by John Nakagawa
Mercury Rising #11, August 1995
I was in the Laundromat one afternoon, thinking laundry day thoughts.While I was unloading the drier, I started to feel watched, There was someonestanding next to my basket watching me unload my laundry. I tried to ignoreher; it was the young red headed woman I noticed was looking at me on theway in,
Wow," she said finally. "You have a lot of laundry there.I looked at the laundry and I looked at her, unsure of what to say. Halfof it was my girlfriend's laundry. What exactly was she trying to say tome?
"You just did laundry a few days ago," She continued. I askedmyself whether this was true, trying to remember when I last did laundry.Did I talk to her and completely forget? Was I fucked up and rambling ather? I couldn't remember. It was an embarrassing situation.
A few days ago?" I asked.
"Maybe it was last week," she said.
"Yah, it was probably last week.
She was looking down at my basket I was unloading some colorful woman'sunderwear I also noticed a few pin striped uniform shirts in the basketthe shirts my company requires me to wear, and clean.
I remember you unloading those shirts, and that I recognized them. Youwork for Meticulus Messenger. We use them where I work. I've seen you atmy office before.
Yah, I do work for Meticulous I said. I'm an M'n M. It wasn't a factI was very happy about, just then.
How much longer would this stillborn conversation continue? I was gettingthe feeling that she might be a lonely southerner. Her manner of speakingseemed to be covering some kind of accent, as if she were making an effortto talk like people in these ports talk. If she was from the South, thenshe might not understand that it was nothing personal, but I just didn'tfeel like talking with her at the moment.
Then, for seemingly no reason at all, I had a radical change of heart.I realized that I might have been a little uptight and self-centered. itdawned on me that if I would just be a little more open for the moment,I might find her an interesting person to talk to. But I didn't end uphearing much about her. I am a bike messenger, I said, "Just beforecoming here to do my laundry, I had a long talk on the phone with my motheron the topic. She can't understand why I am a bike messenger. She saysI should be doing more with my life, or at least want to do more. At thetime it sounded to me like she was saying that bike messengers were losers,and therefore I was one too. I tried to explain it to her, But she keptreaching back to the sixties to try to understand it from the perspectiveof being young. She told me:
'You're riding around the city, looking at things. But what you're reallylooking for is yourself. You're riding around in the city where you grewup, still looking for yourself."
I looked up at the young red headed woman. She looked uncertain. I thoughtperhaps she wasn't drawn into the story yet. She'd get over her surpriseif I continued my story. I continued:
"My mother was right in a sense she didn't even understand. Yousee, she meant that I've been spending all this time 'looking for myself'as in asking myself who I am, or some such garbage. But I've literallybeen looking for myself. I have seen myself, or someone who looks exactlylike myself many times I mean that quite literally, you understand.
She nodded. There is an exact duplicate of myself around town Therecould be more than one for all I know, because he looks exactly like me.Some times he picks up my deliveries before I get there. I almost got firedonce because he picked up a package I was supposed to get and then he didn'tdeliver it! I told the boss I didn't pick up the package, but the guy inthe mail room told him that it was me, that I signed the package out inthe log book. He described me exactly. There was no way of talking myselfout of the situation. "I've been seeing my duplicate at work and offwork every once in a while for about four months now. My messenger numberis ’one- o-nine' but other messengers call me 'ten- nine' because that'smessenger code for 'could you repeat that please?' They see me come aroundand then leave, and then my duplicate comes by. They think they end uptelling me everything twice, Everything twice,
She smiled. She had a pretty smile. One day I lost my radio, and hefound it. Now, he answers for me on the radio. He sounds like me too. He'strying to take over my life. He wants to take over my job, my room, myfriendships, everything. I addressed her more directly for a moment. Nowyou're telling me that I was here a few days ago, but I don't remember.So I am wondering if you have simply mistaken me for someone else, whichhappened to me a lot even before the duplicate. But that's not it, becauseyou remember the shirts, and there's no one at work who looks like me.In a way I'm relieved that you see him too. But if that's true, it meansthat he has some work uniforms now. I have no idea how he could have gotthem. It could also mean that he's been using my shirts, and washing themtoo. He could be in and out of my house all the time now.
"That would be bad, because I hear he's not a great person Thestories I hear about him make him sound petty and narrow-minded. I wouldsay that he's a bad person Not that he's malicious, he's just someone Iwouldn't really like to hang around with. That's why I'm trying to findhim. I have to stop him. And let's face it; I have to do it myself, becausenobody else would believe me. "Anyway, to answer your question, lastnight I went to a party. It seemed I was getting the cold shoulder frommost of the people I knew there. When I was riding my bike home somethingweird happened. I was riding alone down a dark, deserted industrial street.When I was only a little ways home. I saw my duplicate sitting on my bike,under a street light, looking back at me. He had this contemptible, sneeringgrin on his face. Then he took off. I chased him almost ten blocks. I caughtup with him on Seventh street while he was crossing Bryant- you know, rightat the freeway off ramp. He ran the red light and I followed him. I gotright up behind him and as I reached over to grab him.. " I couldn'tfind the words to describe it to her. Then everything went quiet for amicrosec and, and it seemed to me that I rode right into his body. That'sthe only way I can describe it.
That's the last thing I remember about last night. This morning thephone woke me up and it was my mother. So you'll forgive me if I act alittle confused. I looked up at her. The expression on her face also confusedme. I couldn't quite read it.
Wow, she said noncommittally. What a trip."
"Yah."
We both stood there looking at one another for a long moment. I stuckmy thumbs into my pants pockets and looked down at my laundry basket. Thefly on my pants was wide open.
The timer on the drier behind me chirped. Excuse me, she said smiling.My drying's done. I excused myself and got out of her way. I turned backto her while she was unloading the drier and introduced myself.
My name's Tim, by the way.
Mine‘s Mary.
Well. I guess I'll see you around Mary.
See you later, Tim.
END
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