Tweedledum and Tweedledee by Willow Rose Page A

and meat in the bathroom and sterilized it. Then he went back to his needle and thread. With a strong wrist and firm hand, he put the needle through the skin and sewed the piece onto another one.
    "What are you doing now?" Deedee asked.
    "I’ve finished the leg. Now I'm repairing the other one. It needs new skin. The old one started to rot."
    "I know. I can smell it," Deedee said.
    "We'll fix it," the man said. "I'll fix it. Just trust me."
    "I trust you," Deedee said.
    The man walked to Deedee's case and held his creation up in front of him. "See? I'm almost done. Just need to make sure it fits. It's like pants. I made it like pants so you can put them on."
    "It looks great," Deedee said. "Help me get it on."
    The man placed the leg in the case, then stuffed the bones that once were another leg, into the human-skin pants.
    "There," he said, with tears in his voice. "It's perfect."
    "Now I have two legs like everyone else," Deedee said.
    The man nodded. "Yes, you do."
    "I'm the luckiest boy in the world."
    "Yes, you are. You're just like all the other boys."
    "It's perfect," Deedee said
    The man nodded, while holding back his tears. He grabbed his camera. "Smile, Deedee. Smile."
     

30
    April 2014
    V ICTOR HAD A HARD time calming down after the photograph incident by the pool. He was restless at lunch in the restaurant and couldn't sit still on his chair. I couldn't shake what my mother had said and tried to calm him, constantly telling him to sit still. It created an annoying tension between all of us at the table. I couldn't help feeling that my mother was comparing the two boys and thinking, why couldn’t Victor couldn't be more like Christoffer, who sat nicely at the table and ate quietly?
    My dad tried to ease the tension by talking about food and what we were eating. I ordered a huge seafood platter and ate everything, but I couldn't really enjoy it, since I was way too tense.
    "I think I'll take the boys back to the suite now," I said, when I’d finished my last shrimp. "Victor needs his rest. There’s too much noise and too many people everywhere."
    "Arh, come on," my mom said. "It's not too bad, is it?"
    If only looks could kill.
    "Well, it is to him. A nap will do him good."
    "I thought we were hanging out by the pool after lunch," my mom said. "I was looking forward to spending some time with my grandchild in the water."
    "Now, Ulla. If the boy needs his rest…," my dad said.
    "You're always taking her side against me," my mom interrupted him. "Why is that? You're all ganging up on me. I feel like I don't really belong in this family anymore," my mom sniffled.
    I rolled my eyes. She was playing the victim-card again. I wasn't falling for it. But my dad was.
    "No. No. Ulla. That's not true. Of course you're a part of the family, just as much as the rest of us."
    "Just because I’ve been away for a little while, doesn't mean I don't love all of you," she said, sobbing.
    It was ridiculous. Her little charade was too much for me.
    "Of course not," my dad said. "Emma tell her."
    I frowned. "Tell her what? That it doesn't matter that she was gone for almost five years of her children's lives? That she missed some of the most important days of her grandchildren's lives? Well, I can't. Because it's not true. It does matter. It matters a great deal."
    My mother gasped and held her chest. "How can you say such horrible things Emma?"
    "Because it's the truth. It's how I feel. I know you're back and I love that you and Dad are doing so well. It's truly amazing, but you can't come back and pretend like you haven't been away. You can't come here and be condescending towards me because I have a son who is a little different and might not be the perfect grandson you wanted. Yes, he is different. But he is also smart and a great kid. And I happen to be doing this the best way I know how to. You can't just come here after all this time and think you know anything about how he should be treated. You don't know him, Mom. You