Markwildyr.com,
Post #237
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A friend and I were talking the other day, and he mentioned his cousin who has triplets… two of which are identical and on of which is fraternal. That possibility had never occurred to me before, even though I have twin brothers who are fraternal. That started me thinking….
When I start thinking, I sometimes go off the rails. And this is possibly one of those times. Nonetheless, it did start me thinking of three peas in a pod… one of which goes awry. This is the result. We’ll take them one at a time.
* * * *
YIP,
YAP, AND YUP
YIP
I should tell you right away
that we’re triplets… or so our parents insist. I think we’re twins with an
add-on. Yap and I are identical, Yup might not even be a member of the family,
much less the third triplet. That’s given me some heartburn over the years, I
can tell you.
Our first photograph showed
three peas in a pod. Dressed alike and looking alike... that is to say,
wrinkled up little faces without any definition. The second one, a year later
would get a passing grade. Dressed identically with pretty much the same
kisser. By the third one, something was off. The duds were still the same, but
one of the faces looked to be taking a different path toward maturity. Not a
bad path… just a different one.
By the time we entered
kindergarten, the difference was plain. That’s when we picked up our nicknames.
Actually, we’re John, James, and Joseph Karlosian, but when Mom’s brother saw
us for the first time, he shook his head and pronounced me as Yip, my identical
as Yap, and the other as… well, Yup. Why those monickers? I have no idea, but that’s
been who we’ve been ever since.
It’s not just the family who
gets thrown for a loop by the physical difference. The kids in our group tend
to treat me and Yap as a pair and Yup, well, not so much. And maybe that’s the
source of the heartburn I mentioned earlier. I’m a part of a team, whereas Yup’s
his own individual. He doesn’t even dress like us. Course, Yap and I have
different tastes in clothing styles now that we’re seniors in high school, but,
dammit, you know what I mean.
To be honest, it’s gotten to
me this year more than earlier because Cynthia Sharpe started seeing both Yup
and me. When I tried to put a stop to that, she looked me right in the eye.
“I know it’s weird. Yip. I like
you and all, but when I’m with you, it’s like I’m dating Yap too. If you
couldn’t make it one night, and Yap stepped in to cover for you, would I even
know?”
“Course you would. We’re not that
much alike.”
She fed me a line I’d come to
hate. “Two peas in a pod. When I’m with Joey, I don’t feel like that. I’m
seeing one guy, not two.”
Geez! She didn’t even call him
Yup. He was Joey. But I was still Yip and my identical was still Yap. I tried
to salvage things. “Hey, we have a good time when we go out, don’t we?
She nodded. “When I’m not
feeling weird.”
“Come on, Cindy, let’s go
steady. Look at it this way. With me, you get two for the price of one.”
She just glared at me. “That’s
sick, Yip.” With that, she walked away, leaving me to watch her graceful gait,
a sight that left me hungry for more and totally pissed at my disparate
brother.
It got worse. We all made the
basketball team, but Yap and Yup get playtime while I warm the bench. Once, Yap
and I switched uniform tops so I wore his number and played without the coach
knowing. Did okay too, until I fowled out. And when “Yip” did a better job,
coach tumbled. We never tried that again.
But soccer is what really
fried my fanny. That one sport I’m pretty good at. I surpass my identical in
that sport. That’s great, right? Would be if Yup didn’t play goalie on the
opposite team every time we practice. He really busts his butt blocking my
shots, more’n any other player’s. I mean he really goes the extra mile to see I
don’t score. He’ll literally eat dirt, leaping for my ball and taking hard
falls to keep me from scoring. It’s gotten so, half the time I aim for his
midriff hard as I can kick the ball. Giving him a good bruising every once in a
while did wonders for my blood pressure.
Then Yup did the unforgivable.
He started getting in between my identical and me. Dunno what Yap’s thinking, but
he’s letting it happen. That was the last straw. I went from neutral to
negative.
“Butt out, asshole,” I started
my onslaught one day when Yup asked Yap what he was doing that evening. “We’ve
got plans. And you’re not included.”
Yup got sort of a hurt look on
his alien face—which sent a thrill up my spine—and stammered, “Why not? We used
to do things together all the time.”
“That was before you left the
family.”
“What the hell you talking
about?”
“Before you started looking
like a frog instead of a human being.”
“Now, Yip—” Yap started.
“Shut up. Don’t encourage him.”
Yup turned red in the face.
“If I look like a frog, how come Cindy goes out with me?”
“Figured a kiss would turn you
into a prince, I guess. Didn’t work, did it?”
“What brought this on?” Yup
asked. “What’d I ever do to you.”
“Besides Cindy, you mean? Go
away, man, you don’t belong here. You don’t even look like the rest of us.
You’re parked in the wrong family.”
It went downhill from there.
*.*.*.*.
Well, the die
seems to be cast. Now to see where it ends up, seven or snake eyes? Any
guesses? However it turns out, this seems to be a different kind of story than
I usually write. Stick with me, please.
Website and blog: markwildyr.com
Email:
markwildyr@aol.com
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Now my
mantra: Keep on reading. Keep on writing.
You have something to say, so say it!
See you later.
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