Twin-Speak

A very short story about what it's like to be an identical twin.

There is something irrevocably different about early life when you have an identical twin. It seemed that many times, there was a disconnect between you and anyone who was not her.

At birth, you were put in incubators because you weighed about five pounds each.

You don’t remember that.

You do remember seeing the bars of a crib between you and her, and feeling it was deeply wrong. She belonged next to you. Much later, your mother told you it was needed because you two kept each other awake. You suspected it was a matter of keeping her awake, but you said nothing.

Your mom also told you that, as babies and toddlers, the two of you spoke your own language to each other, and said precious little to anyone else. She said she could only decipher one word, “foofah,” which meant “dog.”

However, when the family moved over a hundred miles away, and your mom put you both into the new bath the night you arrived, you both objected - at the same time.

“Don’t wanna bath here! Wanna go home for a bath!”

She said she threw up the washcloth and yelled, “Joe! They can talk!”

Of course you could talk. You’d been talking privately with your twin for three years.

In kindergarten, or perhaps first grade, you recall singing “Happy Birthday” with your sister to a classmate, though you apparently sang at the wrong time. The teacher put each of you in separate corners of the room, a clear case of over-reaction on the teacher’s part. You and your twin just looked at each other to register your disapproval, and stood quietly for the few minutes required. You never treated that teacher the same way again.

On the playground, if someone picked on one twin, they found that both reacted. Once, you were drinking water at the fountain, and someone pushed your head down so your face was splashed. By the time you turned around, your twin was there, too, yelling, “You don’t hurt my sister!”

When you were twelve and tripped over a ball, landing on the asphalt street, your twin screamed. You thought you’d just scraped your arm, but when you held it up to brush the gravel off, the arm was obviously very broken. Blood was everywhere, and your parents brought you both to the hospital, where surgery repaired your arm. The surgeon said it might not grow anymore.

It did. You and your sister still looked very much alike, especially because you both broke your front teeth and needed replacements, you’d each broken your dominant arm, and so on. It got to where you hoped the other twin’s health would hold good.

Some days were simply uncomfortable, when you and your twin were separated by many miles, and you’d keep thinking of her until you got a call or a letter that explained what was going on. You were glad to keep in touch.

When, as an adult with your own child, you stayed at your twin’s house while your soon-ex-husband tried a new job, you were equally protected, just like on the playground years before. The husband arrived home late, and you asked if he was okay, afraid he was drunk. He was. He didn’t even reply, but instead hit you once, such a harsh surprise you yelled out. Again, blood seemed to be everywhere. And your twin was there, hitting that man on the shoulders and, with each strike, yelling, “You. Don’t. Hurt. My. Sister!” She was your hero.

You got four stitches by your eye in the emergency room. Your twin sat with your child.

That husband was divorced and soon gone entirely.

You and your twin live closer to each other now. Every few days, you exchange photos of walks you take, flowers you grow, friends and family you see. Sometimes, there’s a theme you follow: “let’s take pics of signs around home” or “do you see any good yard ornaments?”

Recently, she hurt her toe, and you bruised your instep.

But you finally got to visit her in person after the year-long 2020-virus separation.

Life is very good, shared and happy.

Reviews

[Chris Shaw]

Really enjoyed this read. I had childhood friends who were twins. Not identical but very alike. Quite different personalities. They were very close. I have stayed in contact with them for over fifty years. They too had their own communication methods that no one else understood. This story reminded me of how special they are. Thank you for sharing your twin with me.

Chris

[LJ]

You're very welcome, and thanks for sharing your twin friends with me! I like to see you around here; your comments brighten the day. Thanks again.