“Just send me the bill!” Jaymie told Jo, waving with fake geniality after the departing SUV. “Jesus, what terrifying people… Aaron! Did they treat you ok? Did you do ok in there?”

“I punched a guy in the kidney, had sex with a plastic woman, and stole the therapy cat,” said Aaron, producing the squashed and bedraggled animal from under his jacket.

“That’s my boy,” said Jaymie proudly.

“God, I try so hard to respect you guys,” said Rex.

“I wasn’t bragging,” said Aaron. “You know,” he confessed, “there was a little while when I thought that… maybe I really was a clone.” He looked embarrassedly down at the shabby pointed shoes he’d borrowed from Derek.

“Aaron,” said Jaymie gently, “If you were a clone, I’d have milked it our entire life.”

“I thought since I’m overly panicky, maybe it’s a sign that something went wrong, that I’m defective, or I’m shutting down when everybody else seems to be gaining speed. I thought maybe it could explain everything that’s wrong, and then I got worried that maybe it’s all going to end for me too, at any moment—like the clones who expire,” said Aaron.

“What! You’re not defective—lots of people have panic attacks! So many people. And thinking something terrible is about to happen is just part of it. It’s just, like, a project. We’re working on it. We’ll get better at it,” said Jaymie.

Aaron nodded and said, “Ok. So, for sure not a clone?”

“I would never have invented you and not told you about it. You’re not a clone,” said Jaymie with great sincerity. “…You’re me from another dimension! See, when I was little, I got very lonely. Fortunately, I found an interdimensional portal in our backyard. I went into it and found a dimension where Mom had drowned whilst on a bender on tour—I realize that’s dark, but there’s a happy ending! The Jaymie in that dimension was all alone (obviously there would be no Rex), so I rescued me—you—from an orphan life and brought you—me—back here to be my best friend forever! …Am I cheering you up?”

“That never happened,” Aaron objected. “It took me years to even figure out who you were! I thought you were just this loud guy that lived with me and Mom. Like a weird roommate that climbs in your bed uninvited every night and sings until very late for no fathomable reason. Then when I was four or five, I was like, ‘Ok, this guy looks a lot like me,’ and then I put it all together about the egg splitting after fertilization and creating two people instead of one.”

“It’s funny, because in some of those alternate dimensions, I actually did have a twin brother, and his name was Josh and he was an ok person, but I never would have separated him from his Jaymie because what kind of a complete psychopath takes somebody’s twin?” He projected this last question toward Jymmy, who’d reappeared a little way down the block, lurking and smoking a cigarette.

“Shit, it’s him!” Aaron exclaimed. “He tried to—I don’t know what he was trying to do but he came after me and it was really fucking scary!”

“I wouldn’t have hurt you, Aaron. I just didn’t want you to go out and get caught by the collectors!” Jymmy lied, cautiously approaching them. “And I needed a drummer!” he added truthfully.

“What about Spencer, then!” demanded Jaymie. “You killed him!”

“We ran over something dead on the road and he hit his head on the steering wheel!” Jymmy did not add that he had helped significantly to facilitate the meeting (and several more meetings, shortly thereafter) between Spencer’s head and the steering wheel.

“So you put him in the ditch?” said Jaymie incredulously.

“I’d have dealt with it better, but I had to go save Aaron!”

“Sounds highly suspicious.” Jaymie gave him a withering but uncertain look.

“Should I chase him away again?” asked Jo.

Jymmy began, “If you would smile more—”

“Jymmy!” said Jaymie sharply.

“I meant, it’s nice to meet you, nice gir—nice adult person. How do your feelings feel today?” Jymmy corrected himself.

“They’re fine, thank you,” said Jo.

“Jymmy? Really? Ok, so what’s up with this guy?” said Aaron.

“Aaron, meet my clone, Jymmy,” said Jaymie. “With a ‘y.’ Two ‘y’s. I understand you’re already somewhat acquainted.”

Aaron stepped forward and warily shook Jymmy’s hand. “Did Jaymie name you that? Our mom tried to spell my name like that—Ayryn—but I dropped it pretty fast… Jymmy with a ‘y’. Jesus.”

“Jysys…” Jaymie whispered, spelling it in the air behind Aaron’s head. Jymmy yipped with mirth.

“Aaron, I’m happy you’re back,” said Jo. She squeezed his shoulder.

“Yeah, thanks for…” Aaron glanced at Jymmy. “…helping me out.”

“I’ll let you guys do your band stuff,” said Lucas, who’d been watching this exchange with bewilderment. “I’m meeting some folks at the show. See you there?” He gave them a wave and headed back to his car, calling over his shoulder, “And later you’ll explain…?”

“I’ll explain everything,” Jo promised. “Once I know what the hell is going on.”

“Jo! You’ve got a new romance! —Or something!” Jaymie observed excitedly.

“Or something.” She agreed.

“I’m not so sure about that guy,” said Aaron, pulling Jaymie’s jacket tighter around his shoulders.

“Just remember, Jo,” lectured Jaymie, “Our culture over-emphasizes the importance of romantic love—no need to beat yourself up if you find you’re not as into your BF as you are your BBBFB. There are many things in life just as meaningful as romantic relationships—”

“I told you that!” Rex cut in. “You couldn’t understand why some ex of yours was stalking you and I had to explain that women are inundated with messages since childhood telling them they need love from a guy in order to feel validated—”

“And they were wise words, Rex. I felt I should pass it on so Jo won’t fall victim to being ‘inundated with messages,’ and so forth. I really took it to heart.”

“No doubt,” said Rex coldly.

“All I’m saying, dear Josephine, is don’t make any hasty decisions re: marriage and/or children, because we adore you, and your skills are vital to the success of our—”

“My name is Joanna.”

“What!” Jaymie yelped. “How did I not know that! Did you all know that?”

Aaron and Rex gave an affirmative “Yes,” and “Duh,” respectively.

“I’m just thinking,” said Aaron. “What do all the shows where somebody died have in common? That guy.” He raised his eyebrows emphatically.

“Ah—that’s the Aaron we know and love!” said Jaymie happily. “You know I love you more than anything, right?”

“Still drunk, huh?”

“Except Rex, of course—our little Buddha-punk! You know we love you more than anything, right Rex?”

“I’m still mad at you, Jaymie,” said Rex.

“Right, Aaron?”

“That’s right,” said Aaron. “I love you, Rex, but I was thinking about it while I was locked up—you’re going to get, like, a lot of botulism in your lifetime. Sometimes I have to put up some walls, you know? I foresee many punk houses in your future. Rex—don’t eat any rice you find in the fridge!”

“Aaron, stop stressing about things that haven’t happened yet. You guys are my punk house,” said Rex, as Aaron shifted his cat aside and hugged them tightly. “And I got food poisoning just last week from that casserole you left.”

“Rex, that was there for like a month!”

“I know, but I was hungry and I don’t know how to cook like you guys do,” said Rex balefully.

“Poor poppet,” said Aaron. “Do we need to get you fed before the show?”

“Rex, you only ate two scoops of marshmallows for dinner!” Jaymie exclaimed.

“Don’t try to distract me!” said Rex, scowling at Jaymie. “If Aaron’s not going to stay mad at you, I am.”

“I’ll make it up to you!” vowed Jaymie. “I’ll do anything—just say the word! I’ll make your favourite supper every night for two weeks!”

“That’s a lot of elbow noodles with vegan butter substitute and salt,” Aaron muttered.

Rex gave Jaymie one of their indescribable teenager expressions, and Jaymie knew he’d made a mistake.

“Quit smoking,” said Rex.

“Perhaps I was too hasty in my offer,” he said quickly. “A few stipulations—”

“Quit smoking or I’ll never forgive you for cloning yourself and getting Aaron kidnapped.”

“Rex!” Jaymie pleaded. “You know cigarettes are my third or fourth favourite thing in the world—after you guys, of course, and the wholesome joys of music-making!”

Rex crossed their arms.

“Ok, fine. I’ll quit after this pack—”

“Give me them.”

“They’re very expensive and I don’t want them to go to waste—”

“I’m always afraid one or both of you is going to die and I’ll be all alone,” Rex complained, and Jaymie finally handed the box over, with great tragic ceremony and many curses. Rex immediately pulled out three cigarettes, put them all in their mouth, and mimed playing their bass, pleased with themself.

“Rex, cigarettes aren’t cool,” Aaron said sternly, even though he knew deep in his heart that they were.

“I hate it. Somebody take them away from them,” Jaymie moaned.

“Give them to Jymmy,” Aaron suggested. “As a truce—so he doesn’t murder us in our sleep.” He turned toward their clone-triplet, who stood chain smoking and watching them intently the way a child watches adults discuss something they believe is beyond the child’s ken.

“Hey! Jymmy,” Jaymie grimaced at what he was about to do. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I made you and then never explained the world to you, and let you go off on your own to figure things out… I shouldn’t have done that.”

“Ok, Jaymie,” said Jymmy, grinning like an overexcited dog that you’re not sure is about to lick you all over your face or rip your hand off out of love.

“Would you like me to get you a job with Canada Post? I have some leverage with one of my bosses.”

“What does ‘leverage’ mean?”

“It means she made some lude comments to me, and some inappropriate physical contact, and I submitted enough complaints that all I have to do is say the word to HR to get her fired.”

“Oh. Are you ok?” asked Jymmy unexpectedly.

“In this case I don’t feel in danger, and it made for several humorous anecdotes. Still, it's preferable when people respect your wishes to keep things professional,” said Jaymie.

“So then it’s not super bad? But if I were to do that same thing with the ladies at the bar, it would be pretty bad, right?”

“That’s right. Don’t ever do that.”

“Ok, I won’t. Is that sexism?”

“It’s a good question. Rex?” But Rex was too busy trying to light a cigarette in the wind to be interested in explaining power dynamics.

Jymmy made up his mind. “I couldn’t leave Big Niki. He really cares about me, I think. So much that he gives me money just for hanging out behind the counter and pouring people’s drinks.”

“That’s a job, Jymmy.”

“And there’s something about him that makes me feel really comfortable. If I was worrying about something beforehand, like whether my landlady will be upset when I pay my whole rent in toonies again, it goes away for a little while. I don’t know why that is.”

“Ah.” Jaymie felt, for the first time, a surge of real compassion for the clone. “It’s probably his accent. And how big and confident he is… He reminds you of our dad. Even though you don’t know our dad.”

“If you think so, Jaymie!” said Jymmy merrily. “You said something about cigarettes?”

Rex tossed the package to the clone, who happily pocketed the offering, said, “Ok, Jaymie, I won’t murder you, I guess,” and bounded away into the night.

“Good solution, Aar,” said Jaymie, still looking sore. “Again, I’m glad to have you back. Hey, you were bluffing about moving out, right?”

“Yeah, I was just trying to make you mad,” Aaron admitted, adjusting his cat so that just her head poked above the collar of his jacket.

“Good—that’s what I thought. Just give it a few more years, you know? Go see your CBT some more. Make sure you’re equipped, right?” Then he noticed something and narrowed his eyes at his brother. “Are those my jeans?”

“What? Oh, yeah, I wore them to go see Jo’s show, because I wanted to look nice—”

“Without even asking.”

“—And my good ones were in the wash. But then I got collected, so I’ve been wearing them all weekend, actually, and now they’re all damp and dirty… can I borrow another pair for the tribute show?”

“Unbelievable.”

The Bukowskis made it to the show just in time for their set, which was convenient because had they arrived early it might have been difficult for Jaymie not to accidentally charm a cigarette out of someone.

They played what they’d all agree afterwards was a flawless set—and I could tell you what band they successfully duplicated, or suggest that they were something fun like The Strokes or Arcade Fire or The Killers, but wouldn’t you rather imagine them as your own favourite band? That sounds much more fun, to me.