by Drew VanDyke
Amber yelled back, “And don’t even think about sneaking into my room tonight to try on my clothes. I’ve booby-trapped the closet.”
And with that, the door slammed and my sister and her partner were out for the evening. The dog barked while I tried to do my happy dance. I thought better of it as a twinge of pain reminded me of my wound. So, I just sang.
“I do the hippie-hippie shake…ye-eah…I do the hippie-hippie shake.” And I headed off to see what latest additions Amber had made to her wardrobe. Booby trap, hell. I eat booby traps for breakfast.
“I am so depressed,” I said three hours later from the Berber-carpeted floor of my sister’s humongous walk-in closet. Scratching Spanky behind his ears and calculating the deficiency of my own wardrobe, I realized what having two healthy incomes can do for a woman’s choices. Amber and Elle had racks and racks of top-of-the-line name brands, and even J.R. had designer stuff to work with. “Maybe I should become a lesbian,” I said to the uncomprehending Spanky. “Or at least bisexual, and marry a successful lawyer. They seem to get all the attention, and the swag.”
The little schnauzer cocked his head at me and bumped his nose up for more pronounced attention. He didn’t usually like outsiders, but since we came from the same zygote and he likes my sister, I guess he likes me too. “Huh, Spanky? Should I become a lesbian?” I asked him in my girliest voice, but he only licked my nose and then looked away.
“Ashlee, you would make a terrible lesbian,” Amber said as she breezed by me through her walk-through closet into the master bath. I’d heard her come in, of course, but I was too depressed to move. “You like guys too much.”
“I do, Spanky,” I baby-talked as I rubbed shnozzes with the dog’s cute little muffin nose. “I do like guys too much. It’s horrible. I know. But I just can’t stay away from rock-hard abs and tight butts.”
“You are really disturbing me,” Elle said as she hung up the expensive-looking slick-black-with-pearl-piping power blazer she’d worn that evening and took off the sensible but Amber-influenced brand-name flats she always wore. “Put the dog down and back away slowly.”
“I know! I disturb myself.” I groaned and rolled onto my back on the floor. “Ow. Ow. OW!”
Amber stuck her head out of the bathroom and looked worried.
“Ash? Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. I’m just so pathetic!” I cried as I cradled my wounded hip.
“Hey Amber. I think I’ll let you handle this one.” Elle smirked and headed downstairs for a late-night snack. Women of society never eat much at social functions; hence the voracious appetite afterward.
“Ashlee Scott! You are not pathetic!”
“But I am! I am!” I moaned and curled up into a fetal position while Spanky played leapfrog over my aching ass.
“No. You are not. Mother would roll over in her grave if she heard you talking like that. You are a powerful, wonderful girl.”
“Amber, shush,” I muttered into the dog’s fur. I did not want a visit from my dead mother just at the moment.
Oh, didn’t I tell you? My mother haunts me. Maybe she haunts other people, but as far as I know, only I can see her. I’ve spotted some other ghosts from time to time, but I always shy away and act like I don’t.
This ability has something to do with the lupine gene, I believe. Amber didn’t get it. Only one per zygote. So, I’m the one with the weird menstrual cycle and the need to turn hairy at every full moon. Amber knows nothing, of course, about me or Mom, and I intend to keep it that way.
Sigh.
“What do you know about being pathetic?” I whined, picking up a pair of her Manolo Blahniks and bringing them to my nose to inhale. I was in heaven. They still smelled new.
“Because you and I are two peas from one pod and I am NOT pathetic. So, ergo, neither are you.”
“Oh, well then. That clears everything up!” I had to laugh. Amber grinned right back at me.
“I love you, you know,” I said, and right then I really meant it.
“I know.” She did a quick kiss-kiss to the air as she went back into the bathroom to undress. “I am lovable, after all.”
I think my sister got all the cute genes in the family. I know I didn’t come off half as adorable as she did, even when I was trying, which wasn’t often. Where Amber was like Pink Chandon, I was more like any hard drink you had to muddle sugar into to offset the bitters: an acquired taste.
I crawled on my hands and knees back to my bedroom as the dog followed behind me, playfully nipping at my heels. Time to take a pain pill and sleep off the looming depression. Maybe tomorrow would be a better day, I thought. I hoped. I prayed.
I was asleep before my head hit the pillow.
Chapter 4
“Hey Amber!” I called as my sister finally made an appearance at nine in the morning. “I just got the weirdest email!” I continued as she stepped blearily to the door of the den. “Look at this!” I swiveled the screen at her and let her read.
“Who said you could use my laptop?” she said.
I gave her a shit-eating bear grin.“Grrr?”
“Yeah, grrr.” She looked and read.
TO WHOM IT MAY CONCERN:
IT HAS COME TO MY ATTENTION THAT YOU MAY NOT BE AWARE BUT THAT YOU HAVE BEEN TARGETED AND I HAVE BEEN COMPELLED TO HELP TERMINATE YOU. I TELL YOU THIS BECAUSE I DO NOT BELIEVE THE ACCUSATIONS THAT MY EMPLOYER HAS LEVELED ABOUT YOU AND FEEL THAT YOU SHOULD KNOW SO AS THIS DOES NOT HAPPEN VERY OFTEN, IN FACT NEVER, AS I AM A PROFESSIONAL, BUT I TRUST YOU AND WANT TO HELP YOU.
SINCERELY,
A FRIEND
The sender’s address was nothing but a bunch of characters. It must be some kind of anonymous email server.
“What the fudge?” came the words from my sister’s usually righteous mouth.
“That’s kinda what I said, but with a c and a k.” I stared at her.
“This can’t be serious.” Amber looked more like me when she wasn’t all dolled up. She the lipstick lesbian and I the tomboy, go figure, but sans makeup, two peas and all that.
“That’s what I said. And God, what a hack. J.R. could write better copy.”
“You get a possibly threatening email and you’re critiquing the sender’s writing skills?”
“I’ve gotten threatening emails before,” I said with an offhandedness I did not feel, “but usually they have something to do with an article I wrote.”
We looked at each other with a slight tension in our eyes.
“Hey Elle!” Amber yelled at the top of her lungs. Before we knew it, Elle was at the door with a baseball bat, looking thoroughly disheveled.
“WHAT? What’s the matter? What?” Elle brandished the bat like she was trying out for the San Francisco Giants, shook the morning sleep from her eyes and blinked at us uncomprehendingly.
Amber handed Elle some reading glasses, one of the many sets she had lying around the house. “Look at this email.” She swung the laptop around some more. “Ashlee just got this and I don’t know what to make of it.”
Elle read quickly, mouthing the words. When she got to the word “terminate,” she looked up at me and her eyes got wide.
“DUCK!” she screamed, and we all did as I heard the sound of breaking glass over my shoulder and caught it on the chin as a baseball sailed into the room.
The sound of quick footsteps padding up the walk and J.R.’s voice were the next things I remember as Amber shook me where I lay.
“Is everyone okay? Why is Aunt Ash on the floor?” J.R. asked.
“Ashlee! Wake up!” My sister’s voice now.
“Am I dead?” I murmured. At least, I thought it was me as I struggled back to consciousness with the dog licking my face.
“Spanky, knock it off.” I pushed him away, but he came right back, thinking we were playing some new kind of game.
“Spanky! Go lie down,” my sister ordered, and when my sister used that tone, you knew you were in trouble. The dog slunk out the door and collapsed on th
e tile, laying his head on his forepaws and giving us that “what did I do?” look. “Be careful, J.R., there’s glass all over.”
“Gee, Mom. I’m sorry. I didn’t think I could hit the thing that hard. I wasn’t even trying.” J.R. apologized profusely from the doorway of the den. My ex-brother-in-law Mervin, and I emphasize the X, as in crossed out, no thanks, buh-bye, stood behind my nephew smirking as his face wandered into focus.
“Damn, Mervin. Next time you want to take out the ex, why don’t you make sure you’re aiming on the right twin sister.” Amber sponged me toward consciousness with a cool cloth. “And you can stop that now! I’m up! I’m up!” I growled. Just had to get my knees under me as I rose from the carpet.
“Better put something on that,” Mervin joked. “Or you’re gonna have rug-burn all over the side of your face.”
I snarled, “You oughta know. Doesn’t your new girlfriend like to drive?” Let him figure it out. “Amber, can you please get your smarmy sperm donor out of my sight?”
“Mervin. You’re not helping,” my sister carped as she pushed his sorry ass toward the door. “And you’re paying for half the repair.”
“Well. Ex-cuse me,” he called and headed out. “Take it easy, champ. You played a good game today.”
“Thanks, Dad!” J.R. called and waved goodbye. He turned back to me with a cute little pout and said, “I’m really sorry, Aunt Ash.”
“I know you are, sport.” I gritted my teeth, smiled and waved him off to clean up in his room. Then I turned to my sister.
“I really hate that guy.”
“Don’t you say that about my son!” she said with a grin.
“I wasn’t talking about – never mind.” I hobbled back into the chef’s grade kitchen.
“You know Mervin has always been a fan of yours,” Amber continued. “I have no idea why, but he likes you.”
“That’s just ’cause I’ve got all the looks of the woman he married but I don’t hate him as much as you do so he thinks he might get some from me sometime. And I don’t like him like I used to, before I wised up. That’s bound to make him a little insane.”
“Wow. You know, I’d forgotten you liked him back then. Maybe we should have swapped places when I was married instead of getting divorced. Then we would have both got what we wanted. He would have never known the difference.”
“Yeah. Right.” I laughed ruefully. “Like substituting a sow’s ear for a silk purse.”
Amber and I used to do a lot of self-swapping in high school, mostly just for grins, but every now and then, when one of us wanted to go out with a guy who asked, but the one he asked didn’t, we’d trade without him knowing.
After the first full moon of my sixteenth year, we didn’t play that game anymore. Amber still felt guilty it hadn’t been her on that fateful date, like it should’ve been. I was just thankful that if somebody had to die, it wasn’t me.
I’m sorry. Maybe being a wolf has made me callous, and Shane was an omega anyway.
Tell you about it later, I promise.
“I’m serious, Ash. I think we need to report this email to the police.”
“Elle is the police,” I said as I grabbed ice cubes from the freezer and stuck them in a plastic bag. A few pieces ended up on the floor. My sister glanced over at me, wondering if I was going to take care of it. I’d get to it, but if it wasn’t soon enough, I knew she’d be pissed off. She was already frowning at the floor where the ice was melting.
“Oh, for Pete’s sake, Amber! I’ll get it!” I said and took a moment to wipe the puddle of water off the floor. Then I stuck the ice-filled bag to my head. Sometimes I hated being a twin.
“And she’s right. I am the police.” Elle kissed her on the cheek as she went past.
“You used to be the police. But then you took a job with the city,” Amber reminded her, all syrupy-like.
“So, maybe I’m out of practice, but I’m still the city attorney. That’s gotta count for something.” She cocked her head and winked at me. “I’ve got connections. And a gun.”
“Yeah! That’s gotta count for something,” I echoed and stage-winked right back at her.
Elle was very much a cards-to-the-chest kind of gal, but she could be real amusing when she let her sense of humor show. Amber, on the other hand, had a tendency toward taking things way too seriously.
“Still.” Amber sniffed at us. She hates any ganging up, unless she does the ganging.
“Still.” Elle drew my sister out and did a quick waltz with her around the room.
“Still,” she re-echoed, “I think if it happens again, we need to report it.”
“I’ll report it right now, if that makes you feel better,” Elle said. Then she started getting handsy with Amber.
“Um, guys? Can you just…take it somewhere else?” I asked, ever so humbly.
They stopped and looked condescendingly at me.
“What? You homophobic or something?” Elle pulled my sister into a twirl and then dipped her.
“No,” I said. Then under my breath as I walked away, “Just envious.”
It was true. Total sister-envy, ’cause she had the life. She had the house. She had the child, whom I adored, and the dog that I liked as well. And she had the tall, dark, and handsome S.O., only not so tall and handsome as I imagined, the kind I wished I could come home to each night.
Let’s face it, she had it all. And what did I have? A lot of frequent flyer miles, fab trips, upgraded hotel rooms, and free spa treatments.
Okay, maybe I didn’t have it so bad.
Chapter 5
It was day three and I was totally bored. No really! Abso-bloomin-lutely out of my freakin’ gourd. And I said so as I perched on one butt cheek on top of the dryer watching my twin fold laundry.
“Move your legs. You’re in the way,” Amber said.
I scooted over to give her access, wincing.
“You know, when J.R. tells me he's bored, I usually send him out to play,” Amber said, matching pink socks and folding polka-dot underwear.
“Are you crazy? Don’t you know? Suburban neighborhoods are incredibly dangerous!” I made a face at her, only semi-mock-horrified.
“Ashlee, this is Knightsbridge, not Oakland. And J.R.’s a smart kid. Besides, he knows not to go far, and we have a Neighborhood Watch program.”
“Yeah, after that email, it’s the neighbors I’m going to be watching,” I ran my hand along the dust-free blinds and peeked out the window of the laundry room, squinting into the morning light. See, I thought: even the dust knows not to mess with Amber.
“Go walk around the neighborhood. Play Auntie Security. The fresh air will do you good.” She looked at me, chagrined. “Oh my God! I sounded just like Mom.”
“Yes you did.”
“Did someone call me?”
I blanched when I heard my mother’s voice coming from the heavens. “Not exactly,” I muttered.
“What?” Amber asked, uncertain.
“I think I’ll go take that walk.” I hopped to the floor, much to my butt cheek’s dismay. Then I hobbled downstairs and out the front door.
“Leave the door unlocked. I don’t have a key!” I called out behind me, and then wondered if I should have yelled so loud. I mean, Amber and Elle lived in a fairly safe neighborhood, but in places like this, there were always older kids and crimes of opportunity.
“On second thought, I’ll take the spare!” I yelled, and grabbed it out of its hidey-hole, sticking it in my shoulder bag.
“Good idea,” my sister called back, as I locked the door behind me and turned to greet the day.
Ugh, I thought. It’s much too bright out here. What the hell is that hot thing doing up in the sky at nine a.m.?
I grabbed the Donna Karan sunglasses I’d nicked from Amber out of my bag and took a big inhale of the grassy-sweet smell of cow manure. I could still feel the residue of my dead mother’s presence and I hurried away, keen to escape from the force of nature that is her spirit. Gho
sts naturally retain more power when they are near a symbiotic frequency of shared experiences, an exorcist once told me.
Are you wondering why I was talking to an exorcist? Um…
When people get together, shared desires often manifest visitations from the other side. Put enough people’s concentration on one thing and a thought can achieve critical mass; hence the number of Elvis sightings, no doubt.
Amber and Elle lived in a burb-district on the edge of Knightsbridge proper. Directly behind their house, placed at the east end of the development, rose steep hills and a deep cut that led up into Knightsbridge Canyon. To the north and south sides of their subdivision were open acres where the valley began a gentle rolling into a land of almond orchards, horse stables and dairy farms. When we were younger, we actually got milk from one of those dairies, but not anymore. It was cheaper to buy from the grocery store, and safer, so they said.
I liked it better back then. Waah.
With determination in hand and a fresh pack of slim clove cigars – I didn’t want Amber to know that I still smoked sometimes, but hey, it was better than tobacco – I headed down the road toward an in-town walking trail. With the pain in my ass, I wasn't ready for any serious hiking.
The path near my sister’s home was paved, and it bordered the rows upon rows of similarly styled homes with precisely varied color schemes that housed the upwardly mobile middle class of Knightsbridge’s finest. I wondered just how similar and precisely varied the lives of those who lived in them were as I stretched my legs. I stripped off the extra sweater I’d woken up with this morning, leaving myself braless in a tank top and sweats, and I seriously hoped that I didn’t run into anyone I knew since I hadn’t shaved my pits in a few days.
In contrast to my home in San Francisco where fog was typical, I aimed to soak up the dry San Joaquin sun as I made the rounds. There weren’t many people out as it was a bit winter-nippy, but not so bad that you could see your breath, maybe fifty. I continued around the corner away from the house. Before I knew it I’d reached a large park with four baseball diamonds and decided that this was about as good a time as any to light up.