Born Together, Bound for Different Shores

Back home, custom held that twins had to have a big celebration on their tenth birthday, or they wouldn't make it safely to adulthood.

But on that tenth birthday, I called my mother.

The phone rang and rang before she finally picked up, irritation heavy in her voice.

Clara, it's Vera Winfield's tenth birthday today. You know how important this birthday is for her!

"You just had to call and interrupt her celebration right now?"

"We told you we'd come see you when we had time. Do you have to keep snatching everything away from Vera?"

My brother cut in, just as annoyed.

"Clara, can you not be so jealous all the time?"

"Vera's about to cut the cake. Whatever it is, can't it wait?"

He gave me no chance to speak and hung up.

I called my father then, but the line was dead every time.

I wanted to tell them I wasn't asking for a birthday of my own. I wanted to tell them Grandma Winfield had died.

1.

By the time they rushed back, Grandma had already been buried.

And they came back carrying nothing but anger.

My father slapped me across the face.

"Clara Winfield, your grandmother died and you dared to keep it from me?"

Great-Uncle Abbott stepped forward and blocked him.

"Carl Winfield, what do you think you're doing?"

My mother looked at me, her face full of disappointment too.

"Great-Uncle, don't stop him. Clara has no heart in her."

"Mom raised her all these years, and she didn't even tell us when Mom passed."

"She's only ten and already deciding everything on her own. When she grows up she'll be capable of murder and arson!"

Great-Uncle's face went dark.

He slapped my father across the face.

"You worthless fool!"

The blow left my father stunned.

"Great-Uncle, why are you hitting me?"

"I'm hitting you, that's why. How many times did Clara call the two of you?"

"And what did you say to her?"

My mother's face faltered, her certainty starting to crack.

"She could easily have told us something had happened to Grandma. She chose to say it right in the middle of Vera's birthday celebration!"

"Great-Uncle, you know the custom back home. The tenth birthday has to be celebrated in a big way!"

"Otherwise the child dies young. Vera's been frail since she was little. We couldn't rest easy without a proper celebration!"

My brother shot me a resentful glare.

"Clara, however jealous you are of Vera, you don't joke about something as serious as Grandma!"

Vera's eyes went red at the rims.

"Clara, even if you were upset that Mom and Dad were throwing me a birthday, you can't just hide the news that Grandma died!"

The murmurs around me were nearly enough to drown me.

"So young, and already hiding her grandmother's death out of jealousy."

"What'll she be like when she's grown?"

From the day I was born, the thing I heard most was this.

"You're healthy because you stole Vera's nutrition in the womb."

"Remember that. You owe Vera for it."

Now there was one more.

"Deep and scheming, jealous of her own sister."

I wasn't even a year old when my parents sent me back to the old hometown to live with Grandma.

When I was three, my parents brought my brother and Vera back home for the first time.

I stood there staring at my well-dressed parents, my tall, sturdy brother, and pink, delicate little Vera.

When my mother held out her hand to me, I flinched back on instinct.

Her face went cold at once.

"Why are you so timid and small-minded?"

"Come here, Vera, say hello to Mommy."

Vera skipped over and threw herself into our mother's arms, chirping sweetly.

"Mommy, I love you."

My mother slid a glance at me. "Clara, it really isn't that I don't like you."

"Look how adorable your sister is, and then look at you..."

I looked down at myself, at the old clothes Vera had cast off, the shoes a size too big, the small chapped hands.

I dropped my head, not knowing what to do with myself.

We were twins, and yet I was half a head shorter than she was.

But even then I envied Vera, who got to be loved by our parents and cherished by our brother.

I longed to be back at my father's side. I longed for them to take me home.

Every time I saw them after that, I got pulled out and measured against Vera all over again.

"Her skin isn't as fair as Vera's!"

"She isn't as tall as Vera either!"

"She doesn't do as well in school as Vera!"

But Vera took a fancy to the little beanbag Grandma had made for me.

Vera took a fancy to the tiger doll Grandma had made for me.

...

Over and over, they taught me the same thing.

"Clara, give it to your sister."

"Clara, you're the older one, you should let your sister have it!"

After that, I never again longed for them to take me back to the city.

But Grandma was gone, and there was no one left to care for me, so they had no choice but to bring me back to the city.

My tenth birthday came to an end, folded into my parents' sense of duty and into Grandma's funeral.

There were four rooms in the house. One for my parents, one for my brother, one for Vera.

And one for Vera's toys.

Vera didn't want to share a room with me, and she wouldn't throw out any of her toys.

"Mom, Dad, my sister smells."

My parents looked at me, at a loss.

"Clara, there really isn't any space in the house. You should board at school."

"It's quiet there. Better for your studies too."

My brother chimed in.

"It works out. You grew up in the countryside, so you're behind. Boarding gives you more time to study."

"Two birds, one stone."

Vera and I were in the same class.

The other kids looked at how thin and small I was.

"Vera, is Clara really your sister?"

"You look taller than she does!"

Vera always just smiled and said nothing.

Every day after school, my parents picked her up and took her home. Even when their eyes landed on me, all I got was a flat reminder.

"Clara, don't cause trouble at school, and listen to your teachers."

So I boarded, and I ate in the school cafeteria. But my parents always forgot to pay my meal fees.

Until I fainted from hunger in class and was taken to the hospital, where the exam came back as severe malnutrition.

The teacher hinted, gently, that they were all their own children, and they shouldn't only pay attention to one.

My parents brought me home.

The moment I stepped through the door, my mother smashed a cup, her eyes red.

Her voice was full of wounded grievance.

"Clara!"

"Tell me, what have we ever done to wrong you, that you'd go around telling people we mistreat you?"

"You won't be happy until you've shamed us, will you?"

"You're just like your grandmother. You can't stand seeing us be good to Vera!"

While Grandma was alive, she'd once had a huge fight with my parents over the way they ignored me.

After that, my mother didn't want to see me, and she didn't want to see Grandma either.

Vera cried too.

"My sister told people at school that I bully her at home"

At school I always kept to myself. I had nothing to wear but one set of the uniform.

The other kids whispered that I was the family's punching bag.

When Vera found out, she shoved me flat on my back, and got a scolding from the teacher for it.

My father held Vera in his arms, his face gone cold.

"Clara, we always thought that even if you never grew up by our side, at least you'd know to be grateful."

"But instead you ruin Vera's name, and on top of that you want to make your mother and me too ashamed to face anyone!"

My brother added, "Clara, imagine if you put all this scheming against your own family into your studies instead."

No comfort, no concern. Only blame.

I lowered my head in silence.

I used to defend myself, once. They always said the same thing, unhappy with me.

"Clara, can't you just be honest? When you're wrong, admit it. Why do you always have to argue your way out?"

From that day on, all the way through college, I studied as hard as I could, working for one thing only: to leave this family.

The day I got my fully funded overseas graduate scholarship, I went home.

The house was full of laughter.

It stopped dead the moment I walked in.

"Clara, why are you back?"

My brother frowned too.

"Why didn't you say anything before coming home?"

That last thread of hope inside me snapped.

Still, I couldn't stop the question.

"So what you're saying is, I can't even come back to my own home?"

"There isn't even a room for me in this house. Am I just an outsider?"

Something awkward flickered over my father's face.

My brother opened his mouth, then shut it again.

My mother's expression tightened. "You child. So you came back, fine, but the second you're through the door you're blowing up like you swallowed dynamite. What are you so angry about?"

"Come look. Your sister got hired by Winfield Group right out of school!"

"Oh, right, that thing you mentioned last time about the scholarship for grad school. How did that turn out?"

"I already got the acceptance letter. I leave on the third of next month."

"Oh."

Nobody picked it up.

My father looked at Vera, all fond warmth. "Our little one. Yesterday she was still just a kid, and today she's got a job."

Vera's eyes crinkled up with a smile.

"Dad, you promised me. Once I started working, you'd give me three thousand a month."

His smile stayed gentle.

"When has your dad ever gone back on his word?"

I gripped the acceptance letter inside my bag.

In college Vera got five thousand a month for living expenses, and even then my mother slipped her extra on the side.

"Raise sons on less, raise daughters on more. My Vera was brought up pampered. She can never let herself go without."

When I started college and asked my parents how much they'd give me each month for expenses.

They both looked put out.

"Clara, there are three kids in this family. You know what our situation is. Your dad and I would if we could, but we can't."

"Here's what we'll do. We don't want you going without either. Five hundred a month. Spend it carefully."

Five hundred wasn't even enough to eat.

To survive, I had to take part-time jobs.

"Clara! Clara!"

I came back to myself and saw the bright red deed in Vera's hand.

Our parents had bought her an apartment, close to the company.

Twenty minutes to commute.

Our brother had bought her a full set of furniture.

Vera smiled sweetly. "Sis, you go abroad on the third of next month, and I move into my new place on the third of next month."

"Double the good luck. Isn't that something?"

My father's voice was thick with indulgence. "Buying the place now means when Vera gets married she'll have property to stand on, more security. Her in-laws won't dare push her around."

My mother looked at me. "Clara, your sister is about to move into her new home. What are you giving her?"

My throat tightened. "I got a fully funded overseas graduate placement. What's she giving me?"

My mother's voice went hard.

"Clara Winfield!"

"You're the older sister. Your sister starting a job, moving into a new home, these are big things. How can you not have a single gesture for her?"

"You've saved plenty of money. You can't bear to give even your own sister a thing?"

"That money is for my studies abroad!"

"I'm a student who just graduated too. I don't have money!"

But my brother shot to his feet, his voice rising before he could catch it.

"Clara Winfield, you don't have money? Doesn't Mom give you living expenses every month?"

"You put aside a little from that for Vera. That counts as a gesture from you."

"You got a scholarship to go abroad. It's not like you're dying."

"Why do you have to force Vera to give you something right now? Can't you wait until she's settled at work?"

I already knew they favored Vera, but hearing my own brother wish me dead, I couldn't stop the shaking.

I looked at him. The anger still hadn't left his face.

Once again I had become the extra person in this family.

My brother was the Winfield root. Vera was the Winfield treasure.

Only I was a stray weed no one cared about.

To get Vera into the new apartment as fast as possible, my father went over every day to air the place out.

My brother was busy hauling her things across town.

My mother spent her days buying household supplies while Vera sat home in the air conditioning.

A week before I flew out, I gave up my rental and moved back home.

I laid out a makeshift bed on the balcony again.

My mother was packing Vera's things, looking at her with a face full of tenderness.

"Your room here is always yours. Whenever you want to come back, the bed will be clean and waiting!"

My brother looked at my bedding on the floor.

"Clara, you can see us carrying things in and out. The floor bed's in the way. Can't you just clear it up?"

I looked at him, calm.

"So just because you're moving her, I don't even get to lay out a bed?"

My mother cut in.

"What is wrong with you? Nobody said you can't sleep on the floor here."

"It's just that Vera moving into a new place is a big deal. Would it kill you to lend a hand?"

"After all these years, how are you still holding on to so much resentment?"

She blamed me for holding on to resentment.

Blamed me for not helping, and not one of them asked how my preparations to go abroad were coming along.

Whether I'd hit any snags with the paperwork.

They only cared about one daughter, Vera. They didn't care in the slightest what became of my future.

I forced the words out.

"Vera is your daughter, and so am I."

"If there's no room for me in this house, then I'll just go!"

I gathered up my bedding in a few quick motions, and my mother choked up and started to sob.

My brother shoved me in a fury, and I went down hard, face-first.

"Clara, you won't be happy until you've driven Mom into an early grave, is that it?"

My brother threw me out of the house.

"Go out there and think hard about what you've done. Without your family sheltering you, let's see how tough your mouth stays!"

Three days before I was set to fly out, I was thrown out of the house.

I found a hotel to get through a couple of nights, but when I went to pay, the card kept coming back with insufficient funds.

The clerk at the front desk gave me a look that said plenty.

Understanding what had happened, I went back home on instinct.

But I knocked at the door for three hours, and it never opened.

My brother's voice reached me through it.

"Nobody open that door for her. Let her learn that once she walks out, no one's going to coddle her!"

Inside, there was laughter and warm chatter. Outside, I stood alone through the whole night.

The next morning my mother came out to take the trash down, opened the door, and saw me standing there.

"Mom, that sixty thousand on my card, did you spend it?"

My mother frowned and shot me an unhappy look.

"Clara, it's the crack of dawn. Do you really have to pick a fight?"

So that was it.

I braced my body, numb with cold, and grabbed my mother's arm in desperation.

"Mom, do you have any idea? That was four years of savings for studying abroad."

"You spent all of it. How am I supposed to live over there?"

My mother's face went cold in an instant.

"Don't you have a scholarship for that?"

"How can you be this selfish?"

"Vera is your sister. Fine, you didn't chip in anything for her new place, but what's sixty thousand going to buy for a car? We even had to add money on top of it just to get Vera one!"

They'd actually used my money to buy Vera a new car.

When she didn't even need one to commute.

My brother heard the noise and yanked me off to the side.

"Sixty thousand is worth turning the whole house upside down first thing in the morning?"

I saw the new car and rushed at it like I'd lost my mind.

Before I could even touch it, a hand caught me and flung me back.

I turned and saw my father's face, blazing with rage.

"What do you think you're doing!"

I broke down sobbing, more than twenty years of buried hurt pouring out of me.

"That was four years of savings, money for me to go study abroad. What gives you the right, any of you, to buy Vera a car without my say-so?"

The hurt left me crying so hard I couldn't speak.

Vera spoke up, timid.

"Sis, don't, don't cry. I don't want the car anymore."

My mother slapped me hard, and after standing all night I staggered and dropped to the floor, my whole mouth flooding with the taste of rust.

She stared at me, full of disappointment.

"I could raise a dog for twenty years and it would still wag its tail at me."

"I raised you for over twenty years, and you raise a hand against your own parents over a little money. Raising you is worse than raising a dog!"

My father settled it with a single sentence.

"Vera works hard at her job. The car is a necessity."

"This matter, nobody is to bring it up again!"

I looked at the four faces, all of them disgusted with me.

"Fine. I won't."

I climbed slowly to my feet, said nothing, turned, and left.

Behind me my mother cried that she'd raised an ungrateful wretch.

"Don't bother with her. She flies out the day after tomorrow. Let's see how long she can keep up the stubbornness."

That night, my brother kicked the bedding I'd left on the balcony clear across the floor.

"Old enough to know better and still can't clean up after herself!"

I didn't come back all night, and when my brother passed by, he stepped around the bedding.

The second night, I still didn't come back.

I glanced at the 99+ messages in the group chat.

They were discussing adding a robot vacuum to Vera's new place.

Vera tagged me: "Sis, you fly out tomorrow, why aren't you home yet? Stop sulking and come back."

My brother's tone was mocking.

"Leave her alone. She flies out tomorrow and she's still not home. Who does she think she's scaring?"

I quietly left the group.

Only, that night, my mother stood staring blankly at the messy bedding, and it took Vera calling to her several times, carrying the last of the things, before she came back to herself.

Tomorrow was the day I flew out, and through the night she got up several times to look toward the balcony.

The bedding was still lying there in a heap.

"Vera, today's the day your sister flies out too. Why don't you give her a call?"

The call went through, but my mother's face slowly drained of color.