Leon And Byron

A Story by Sydorax_Squid

Leon and Byron are twins, hatched from the same egg. Mama wants them to try and be apart, but that is inconceivable for the twins.

Leon and Byron, hatched together from a single egg, were inseparable. One was never seen without the other. They were linked in a way that was unlike even the closest of natural-born twins. It was like they shared a soul. Luckily, the brothers got a job together in town, at the local Mortuary. A very clever thing, they had done. The Mortuary was the perfect place for them. They could collect and save as much blood as their Family could ever need. The town was big enough to have a death every few days, at least. They never ran aground with work, but they never faltered to provide, either.
It was around midday when Mrs Watts came in to their care. Mr Beanuit told them to pay her extra mind, she was “a pillar of the community” so they best make her look excellent.
Leon and Byron smiled, as they always did.
Unfortunately, in the midst of their work, their little brother Sammy came into the Mortuary. They could hear him in the lobby, making a fool of himself. The brothers both rolled their eyes. Sammy was at that age, after all. The rebellious phase had begun in him, as it did in all children.
Mr Beanuit led Sammy and his little friend into the stark white room, filled with glistening gray tables and tools of their delightfully gruesome trade. Leon saw him first, set down the limp once-pink object in his hand while Byron set down his sharp utensils.
Sammy delivered to them a message from Mama, along with a list of demands that she no doubt had intended for Samson to gather for the Family. At the bottom of the list was scrawled in dark graphite the words “Lemon-sinted coffin polish” and “Choclets for Sarah”, though the second was smudged off.
“You spelled ‘scented’ and ‘chocolates’ wrong,” Leon commented dully as Byron pocketed the list.
“Whatever,” Sammy said before turning on his heel and walking out, his little friend with the patchy clothing walking ahead, though she kept her hand firmly in his.
Leon and Byron exchanged looks.
Sammy was growing up!
Byron wondered what sort of children they would have, would they be winged? Or would they be more like the little girl? Normal and boring? It was an interesting thought, to say the least.
“I certainly hope they take after her,” Leon commented, picking up where he left off in Mrs Watts. “At least they’ll be handsome.”
Byron laughed silently, also resuming his work, the long, shining gray scalpel and locking clamps glinted in the stark white overhead light.
It was a few hours before Mrs Watts was done. The brothers were efficient in their work, which was a quality that Mr Beanuit admired. That, and the boys always insisted on handling the disposal of wastes. It wasn’t good to flush all that blood down a drain, they said. Bad for the pipes or some such thing. They had a letter from a waste management professional, so Mr Beanuit trusted them with it.
Leon and Byron went out to get the items on the list after loading up four barrels into the back of their truck. They kept their supply at the Mortuary, telling Mr Beanuit that the trip to the waste disposal center was a long one that they preferred to take only once a month. They also borrowed a bottle of the lemon-scented coffin polish from Frank’s hoard, giving him a bottle of brandy in exchange. Frank was well-known for his love of fancy booze.
They went to Dale’s and Gaylord’s places, which were a bit out of the way but Mama wanted these things, after all.
“What do you suppose Mama wants with thirty clear empty bottles and fourteen bags of grass seed?” Leon asked. Byron didn’t know. But Byron wasn’t one for knowing things. He did know how to drive the car, which he did very well. But he wasn’t really interested in knowing things. He let Leon be the knower.
Leon, for his part, sat beside his brother, musing and wondering. He stared out the windshield with eyes not his own, felt the breeze on skin he did not wear, listened to the hum of the engine with ears that did not sit on his head.
They drove and drove and drove on home, the 30 or so miles to the House On The Hill where their Family had lived for, oh, 200 years now. Give or take a decade, the brothers weren’t sure. They parked out in front of the door, hurrying inside, a barrel under each arm.
“Leon, Byron!” Mama exclaimed happily, poking her head out from the study at the sound of the wind billowing into the old house. The triplets came bounding out, running through the open door into the front yard. They barked and howled as they scampered all around the grassy hills, relishing in the freedom and heat of the afternoon sun.
“We brought the blood, Mama,” Leon informed her, hefting the barrels in his arms. Mama glided gracefully to the refrigerator-pantry, opening the heavy door for them. The brothers dropped off their payload with heavy thunks, disturbing their sleeping father. He did not rise from his coffin, though he was certainly going to have a word with them when the sun went down.
“My two little worker bees,” Mama cooed lovingly, kissing first Byron then Leon on the head. She always did that, even though she knew only one kiss was ever felt between them. The brothers went out and got the cases of bottles and grass seed, staying together despite the different locations their goods were meant to find. Leon left the glass bottles on the long pepper-wood table before following Byron out to the shed to deposit the bags of seed.
Edie was out in the shed, which surprised them. She seemed flustered, as though they had caught her in the act of some terribly embarrassing failure.
“Hi, Edie,” Leon said, Byron tilting his head. “What’re you doing out in the shed?”
“Nothing,” Edie said quickly, grabbing a bag and something small and brown from the floor. She rushed past them, fleeing, her slender legs bounding across the uneven terrain without effort. The brothers shrugged. She was approaching the age of rebellion as well. Perhaps she was keeping a blood pet? That wouldn’t surprise them, the boys themselves had one when they were younger. It seemed to be a phase, at least in their branch of the Family.
With everything delivered, the brothers went back inside the brightly-lit house.
“Boys,” Mama said, stopping them. “Have you seen Samson?”
“Earlier,” Leon said. “When he gave us your message. Does Dad want this polish now or later?”
“Put it in the cabinet, under the sink,” Mama said, watching as Byron went to fulfill her request. Leon fidgeted, feeling incomplete without his brother beside him. He felt as though he wasn’t where he was, in front of Mama. He felt as though he was both by Mama, but his body was by the sink, putting coffin polish by disinfectant spray. He couldn’t see Mama, standing right before him. He couldn’t hear her breathing, feel her touch. Leon wondered where Byron was.
“Darling, are you alright?” Mama asked, touching Leon’s face. Leon knew she had touched him, he saw it. He watched her moving from behind, her thick brown hair tumbled down her back to the floor, swaying and flowing with every tiny movement she made. Byron felt his brother’s panic. He stopped staring and ran the short distance back to Leon’s side. With a gasping breath, Leon sighed as Byron returned, his sight and touch and hearing were back.
“Leon, Byron, how far apart can you too be?” Mama asked them. The brother’s hands interlocked reflexively. “Is it getting worse?”
“It’s not a problem, Mama,” Leon told her. “It’s how we are.”
“It’s not safe. What if you two get separated? You need to know how to cope when apart.”
Byron’s brow furrowed, wordlessly arguing that they’d never be apart.
“You can’t predict the future, Byron. You must learn to exist apart. I’m not asking for you to live separate forever, I’m only asking you take the precautions in the event of something terrible. What if you were to fall ill, Byron? What would Leon do then?”
The brothers looked down at Byron’s feet. As much as they hated it, Mama had a point. She was so very wise, their mother. And they hated that she was right.
“We’ll work on it later, after Uncle Tim and Aunt Hilda leave.”
“Okay, darlings,” Mama said, smiling warmly. She gave them both a kiss again, despite it only being felt once. “Go rouse Sarah, tell her to find Samson. He’s too far away from me, can’t hear my call.”
“Sure, Mama,” the boys acknowledged, walking together up the stairs to Sarah’s bedroom. They felt a growing unease in their stomachs, an anxiety about the future and their places in it. Two bodies, two minds, one voice and one set of senses shared between them.

END.