Blood Brothers
Chapter 4
I wasn’t entirely certain how much time passed until our next meeting…a month, perhaps. Strange as it may sound, I had begun to forget about the story of these twin brothers and focus more on my own life. I didn’t feel the least bit selfish; I was getting behind on my work and on paying my bills, something that couldn’t last too long if I planned to continue living in my current state.
As opposed to our usual greeting of either a short glance or a chance meeting on the street, this time she found me.
I had just gotten done collecting the finished work from the two main editors and was about to mail the papers back to their original owners. Several of them I had read before; a few I had even glanced through, casually looking for mistakes. Personally, I believed the editors were too harsh, but it was necessary at times.
I jogged down the stairs with a half-smile on my face, knowing I had caught up on most of my work and would likely finish doing so before I went home. That’s when I saw her.
“Young man, I need to speak to you,” she said in a firm tone. At first I felt afraid. Had I inadvertently revealed part of her secret to someone, causing her to find out? Before I could assure myself of a negative answer to that question, I noticed how pale she looked. Unhealthily so, and more than usual.
“I-”
“I know you know,” she said abruptly, cutting me off. “I just need you to swear you won’t tell anyone.”
“…Of course I wouldn’t,” I managed to say, holding back a relieved sigh. She nodded.
“I’m kind of glad you know, actually,” she whispered. I set my armful of envelopes on the counter and listened intently to her words. “It means there’s no risk involved when I talk to you about it.”
“I’d never tell anyone,” I assured her. I frowned. “But…something else seems wrong.” She sighed.
“I was fired,” she muttered, her mouth forming the already-familiar words easily. “Mrs. Iero said the quality of my work had declined…but my work’s the same as it’s always been. I think it’s because I was spending too much time around the baby. They named him Frank,” she added with a small smile. “It fits him well.”
“So what are you going to do?” I asked softly. I could hardly believe what Mrs. Iero had done. She had no right!
“Get a new job, I suppose,” she said miserably. “Though I won’t have to for a while. She gave me this.” She removed an envelope from her pocket as she spoke and handed it to me. I opened it carefully- only to see five 100-dollar bills placed neatly inside.
“I guess it’s good that she gave this to y-”
“No! It’s anything but good!” she cried, interrupting me. Taking a deep breath, she continued speaking in a quieter tone. “I wanted to tell someone…the police, maybe…but I couldn’t. I can’t.”
“What are you talking about?” I asked, bewildered.
“She told me I couldn’t say anything to anyone. She said I sold my baby to her and that I would be put in jail.”
“That’s impossible,” I said in disbelief. She held up a hand to silence me, so I allowed her to continue.
“I couldn’t take him with me, either. I’d be accused of kidnapping…and no one would believe me, anyway. I’m the poorest woman in the city. Besides, you know what they say about twins secretly parted, don’t you?”
“…What?” I asked blankly.
“Mrs. Iero told me about it. They say…they say that if either twin learns that he was one of a pair, they will both immediately die. It means they’ll have to grow up unaware of each other, and never be told what is- what was once the truth,” she corrected herself. “I can’t tell anyone about this, because if I do…I’ll kill them.”
“Sounds like a superstition to me,” I said thoughtfully, frowning. She shook her head.
“I won’t take that risk. If I had to bury one of my children, I don’t know what I’d do.”
“I’m sure that won’t happen,” I said. I wasn’t nearly as certain as I sounded, and I knew I hadn’t convinced her, but she smiled anyway.
“Thank you, young man. That’s all I needed to know. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a family to take care of.” With a single nod, she walked away. I sighed heavily, wondering what mess I’d gotten myself into.
The trek home seemed longer that day. Maybe I was walking slower; I wasn’t sure. My mind was elsewhere. When I finally did get there, I didn’t immediately sit down and write as I had in days past. It seemed too draining. I hadn’t actually written anything of my own in…almost two weeks. This thought startled me. If there was one thing I’d learned, it was that editors constantly had to be writing and reading to keep their skills up to date. If I couldn’t do that, I would never become one of them.
Somewhat grudgingly, I grabbed a piece of paper from nearby and stared at it blankly. The page itself was actually not blank; I had attempted to write on it before, but those short little snippets of stories and poems had amounted to nothing in the long run. I racked my brain for something, anything,that would help break through my hopefully temporary writer’s block.
The answer came to me in a rush of realization. Soon I found myself writing, but it wasn’t fast enough to keep up with my brain. I considered it a good problem to have.
Shoes upon the table,
And a spider’s been killed.
Someone broke the looking glass.
There’s a full moon shining,
And the salt’s been spilled.
You’re walking on the pavement cracks.
Don’t know what’s gonna come to pass.
Now you know the devil’s got your number.
You know he’s gonna find you.
You know he’s right behind you.
He’s staring through your windows.
He’s creeping down the hall.
There’s no point in clutching at your rosary,
You’re always gonna know what was done.
Even when you shut your eyes you still see-
The next bit was difficult for me to write, but I pressed on. I simply hoped no one would ever find it.
That you sold a son,
And you can’t tell anyone.
Now you know the devil’s got your number.
You know he’s gonna find you.
You know he’s right behind you.
He’s standing on your step and he’s knocking at your door.
He’s knocking at your door…
He’s knocking at your door…
As opposed to our usual greeting of either a short glance or a chance meeting on the street, this time she found me.
I had just gotten done collecting the finished work from the two main editors and was about to mail the papers back to their original owners. Several of them I had read before; a few I had even glanced through, casually looking for mistakes. Personally, I believed the editors were too harsh, but it was necessary at times.
I jogged down the stairs with a half-smile on my face, knowing I had caught up on most of my work and would likely finish doing so before I went home. That’s when I saw her.
“Young man, I need to speak to you,” she said in a firm tone. At first I felt afraid. Had I inadvertently revealed part of her secret to someone, causing her to find out? Before I could assure myself of a negative answer to that question, I noticed how pale she looked. Unhealthily so, and more than usual.
“I-”
“I know you know,” she said abruptly, cutting me off. “I just need you to swear you won’t tell anyone.”
“…Of course I wouldn’t,” I managed to say, holding back a relieved sigh. She nodded.
“I’m kind of glad you know, actually,” she whispered. I set my armful of envelopes on the counter and listened intently to her words. “It means there’s no risk involved when I talk to you about it.”
“I’d never tell anyone,” I assured her. I frowned. “But…something else seems wrong.” She sighed.
“I was fired,” she muttered, her mouth forming the already-familiar words easily. “Mrs. Iero said the quality of my work had declined…but my work’s the same as it’s always been. I think it’s because I was spending too much time around the baby. They named him Frank,” she added with a small smile. “It fits him well.”
“So what are you going to do?” I asked softly. I could hardly believe what Mrs. Iero had done. She had no right!
“Get a new job, I suppose,” she said miserably. “Though I won’t have to for a while. She gave me this.” She removed an envelope from her pocket as she spoke and handed it to me. I opened it carefully- only to see five 100-dollar bills placed neatly inside.
“I guess it’s good that she gave this to y-”
“No! It’s anything but good!” she cried, interrupting me. Taking a deep breath, she continued speaking in a quieter tone. “I wanted to tell someone…the police, maybe…but I couldn’t. I can’t.”
“What are you talking about?” I asked, bewildered.
“She told me I couldn’t say anything to anyone. She said I sold my baby to her and that I would be put in jail.”
“That’s impossible,” I said in disbelief. She held up a hand to silence me, so I allowed her to continue.
“I couldn’t take him with me, either. I’d be accused of kidnapping…and no one would believe me, anyway. I’m the poorest woman in the city. Besides, you know what they say about twins secretly parted, don’t you?”
“…What?” I asked blankly.
“Mrs. Iero told me about it. They say…they say that if either twin learns that he was one of a pair, they will both immediately die. It means they’ll have to grow up unaware of each other, and never be told what is- what was once the truth,” she corrected herself. “I can’t tell anyone about this, because if I do…I’ll kill them.”
“Sounds like a superstition to me,” I said thoughtfully, frowning. She shook her head.
“I won’t take that risk. If I had to bury one of my children, I don’t know what I’d do.”
“I’m sure that won’t happen,” I said. I wasn’t nearly as certain as I sounded, and I knew I hadn’t convinced her, but she smiled anyway.
“Thank you, young man. That’s all I needed to know. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a family to take care of.” With a single nod, she walked away. I sighed heavily, wondering what mess I’d gotten myself into.
The trek home seemed longer that day. Maybe I was walking slower; I wasn’t sure. My mind was elsewhere. When I finally did get there, I didn’t immediately sit down and write as I had in days past. It seemed too draining. I hadn’t actually written anything of my own in…almost two weeks. This thought startled me. If there was one thing I’d learned, it was that editors constantly had to be writing and reading to keep their skills up to date. If I couldn’t do that, I would never become one of them.
Somewhat grudgingly, I grabbed a piece of paper from nearby and stared at it blankly. The page itself was actually not blank; I had attempted to write on it before, but those short little snippets of stories and poems had amounted to nothing in the long run. I racked my brain for something, anything,that would help break through my hopefully temporary writer’s block.
The answer came to me in a rush of realization. Soon I found myself writing, but it wasn’t fast enough to keep up with my brain. I considered it a good problem to have.
Shoes upon the table,
And a spider’s been killed.
Someone broke the looking glass.
There’s a full moon shining,
And the salt’s been spilled.
You’re walking on the pavement cracks.
Don’t know what’s gonna come to pass.
Now you know the devil’s got your number.
You know he’s gonna find you.
You know he’s right behind you.
He’s staring through your windows.
He’s creeping down the hall.
There’s no point in clutching at your rosary,
You’re always gonna know what was done.
Even when you shut your eyes you still see-
The next bit was difficult for me to write, but I pressed on. I simply hoped no one would ever find it.
That you sold a son,
And you can’t tell anyone.
Now you know the devil’s got your number.
You know he’s gonna find you.
You know he’s right behind you.
He’s standing on your step and he’s knocking at your door.
He’s knocking at your door…
He’s knocking at your door…