c l o n e s
"We're clones of you two, aren't we?" his tone did not make it a question.
Joan smiled and tried to laugh lightly, but it came out strained, "That‘s silly dears. Lot's of people have a family resemblance. There‘s nothing odd about that. You're just imagining things."
Good cover, I thought and squeezed my wife‘s hand reassuringly.
She shot me a warning glare that read, Don't do anything stupid.
"We present to you Exhibit A," Emo announced, and Alex brought a thick book out from under the table to drop it before us with a dramatic whomp. Joan and I exchanged looks of concerned confusion.
It was a photo album.
"Do you recognize this?" Alex asked.
Joan nodded numbly, "It's your father's and my photo album, the combined pictures from our childhoods."
"Correct," Emo said with a single nod. With one hand he flipped the book open to the first page he had marked with a yellow post-it note. I counted a dozen other yellow tabs throughout the book. Emo stood up and leaned over the table to address us.
"Look familiar?" his fingertip pressed white on the photograph of myself at his age, but he was staring at Joan.
"I…" Joan hesitated and looked to me for guidance.
I just looked at Emo, nodding my head sagely, "I get it."
"So you see it," Emo pressed.
I continued nodding slowly, narrowing my eyes at him, "You've made your point. You look a lot like me at that age. Lots of kids bare a resemblance to their parents. It's called heredity, you—―"
"No Dad," Emo's finger came up and down on the picture and Alex rolled her eyes. "We covered that. Look at the photograph and look at me, you too Joan."
My wife and I leaned over the table to stare at the picture. I had no idea what the boy was talking about. It was probably something in his imagination anyway. The kid was always a little conspiracy prone for his age--.
"I see it," Joan said at last. "Bruce was wearing the same outfit you are now Emo."
-4-
