Eddie let the screen door slam, and a moment later they heard dribbling and the ring of a ball clanging off the iron hoop nailed to the barn.
“Sounds like his game’s off,” Eddie2 said.
Rosa cleared the table—both of her. It was like being a twin, and she liked it. That meant the other Rosa liked it, too, and that made her happy. If the whole world were filled with Rosas, she wouldn’t have to wonder what people thought of her.
Eddie’s alien grandma watched him for a minute out the kitchen window, then she put the leftover sausage links away. She hadn’t eaten any.
“I’m gonna go play with him,” Eddie2 said. “This is a great opportunity to see how good I am.”
“Bad idea,” his grandma said, then “Don’t!” as he went out the back door. “Aw, crud.” She smiled wanly at Rosa. “Eddie doesn’t always get along with himself.” She rinsed a plate. “How about you?”
Rosa blinked, startled. How did you answer a question like that?
“Um, I think I’m okay.” She glanced at Rosa2, who stood up straighter. “It is odd meeting yourself.”
“Is your father the head of the Los Alamos National Lab in the world you came from?”
“Yeah. Here?”
Grandma nodded and ran water in the sink. “That’s a lot to live up to,” she said, not looking at Rosa.
“Yeah,” Rosa said. “Everybody knows my dad. I mean, I like it—but I’m going to have to do something pretty spectacular just to stay even.”
She sneaked a glance at Rosa2, and she gave Rosa a little nod.
“I suspect that would upset your dad,” Grandma said, squirting some dishwashing liquid into the water in the sink. “Since he’s dealt with that his whole life, too.”
Rosa gave a soft snort. “No, he hasn’t. His parents ran a grocery store.”
Grandma pointed a finger at her. “His parents were in an internment camp as children. That’s where they met, when they were three years old.”
“Wait. Did you know she knew Dad?” Rosa asked Rosa2.
Rosa2 shrugged. “Everybody knows him.”
“What do you think that did to your dad, knowing his parents were behind barbed wire when they were tiny?”
Rosa and Rosa2 looked at each other.
“I never thought about it that way,” Rosa2 said.
“He always felt he had something to live up to?” Rosa said. “Oh, wow.”
“I hope I’m not out of line talking to you about it,” Grandma said. “But we chatted once after a couple of drinks at a conference. And since I didn’t know him on your world …”
Outside, the Trevors howled. They and the Regs had gone out to watch the game. Grandma sighed and hung her dishcloth over the sink divider. “This worries me,” she said. “Eddie playing himself is like Jacob wrestling the angel, except without the angel.”
They followed her out the back door, the girls holding hands as they walked. A fixture by the barn cast a circle of light but did nothing to obscure the spangle of stars overhead. It was a muggy night and smelled of soil and grass and endless possibilities. The guys had taken white wooden rockers from the front porch and set them in the dirt at the edge of the circle. Both Eddies were shirtless now, and Rosa couldn’t tell which was which until she saw the flash of the Band-Aid on an arm. They walked up and stood behind the guys, and Rosa rested her arms on the back of Reg’s chair.
“They’re good,” he said quietly.
The night was cool, but both guys were beaded with sweat, their skin flushed with exertion, their eyes bright. Quick hands darted for the ball; equally swift hands swept it away. They pushed off with elbows and banged chests and shoulders on rebounds.
Rosa swatted a mosquito from her face. A bat swooped past the edge of the concrete where they played. Eddie2 went up for a jumper, and Eddie got an arm in his face. The ball hit the rim and bounced off, hitting in the dust beyond the cement. Eddie ran for it, then stepped onto the concrete and immediately went up for the shot. He sank it. Reg and Rosa gave each other a high five.
“Hey, Band-Aid Eddie,” Rosa called. “What’s the score?”
He didn’t respond, but darted a hand out to knock the ball away from Eddie2, who twisted and protected it, and caught Eddie’s cheekbone with his shoulder. Eddie pushed him hard and made him stagger, but Eddie2 feinted with the stagger and then cut, got around him, and made an easy layup.
He flipped the ball to Eddie, just out of his reach so he had to lunge for it. Eddie grabbed it one-handed, then cut left and made a fade-away jumper. When Eddie2 started to take the ball out, Band-Aid Eddie stole it, but slammed him with his torso in the process, making Eddie2 grunt.
“That’s mine,” Eddie2 said, holding his hand out.
“You’ve already got a truck and a grandma,” Eddie said, dribbling in place, looking at his own face between him and the basket. He shot a pretty arc, got the swish, and left his hands in the air, fingers dangling, for longer than was probably necessary.
“That doesn’t count. And we’re not even keeping score.”
“Yeah, but we both know I’m up by six points.”
“We said we weren’t keeping score.”
“I know you are in your head, chump. I’m you, remember?”
They stood facing each other, bodies slick with sweat, faces flushed, their waistbands wet. This was what Eddie could have looked like when he’d stepped into the ring with Rosa at the IA tryouts—like an animal. She shivered.
“What?” Eddie2 said. “You want to go?”
“Yeah. I want to go.”
Then they lunged at each other, torsos twisted like tree trunks in a tornado, landed on the concrete and rolled off it into the dirt beyond the circle of light. A cloud of dust rose and settled onto their backs. The night filled with the sound of grunts and hard fists slamming solid muscle.
Grandma stalked over to them and shouted. “Edward Parker Toivonen!” They ignored her. She leaned in and shouted, “Break it up! Right now!” They hesitated for a second, and she grabbed Band-Aid Eddie under the arms and hauled him back, sending them both sprawling. She crawled out from under him and stood, a hand on her back. “Damn it, Eddie, I’m too old for this.” She sighed. “Get up and shake hands.”
They shuffled to their feet and gave a perfunctory handshake without meeting each other’s eyes.
“What is the issue here?” she said, and when neither answered, “Talk. Now.”
Eddie twisted his bloody mouth into a wry smile. “You can’t make me talk. You’re not my real grandma.”
Grandma barked a laugh. “Oh, lord. But you sure are Eddie.” She gave him a keen look. “It must be hard to see me again, after you’ve buried me.”
He mumbled, “My dad is a real dick. I needed you to stay alive.”
“He’s a dick here, too,” Eddie2 said, walking over to retrieve his shirt. “He got caught stealing a car when I was nine and went to jail for a couple years. I don’t see him much now, and I don’t want to.”
“On our world, he went to jail later than that,” Rosa whispered to Rosa2. “I guess he didn’t get caught there. And then he did something worse.” He killed Lamar Sensenbrenner. Her dark eyes regarded Rosa2 soberly.
“How was my funeral?” Grandma asked. “Did a lot of people come?”
Eddie shrugged. “Yeah.”
“Excellent. Did you make a nice speech about me?”
He looked up at her, startled. “No. I was just trying to get through it without, you know …”
Grandma let that sink in. “Well, I think we should have a memorial for me.”
“Like in Tom Sawyer,” Rosa whispered.
Grandma heard and beamed. “Precisely. By all means, make a fuss. I’m worth it.”
Rosa laughed. Grandma walked to the back door and brought out the case with the mutant bacteria. “Get me a shovel, would you?” Eddie2 headed into the barn. “I’m going to get rid of this, and then …”
“Eleanor, you can’t just bury it in Oolitic, Indiana,” Reg2 said.
“Why not?” Grandma said.
“Because,” he broke off. “It’s not safe.”
“It’s probably not a permanent solution,” Grandma agreed. “But if they ever figure out who landed that craft, and that you came to Oolitic, it will drive them nuts looking for it here.”
“If they look for freshly turned earth,” Eddie said, “they’ll find plenty.” He gestured around them. “Indiana in the summertime.”
“Precisely,” Grandma said.
“You won’t put it where a plow could break it open, will you?” Reg asked.
“I am not an idiot,” Grandma snapped. “We’re going to get a little sleep, and then we’ll have a memorial brunch and see me out properly.” She shook her head. “If you want something done right, you have to do it yourself.” And with that she pitched the ball into the barn and picked up the shovel and the small black case of bacteria.