room. He was relived, of course, but also unexpectedly lonely. His younger self had been excellent company. And so answered the question about disappearing universes.

He was tired. Two nights of passionate, if sometimes difficult and embarrassing sex. Whatever his future self's purpose was in providing a time machine, it had certainly turned out interesting. He yawned, scratching his scrotum. He wanted another beer. But it was 12:20 PM, and the nearest open cooler was in the next county. Then he remembered the two mini bottles of Chardonnay stuck away against hard times in the cabinet over the stove, deftly hidden behind bottles of spices, and hurried into the kitchen. 187 ML bottles. Half of one enough to make him very happy going to sleep.

He half filled a glass over ice and added a like amount of 7UP. He enjoyed the touch of the counter against his penis. It saw action tonight, sure enough, though not as much as Monday's had the night before. He'd kept it more balanced, relaxing Sunday and getting him more into the adventure of it. He'd especially enjoyed their multiple sessions performing 69. Thinking about it brought a grin to his face, and a surge of blood to his penis. It became an erection which he pressed deliberately against the counters flat edge. Why exactly had he sent Sunday home, he wondered? Dejected, he carried the glass of wine into the bedroom and went to bed.

* * *

In the morning, Todd wondered at his stupidity. He'd spent the night alone, tossing and turning, when he could as easily have spent it with his future self. You stupid fucker, he thought to himself. Then he remembered that his iPhone was completely discharged-they'd left Sunday's on the charger until just before he left-and hadn't the power to make another jump. More stupidly, he'd forgotten to plug his in.

Wait a minute...

He retrieved his phone and asked Siri about the charge. Hovering right at 9% he was told. Having charged Sunday's iPhone the night before almost to full capacity, shouldn't that have affected his own phone? Evidently not, he thought. So much for the rules of cause and effect. He plugged it in now, he went to jump in the shower.

Todd blew easily through his workload and left the office at an acceptable 6:20 PM. On the way home he picked up two six-packs of Heineken and a big bag of chips. He also purchased a new bottle of KY Personal Lubricant at the Rite-Aid; they'd finished off his partially used one last night. Todd had a plan, and hoped planning now would avoid setbacks later. As a joke, he picked up a box of Trojan lubricated condoms. They'd be right there if needed, he thought, chuckling.

At 8:10 PM, if for no reason other than consistency, he disconnected Siri from the charger and asked: "I plan to stay the whole night, Siri. Do you see any problem with that?"

"Only that you will loose eight or ten hours, instead of your customary four, Todd."

Todd had considered that. He was roughly eight hours older than would be otherwise, and was looking at 18 hours; time travel could put a lot of extra mileage on his old bones, with no hope of getting them back. No big deal yet, but it could lead to problems down the road. He remembered an old story by Phillip K. Dick, where a time-traveler grew old waiting in the past for his nemesis to be born, only to discover that he was the boy's father, therefore the father to his own downfall. He wanted none of that.

"Set the arrival time for 8:15 PM, tomorrow night, Siri. And remind me when I get there to turn you off to save power. Wednesday might have his iPhone plugged in."

"Setting arrival time now. Adding a reminder to your calendar. Activating program: please hold."

Todd wondered what clothes Wednesday would select for his wardrobe tonight. Then he grinned, knowing he'd be waiting tomorrow night wearing nothing but a condom, his socks, and a smile.

* * *

Todd rolled lazily onto his side and snuggled against Wednesday's backside. He slid his left hand over his double's and down his abdomen and scooped the waiting penis into his hand. Wednesday chuckled softly and reached back and located Todd's strengthening erection.

"I thought you were going to sleep."

Todd kissed the junture of Wednesdays' shoulder and neck. Wednesday's penis stiffened in his hand and Todd found and wrapped his free hand around the one squeezing his own penis. Wednesday craned his head around for a kiss, which Todd supplied him with eagerly. While they kissed, Todd slowly stroked Wednesday's cock and enjoyed having his stroked in return. Wednesday moaned into his mouth.

"Want to suck my cock?" Wednesday murmured.

"I live to suck your cock," Todd whispered back. He urged Wednesday onto his back and rose to a leaning position, guiding the cock-head into his mouth. He moaned this time, along with Wednesday.

Wednesday had not been naked and waiting. Todd found him in the kitchen preparing dinner; clad only in apron and socks. Todd was treated to a wonderful home-cooked meal of linguini and meat sauce, his favorite, with delicious French bread and truffles for desert. They'd celebrated with wine, and had then retired to the bedroom with refilled glasses. The lovemaking had been thorough and gentle and passionate. For the first time-finally--he and his lover masturbated each other into their mouths, swallowing each other's sperm as it gushed onto their tongues. He couldn't understand why it hadn't happened before. For Wednesday, it was his third time. Todd would experience his second time later. Right now, he lived only to pleasure the cock in his mouth.

"You've got the sweetest darned mouth," Wednesday whispered, rubbing Todd's shoulders and back. Todd held the fleshy cock-head firmly between his lips, stroking the shaft, rather clumsily with his left hand, sucked lovingly. He stroked the soft hair on Wednesday's belly while own penis went unattended. Like his first night with Monday, Todd surrendered the initiative. He didn't mind in the least. He loved sucking Wednesday's cock.

"Come here, you," Wednesday ordered. They wrapped each other in arms and legs and made out like newlyweds on their wedding night. Todd especially loved it when Wednesday grasped both cheeks and ground their erections together. They both moaned loudly. Then Todd drew his leg up and cocked it over Wednesday's hip as a finger, and then two, slid gently up his ass.

"Fuck me," Todd begged.

"In a minute," Wednesday promised. He rolled onto his back and pulled Todd atop him, drawing Todd's legs up alongside him and then felt clumsily along the top of the nightstand. Todd knew what he wanted and retrieved it helpfully. Wednesday showed his thanks by sliding the dildo up Todd's tender but well lubricated behind.

"Oh...my God," Todd moaned. He elevated his butt and shimmied against Wednesday's chest, smiled happily, wagging his tail as Wednesday slowly worked the big dildo in and out. Todd was amazed how much he liked making love to a dildo. It was nothing compared with the real thing, of course-he loved that, especially doggie, his cheek pressed against the mattress smiling happily and holding his butt cheeks apart as Wednesday moved his 6-1/2" inches and out of him. He only wished that he were bigger.

"I can't believe I rejected this for all these years," Todd moaned, frustrated by his anger at Dale.

"It was great last night," Wednesday agreed. "You'll pay for it in the morning though."

"I'm paying for it now," Todd murmured. The end of his rectum was a study in achyness. Each time the dildo claimed full residence; it did so spearing him. Thank God it was huge and distributed the impact over a wide area; Todd hated to imagine what misery a pointed tip would leave him in. Walking would be uncomfortable enough as it was.

"I want to suck your cock damn it."

Wednesday chuckled. "What you mean, is you want to suck my cock and have me fuck your ass at the same time."

"Yes, damn it," Todd agreed. "Can we do that?"

Wednesday said nothing, only continued to spear Todd with the head of the dildo. Todd raised his head. "What?" he queried.

"Somewhere right about here, I figured it out."

Todd frowned, eyebrows arching, brain addressing the problem. He knew one way to have his cake and eat it too.

"You mean...?"

Wednesday nodded.

Todd considered that a moment. "That would be interesting," he mused, excitement, tinged with anticipation lighting his face. "Did you discuss this with Wednesday, last night?"

Wednesday nodded. "We didn't see any unsolvable difficulties. I'd jump ahead two nights to Saturday evening, Friday would jump ahead one night, and Saturday plays host."

Todd imagined three of them together, naked in bed, having wild sex. They could form a daisy chain like he'd seen three girls do in videos. They'd put Todd in the middle and use his mouth and ass at the same time. He'd be youngest his first night, of course, and the older Todd's little bitch, but that he could live with. Friday he'd be second youngest, and then senior partner on Saturday night. Then his eyebrows pulled together at the thought of four, instead of three.

Wednesday laughed. "You just imagined four of us having sex. I got the same laugh and the same explanation last night. It pleased me no more than it does you. But Wednesday pointed out we'd probably split into two's, partner up Day One and Day Two, and Day Three and Day Four. Then we'd tag-team each other, like in a wrestling match."

Todd laughed. "That could be interesting," he admitted, though a bit dubiously.

"My exact words. We left the idea on the table for later consideration. Like Saturday night, maybe."