Double Vision

A short story by Bohie Blackwood
25/4/2020

Chapter 1: A Shout in the Dark

He was ripped from sleep, his mind immediately recoiling as it registered the rupture. Someone was shouting. He frowned; eyes still closed. Not yet, he urged. The shouting continued. His eyes stung as he opened them ever so slightly, just one at a time. He lifted up the bottom corner of the curtain by his bed, still raining. The dark clouds made it impossible to tell what time of day it was. Slowly, he reached over to lift the watch from the bed side table, squinting to focus on the illuminated screen.

9:30am.

He groaned and rolled back over to face the wall, ignoring the outside world.

Lim lived on the 7th floor of a dingy apartment building with paper thin walls. He worked night shifts, stacking shelves at a supermarket across town, and had only been asleep for two hours. He didn’t know the names of the couple that lived next door, but he could tell that the man was in pain and the woman was caring for him. They didn’t speak to each other in English, and he’d never actually seen the man. The woman shuffles past him in the corridor, eyes always down, never a glance his way. He figured she was embarrassed, or just sad really, and never pushed to engage with her. 

Sometimes he heard others, like the guy who shouts at the game in apartment 507, and someone on the third floor that plays the drums in the evenings – but the apartment block’s usually pretty quiet for him when he’s trying to sleep during the day and he’s out of there by 7:30pm, so it’s just when the couple next door start up that he ever gets bothered. 

The funny thing about the couple next door is, it’s not so much the shouting that gets to him. It’s her. She sounds so patient and caring and Lim can hear in her voice how much she loves him, even though Lim can’t understand what shes saying. He gets this hollow feeling in his stomach and his heart beats real fast and he thinks about his mum. He scrunched the pillow down over his ears, but he knew it was no good. Nothing gets that hollow feeling out once it’s set in. 

Dragging his lanky form to an upright position, he dressed in the same jeans and hoody from the day before, grabbing his head phones and a jacket on his way out the door. 

When he needs sleep like this and the couple next door start up, Lim goes down to his own secret spot a few blocks away. Theres a concrete slab under a freeway overpass thats totally hidden so no one else knows about it. It was right next to a railway line with a scrubby thicket of birch trees and an dumped washing machine. He had a bare mattress there on the ground, and a suitcase full of tattered books, and there he could loose himself in the noise from the passing trains. He liked thinking about who might be on them, travelling off somewhere important. Like maybe, he thought, there was a group of grieving widows on their way their husbands funeral. Or maybe there was a man with different coloured eyes on board who’s catching the train to hospital after spraining his ankle. He’d for sure have a beautiful lady tending him, Lim thought, wrapping the hurt limb with some dazzling cloth donated by a travelling Moroccan salesman from the next carriage… He liked this place. It was his place. 

After his shifts at the supermarket, he always stopped to eat breakfast in the same little café around the corner from his work, Due Fratelli. He enjoyed listening to the old Italian men philosophising over their coffees and watched the waitress behind the counter who had a round face and a mole on her neck. She never paid him much attention, and he imagined that she had a handsome husband who was a mechanic like his father. One day, Lim thought, this husband had been dragged away by the secret police for being a spy, and from then on she received love letters from him from an interstate prison. They’d have to be transcribed, of course, because he had to write to her in code… Lim always got lost in daydreams like this. His mum used to love his stories, but he didn’t write them down anymore. 

Lim didn’t do much of anything anymore. His days blurred into nights in a wearisome reality of work, sleep, work, sleep. Each bus ride to and from work was as forgettable as the last. He hadn’t noticed this, of course, until a new guy started at his work, throwing Lim’s life into an irreversible spin which felt completely out of his control. 

Chapter 2: Through the Supermarket Shelving

There wasn’t anything remarkable about that night shift until Lims’ headphones ran out of batteries at about 1am. He was replacing crackers in the biscuit isle and could now hear two younger girls in isle 7 chatting about a new guy that had started there a week earlier. They liked him, that was clear, and were sharing what they knew about him as they moved away into isle 8. In the break room, Jose from the delivery dock was telling Sandra about the new guy, over a cup of tea. They didn’t look up when Lim entered, which made him feel like he was intruding. He heated up his pasta in the microwave and ate it outside in the corridor, sitting on a milk crate. Lim thought he saw the new guy from behind about an hour later, chatting to the “cool” night manager, Steve, but it wasn’t for another few shifts untill he saw him properly. 

When he did, Lim almost feinted. His heart raced. The new guy looked exactly like him. 

Same black hair from his Italian side, same hazel eyes that looked just like his mother’s, even the same broken lump at the bridge of his nose. Will reached a hand up to touch the bridge of his own nose really instinctually, thinking back to bully who broke it in highschool. Lim had always felt that it made him look like a thug. The lump on the new guys nose just made him look sort of dashing, like he’d lived a little. No wonder the girls like him, Lim thought with a dizzying confusion. The only difference he could see was that the new guy slicked his hair backwards with hair gel. Lim ran his hand roughly through unruly locks, imagining them slicked back with scented product and girls smiling at him. He watched the new guy with morbid fascination, animatedly muted through the window of the manager’s office. It was like watching a version of him that he’d always wanted to be; confident, easy going, friendly and attractive. The two blokes chatting to him seemed completely engaged in his every word. Lim was rostered on out back in the delivery docks for the rest of the night, and didn’t see the new guy again, but he never stopped thinking about him, and about the uncanny likeness between them. 

He left his shift on edge that night, shaken up. He felt really small. He instinctually headed for café Due Fratelli, craving a sense of comfort and a bit of his own routine, despite the rain that continued to fall. I must be going crazy, the thought to himself as he walked there in the early dark, there’s no way. By the time he rounded the corner to the café he’d decided he must have imagined the whole thing and resigned to get more sleep. 

But as he crossed the street over to Due Fratelli, Lim saw through the window that his double was already there. He slunk slowly back up against the corrugated fence behind him, watching on from the shadows as The Double sat down at his booth, engaging confidently in conversation with his Italian men!

Lim had a dull feeling in his stomach - a sense of sheer invisibility like he’d never experienced before. He’d been replaced. 

As hungry as he was in that moment, his stomach was already full with a great and dissatisfied envy. He watched on for almost an hour while The Double ate and flirted with his waitress. He watched him leave the café and followed him at a distance for the short block to the nearest bus stop; Lim’s bus stop. He was entranced. He couldn’t dare talk to him, if he did he was sure the whole universe would implode. When Lim’s bus came, The Double got on and greeted the driver with a smile and a friendly chat. 

The bus drove off in a puff of poisonous fumes, leaving Lim feeling breathless under a flickering streetlamp, staring into the deep abyss within. His chest was heaving, his reality was crumbling. 

What the fuck is going on? 
Have I died? 
Am I dead?
Was I even fucking born?! 

The streetlight above him flickered, and went out. 

Chapter 3: A Mirror Image

On their next shift, Lim became obsessed with The Double; watching him through the shelves at work, spying on him at Due Fratelli. The Double seemed completely at ease in himself. He was attractive to women, helpful, gregarious, and seemingly on first name basis with all the bus drivers. 

Lim became dark, drained, frazzled… with a confused sense of self-doubt underpinned by a wild and raw rage. 

He’s got the life I’ve always wanted, he thought, The Double is living my life without anyone even noticing that I’m gone!  

He couldn’t stop thinking about it. Instead of sleeping he just paced around his house for hours and hours, questioning his own reflection in the mirror. He began to see himself as an illusion; questioning the crooked lump on the bridge of his nose, the dishevelled hair. He pinched his skin like it was made out of modelling clay, leaving big red marks on his cheekbones. Could his reflection be that easy to replicate? He combed his hair back with some water, trying to style it in the same way that The Double did; slicked back and matched with a devil-may-care attitude.

To his surprise, his face instantly brightened, and his posture even seemed to straighten up a little bit. He saw himself differently in that moment, a contorted comprehension suddenly dawned on him. 

If he can copy me, then why can’t I copy him?

His unruly curls sprang unceremoniously back out of place. The shadow came back over his eyes. 

It was stupid to even consider it; everyone would see through you in an instant.

He disregarded his own reflection.

The shouting started up again in the next-door apartment, impolitely interrupting his self-obsessed thoughts. He grabbed his jacket and stormed out the front door, angry at his neighbour for the very first time. The woman next door was coming out of their apartment with tears on her face at the same time, they almost bumped into each other. Lim immediately snapped out of his headspace. He wanted to ask if she needed help, and ask what was wrong with the bloke, but he stumbled over his words. He gave up trying to say anything and opened the stairway door for her instead. She snuck through quickly, leaving him alone and deeply moved by her situation. His own anger and obsession abated, he put on his jacket against the cold night air and went back to work. 

That night, The Double wasn’t there. Lim looked for him without trying to draw attention to himself, he even asked Sandra in the break room if she had seen him but she ignored him and kept reading the paper. 

When his shift ended, he walked tentatively to Due Fratelli - pausing at the fence to see if The Double was already inside. Lim sighed with relief as he sank down into his old familiar booth, smiling at the waitress for the very first time. She didn’t smile back but that was okay, he knew he could chat with her now cause he’d already seen himself do it.

He helped a lady carry her shopping bags onto the bus even though she said she didn’t need his help and when he got on the bus itself, he noticed that the bus drivers name was actually written on the ID card above his seat. He used it in greeting and made a little comment about it being a long shift but the driver nodded and “mmmhmm”ed without enthusiasm. Lim was literally beaming. He couldn’t believe how easy it was, everyone would think he was The Double in no time. He ran into his neighbour at the entrance to their apartment block. She looked happier than the night before. He held the door out for her, and she smiled and entered through. He felt at peace. His apartment was quiet, and he laid down and sunk into a deep sleep. 

The next shift passed the same; no Double. He cracked a joke with the waitress... 

The next shift was the same, he chimed in a bit with the old Italian guys… 

The bags under his eyes reduced a little, he felt like his reflection almost had a healthy glow. He wet the comb and styled his hair back before leaving for work the next evening, and even tried giving his reflection a little smile (though that felt a bit silly). 

But that night at work, The Double was back. 

Apparently, he had taken some time off because his grandmother had died. Everyone was patting him on the shoulder and asking if he was okay and he seemed sad and melancholy. Lim watched on miserably. He imagined The Double grabbing a nearby pillow and smothering the life out of his dear own granny just so he could reap the attention of his workmates. 

It makes me sick.

Someone had bought in a tray of muffins in to cheer The Double up and he only took one and left the rest in the break room to share around. Lim was furious. 

He paced around the empty room, grabbing a muffin roughly from the tray and peering into it as a symbol for all of the relentless injustices of the world. He raised the arrogant muffin to his lips and slowly took a bite. He felt a rush of power, forcing its helpless flesh between two pounding jaws, grinding it maliciously against the roof of his mouth with a fierce flick of his arid tongue. He savoured the destruction. 

There was a warm gooey bit tucked secretly away in the centre of the thing. 

So, you’re a fancy muffin, he noted with contempt. You disgust me. 

He held the muffin up to his face and stared into the seeping wet chocolate, watching gravity overcome its’ chirpy intentions as it ached and sagged out of the spoiled container. He gave the gaudy little structure a tight squeeze, encouraging the loathsome liquid out. It dribbled through his lips, unnoticed, as he tossed the remainder of the ill-gotten gesture unceremoniously into the garbage bin. 

There, he stood over it, watching the pitiful thing bleed out over empty take-away containers and coke cans. His leering smile was half snarl, and he flashed his chocolate-stained teeth through a devilish grin, wildly amused by the muffins feeble demise. 

He frowned, coming out of the trance, blinked a few times and looked around the break room. The cat calendar on the wall, the electric kettle with the broken lid, the cheesy “You’re The Only Thing I Like At Work Other Than The Coffee” magnet on the fridge, and a queasy sort of nastiness took hold in the pit of his stomach; remorse.

Recoiling from his own reflection in the small mirror above the sink he tried desperately to wash the chocolate off his mouth before anyone saw the incriminating evidence. He wet a tea towel and rubbed at the chocolate that had snagged on the chest of his pale blue work shirt. It smeared further. He used hand soap, scrubbing manically at the chocolate’s vicious grip which inevitably lessoned somewhat but the wet patch that ensued left a bigger clue! And always… always, that muffin glared up at him, gloating triumphantly from its throne of narcissistic pleasure. 

He began to panic, splashing cold water on his face, lashing out at his reflection in the mirror. He tried to instil an air of authority over his body parts;

Eyes, you are way too wide. There’s too much white in there and for fucks sake calm those pupils down! 

No response… 

He gave up and rubbed and rubbed at that damned wet patch again, waving wildly under the hand dryer trying to activate the machine. When it finally came on, he was mortified by the noise, scrambling desperately to shut it up before the whole building came running. He shut the power off at the switch. The sudden silence was deafening. 

He had to get out of there. 

Chapter 4: Rain’s Reflection

It was 3 am and pouring with rain when he made his escape. He feigned an air of confidence walking out through the service entry, avoiding eye contact with a group of guys smoking ciggies under the EXIT sign. No one looked over. He walked purposefully into the outside air, then broke into a run. 

The rain was hammering down. Wide puddles on the street reflected headlights zooming by, giving Lim a dizzying sense of vertigo. A taxi honked him out of the way yelling obscurities into the distance. The world was spinning. When the bus pulled up, he pushed two drunk girls aside to get onboard first, choosing a seat right down at the back. Out of the window he saw a young couple kissing under the narrow roof of the bus shelter. He felt an aching tug at his heart that often happened when lovers were nearby. As the bus drove off, they broke apart and Lim twisted his body around in a crazed spasm of flailing limbs to get a better view of them. It was him, The Double and the waitress with the round face from Due Fratelli. 

“No! No, no, no, NO! C’mon!” He banged on the window. 

The drunk girls we’re laughing at him. He didn’t notice. 

The bus picked up speed heading south on the freeway. 

It was him though…The crooked nose, the black hair, it was all right fucking there! 

He hadn’t even gelled his hair this time, it was all chaotic like mine! 

Chapter 5: Through the Threshold

Lim was a mess. He sprinted from the bus stop to his apartment block, bursting through the front door and bounding up five flights of stairs in a few seconds. His head was pounding, his heart was aching. He didn’t know what to do, he felt like crying. He felt like screaming! He sank onto the floor and hugged himself. 

Hours went by and there he stayed. He thought he heard a knock at the door but wrote it off as a dream, and then suddenly, as if it was any other day, the sun came up. Long beams of light crawled towards him along the mottled grey carpet until he was pressed right up against his own front door horrified by thought of its’ burning touch. 

But then it found him, and he let a big breath out. It wasn’t so bad, after all. It felt warm like an old friend had come in to check on him. He felt heartened by it, deciding in time to walk down to his secret underpass spot and get some sleep.

The walk down there calmed him down. He moved to the sunnier side of the street, dodging puddles from the evening rains, breathing mist out in the morning air, walking through patches of rising steam. 

It can’t have been The Double making out with that girl, he reassured himself with the sun on his back. He was at work and besides, she’s married to the mechanic.

He warmed his hands in cosy jacket pockets, taking deep breaths and relaxing into the familiarity of the journey to his own little private sanctuary, a journey he had made so many times before. He smiled to himself at the memory of finding this place, unused, unloved. It was always right there waiting for him, just as he had left it. 

He checked no one was around before veering right just before the overpass began - slipping a little on the steep dirt that lead down into thick scrub. It looked like a dead end, but he had found a way through. He knew to take a hard left and follow the treeline under the bridge and down through a gap in the fence. He’d put a palette in front of it, months ago, to hide it from the council. He smiled again at his own ingenuity, but the smile faded... the palette wasn’t there, not as it should have been. It was dragged off to the left, upside down and halfway into a big muddy puddle. He didn’t understand, he would never have left it like that. He had left it leaning up against the fence, like he always did. 

His heart pounded again, he squinted into the harsh shadows of the morning sun... Nothing, no one. He got down on all fours this time to slip quietly through without touching the fence. When he got back to his feet he stayed hunched over, wiping his hands on his jeans to brush off the wet stones that had stuck. 

Cautiously, he followed the familiar path as it wound its narrow way through the tight thicket right down to the train line. 

Chapter 6: Climax

Lim felt violated. Unsure. Afraid. 

The misty thicket seemed denser than usual, and the narrow path seemed to go on for ever. His mind flashed with possibilities of who could be in there, in his sacred space. 

Maybe it’s the grieving widows who need a place to live now that their husband is dead, and they’re cooking Nonnas’ recipes on an open fire… Even if it was, they’d never let us eat with them. They’d chase us away with stiff little brooms as soon as they saw us. 

Maybe it’s the lady next door who’s run away from her husband. 

Maybe it’s the husband who’s crawled his way down here to moan and wail all day!

He groaned at the thought, looking over his shoulder suspiciously to make sure no one heard. But he was alone… He walked on.

Maybe it’s the waitress with the round face... 

Yeah, she’s torn up all the letters from her husband and gonna jump a train out of here.
Maybe she wouldn’t notice my hair…

Maybe… 

There was no view from afar. The beauty of this place was that you couldn’t see it until you were in it. He was out of the bushy scrub before he knew it was happening - stunned like a dummy in the stark morning sun. He shaded his eyes to gain a deeper understanding… And then saw him. Rummaging through the suitcase of books like the owned the damned thing. The fucking Double. 

The guy stood up in shock at Lim’s sudden appearance, dropping the book from his hands onto the dusty concrete floor. Lim gasped at the scene, wildly offended by the mistreatment of his own property, I would never do that. The Double kicked it a bit to try and hide the evidence, then realising he was making things worse he bent down quickly and picked the book up, dusting it off and taking a few steps forward to hand it to Lim. 

“I didn’t… I didn’t mean to…” 

“You didn’t mean to?! YOU DIDN’T MEAN TO?!”

Lim ran forward with unabashed fury, tackling The Double around his middle. They fell back together onto the dusty mattress, tumbling in a confused frenzy of limbs and old books from there to the concrete, to the dirt, then back to the concrete. The sound of a passing train ricochet off the underpass above them, muting the sound of their scuffle for a long 5 seconds. Lim had never punched anyone before but he was trying to now as they wriggled back and forth in a cloud of concrete dust. He finally pinned The Double down and was preparing for the blow of all blows when Lim saw his face close up for the first time. 

It’s not me… It wasn’t him! 

It was someone else entirely, a whole other guy! 

He had dark hair, sure, but it was a thinner texture and the lump on his nose looked more rounded than Lim’s. He leaned his head to one side, taking this new guy in. He was narrower in the shoulders too, and had a thinner face, kind of angular… Lim blinked a few times while the dust settled. His eyes came into focus. The train had passed and the subtle sounds of nature in the thicket returned. 

The Double’s was trying to free his arms to protect his face from the oncoming blow, he twisted under Lim’s legs trying to free himself. A tear slipped down across a dirt stained cheek. Lim let him go.

“I’m sorry, alright? I’m sorry!” He sat up, wiping his face with one long swipe of his right palm. “I know I’m intruding.. I followed you here once, months ago. I live in your apartment block.” 

Lim was confused. Then abashed. Then annoyed. He got up and faced the train line, trying to process.

“Wait, what? You don’t live in my apartment block.”

“Yeah, I do! I’ve lived there for a year now.”

“No way, I would have seen you.” 

“We pass each other all the time! You never look up.”

“No, we don’t!”

“Yes, we do. Fucking stop it!” He was getting mad.

“I would have seen you! You look just like me!” 

“I fucking know that. I thought we might be brothers at first, but I asked my mum and she just laughed at me.” 

“You asked your mum?” …You have a mum?

“Yeah, she lives a few stops away.” He waved his left hand loosely towards the train line.

Lim stood back and took him in. He actually looked a few years younger than he thought. He wore a dark blue jacket over a white t-shirt as well, but his was a workwear zip up that was fraying up near the hood. His jeans were black too - under all the dirt. But his shoes were New Balance, not Nike’s, and they were grey, not green. He had muddy streaks on his face where sweat and tears had gotten mixed up in it all. Lim felt ashamed. “You’ve lived there for a year?” 

Lim looked out towards the railway line, his memories from living in the old apartment block were swimming loosely behind his eyes. His mum had died when he was 14 and he’d left school soon after, obsessed with writing music. He worked in a record store downtown for a while trying to catch a break in the industry, but it didn’t come before the record store closed down. By 17 he was broke and stocking shelves in a grocery store, living next to a dude with some mysterious chronic pain. 

It felt like the last few years had gone by in a blur. A monotonous ride of night working and day sleeping and escaping down here to his underpass spot when the weather allowed. Not only could he not recall this guy right here in front of him, but Lim couldn’t really see any faces clearly, not in his minds’ eye, at least. He was struggling to even recall the sad lady next doors’ face, let alone his co-workers… 

I don’t even write anymore… 

He turned back around to – 

“What’s your name?”

“Luca.”

“Luca?”

“Yeah, Luca.”

“I’m Lim.” He saw his mum roll her eyes. “Liam. It’s Liam, actually.”

Luca chuckled a little, embarrassed. 

“Hi, Liam.” He said as he nervously ran his fingers through his hair. Liam put out a hand and pulled him up to standing.

“You followed me here?”

“Yeah, I mean... I dunno, one time. Ages ago. I stopped at the fence that time but when I saw you’d left work early last night, I kinda figured you’d be down here. You looked kinda weird last night, like… upset.”

“So that was you at work?”

“What do you mean, it was me?” 

“I mean… just… I dunno, my minds been playing tricks on me a bit lately.” Liam tucked a stray lock of hair behind his ear that sprung right out again.

Luca looked apologetic. “Look, I didn’t know that you worked there, I swear. I only started a few weeks ago, and I waved at you a few times but you didn’t respond, so I thought you might think I was stalking you or something.” 

“Stalking me?” 

“Yeah, you know, ‘cause I live in the same apartment block.” 

“But I didn’t know that you lived in the same apartment block.” 

“Yeah, but I do…”

“You do… you do…” Liam trailed off. He felt like he was standing on solid ground for the first time in weeks. 

“So, like, what do you do down here?” Luca was looking around, taking it in.

“Me?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh. Umm, I dunno. Read, sleep.” Liam felt a bit odd about the place now. He wished he’d swept or something. 

“What kind of books do you like?” 

“Oh, umm, anything really. I started off reading biographies of muscicians I liked, but then that kinda grew into…” He crouched down and picked up a few of the scattered books, throwing them all back into the suitcase together. Luca read the titles out loud as he helped – “The Invisible Man, Fear and Loathing…”

“Yeah, I used to work at a record store across the street from an old book store, so I’d go on my lunch breaks.” 

“You used to work at a record store?”

“Yeah... feels like a life time ago now.” 

“Oh, cool. I play the drums!” 

“You play the drums?!”

“Yeah!”

“Oh! That’s you?!”

“Yeah, I live on the third floor.”

“I know, I can hear you from my place!”

They were both smiling now, and Liam could see Luca’s smile was different from his, too. It sort of hung heavy on the left side, where as Liam’s was more front-on. The more he looked at him the more differences he saw. He even felt kind of relaxed around him, like it wasn’t that bad having him here in his space. 

They sat down next to each other on the mattress, silent for a bit while another train passed, jammed with passengers on their morning commute. 

“So, that wasn’t you with the waitress?”

“What?”

“Hm. Nothing.” Liam thought even if it was him, it was none of his business. 

He changed the subject. “Sometimes I imagine up stories about the people on the trains…”

“Oh yeah?” His smile was encouraging. “Like what?”

Fin.