Daniel Sada - One Out of Two

Intentionally or not, they slowly became opponents, though despite the magnitude of their jealousy and ingratitude, the knot of their shared lives had not shaken loose.

At bedtime, they were nothing but two ghostly and ataxic monkeys furtively wrapping themselves in sheets and blankets with the falsest possible modesty. And then their dreams, in some ways the same, might have corresponded to their predictions, which each safeguarded as if it were a favorite ornament, safeguarded to avoid wounding her other half. Picturing themselves far away or picturing themselves together, but always with Oscar: which one? On the off chance that he would accept a rather peculiar marriage: with two wives, who are in fact one, so …

In a case this convoluted, circumspection held sway. It was time for keen reflection. And since both knew that their hoodwinked boyfriend was an honorable man, in his own way, would that insanity, living with both of them, as reiterations, and in the same bed, be good for him? … Everything was still up in the air … In the meantime: more of the same: there was such a backlog of work, they hadn’t time to think about future rewards. On automatic: and their customers discreetly offered their tact, along with yards of fabric they’d soon come back to collect, sometimes in only a few hours, as perfectly sewn garments: the money: their purpose: which they stashed under a mattress. And the outings and Oscar with his obsessive objective: the huge restaurant that hopefully …

As if nothing of any importance was going on, the seamstresses focused anew on what had earned them their reputation. Their image was little by little getting spiffed up, and their productivity spoke volumes of their unrivaled harmony, of a life tethered to a single foundation: exquisite work done quickly. Though if people knew the truth, they’d know that deep down inside simmered nothing but the basest of passions, still controlled, perhaps, by that indissoluble devotion to their age-old sameness.

In the end, a vain contrivance. They were like two excessively celebrated actresses whose eccentricities people find a way to forgive. What would be seen as a defect in anybody else was in them a mere peculiarity. If one of them held hands with her boyfriend on the way to the walnut grove: it was original and that was the end of it. If the other (either one) at some point clung to the walls like a spider, it was because she was watching over her twin and because she didn’t know if that stranger was decent or not, and she’d find out by keeping an eye on him and her sister. In short: “You reap what you sow …,” or so went the facile adage they’d heard so often wherever they’d been.

But let’s now put on our spectacles and peer more closely at their dark reality: they almost never looked at each other: a nascent horror of seeing themselves, like a curse, repeated. Why, after all these years, didn’t they look any different, not even when expressing hatred or joy? Why was God so mean as to turn them — and only them — into such a crazy joke? Which meant that, to talk to each other … Only every once in a while, maybe because they knew they could change their destinies by again tossing a coin for their beau, and that meant never seeing each other, even hating each other, severing their union: now truly noxious and monstrous. Both mulled this over in the same way and deep down inside, and since their intuition laid bare both of their nasty ambuscades, they were afraid to confront their truths.

But, about that coin toss: they read it in each other’s minds, and saw the long threads that would unravel in its wake. Oh, my goodness! Two-headed snakes, tale-bearers, maquiscoatl witches, who while focused on their stitches struggled to know what mortal sin their parents, now cadavers, had passed on to them that they had to pay with their lives. And each reproached herself for not being devout enough, not even to a saint or to the image of any virgin.

They spent horrible days silently sulking and exchanging glances both gloomy and askance.

One night at dinner Constitución finally dared to break the ice. Someone had to speak, so let it be the chatterbox — we could’ve guessed — and not without a certain amount of trepidation, for she was broaching a thorny subject:

“We still look alike, but maybe our obsession with looking alike is what’s holding us back. The thing is … Well, you know what I’m talking about! So, for a few weeks now I’ve been thinking that what has always been a virtue has become a defect that might destroy us.”

Gloria, who was washing the dishes, looked her up and down like an inquisitor as if to say: “Okay, now let’s see what’s in this can of worms.” Because she, caught by surprise, wasn’t thinking of mentioning the problem. On the contrary, her master plan was to play her cards close until the whole thing blew up, but cruel destiny was saying to them “Here, take that!” and destiny is nothing but a trickster demon. There was, however, no hope, they were so much alike that they could not sequester even their deepest secrets, so she answered stiffly:

“I’ve been thinking about that, too …”

“So, what do you think we should do about it?”

Gloria, hesitating, kept at her task, and after a gray moment of temperance, she answered quietly:

“There are many solutions, but all of them are awful …”

“We have to come up with one good one.”

“Look, I can’t think of anything. What I will confess is that at this stage of the mess we’re in, being twins really bothers me. To tell the truth, I believe that we’re going to be done for, because we can’t keep tricking Oscar; we know full well that rumors spread quickly around here, and in the end, somebody’s going to tell him straight out what’s going on.”

“But, do you think people know that he’s going out with both of us? Do you think anyone has noticed?”

“I don’t imagine so. I want to think not.”

“You’re sure optimistic.”

“The issue is simple. If what you say were true, one of our customers would have already said something. As you know, the people of Ocampo aren’t famous for their discretion. Everybody, even the children, are big blabbermouths; there’s always somebody ready to spill the beans, even if it does harm. No, for sure neither Oscar nor anybody else knows about our trick; and what’s more: sometimes I think that God or the Devil has arranged everything so that it will stay between the two of us.”

Listening in amazement to her sister’s fresh deductions: Constitución: still sitting: began to scold her rashly, spewing forth a harangue: “Ssh! Stop it! Get a grip on yourself!” just like a mother who sees her daughter about to pour honey on her beans or sprinkle red-hot chili peppers in her watermelon juice, and again, she shouted at her in a commanding voice:

“Come over here! Sit down! Stop all this nonsense! We have to talk about what’s been bothering us and making us so dreary for the past three weeks, and we’ve got to figure out how to prevent things from happening that we don’t want to happen.”

Gloria, bewildered, ceased her soaping and rinsing and strode valiantly back to the table. Then, defiantly, she unexpectedly dropped into a chair while bringing the palm of her right hand to her slightly greasy chin, in a show of interest. Disgusting mule! Constitución, however, ignoring this affront, continued:

“The way I see it, our dear boyfriend already suspects that we’re up to something fishy, don’t think he’s so dumb that he doesn’t realize that his Constitución is sometimes swapped out for someone who looks just like her, but he plays the fool to avoid a confrontation or maybe just for the fun of it; to tell you the truth, I think he sees this whole thing as a game, and that’s why he’s never mentioned marriage.”