Twins by Francine Pascal

tell him that I’m through taking his
tests.
Tell him I failed this one because I ran. A fearless person wouldn’t run, right? Well, then I must be terrified because there’s no way in hell I’m staying here.”
    â€œGaia.” Natasha rose from her chair and stepped toward her. “I think your fever has—”
    â€œDon’t take another step,” Gaia warned, “or I swear to God, Ã11 break your neck. I’m sure you know I can do it. Just tell him….” The mere act of standing had left Gaia weak and short of breath. But her anger was providing all the power she needed. “Tell him to stay the hell out of what’s left of my life.”
    Gaia turned around and willed her legs to run. Natasha began to chase after her, but even in this state Gaia was too quick for her. She jogged through the alien rooms of the apartment, slamming each door behind her until she’d found the front door. She burst through and bolted down the building hallway, nearly falling down the entire first flight of stairs.
    For a moment the stairs appeared to be rolling up toward her like a high-speed cement escalator. Gaia grabbed onto the railing and shut her eyes, struggling to regain her balance. When she opened her eyes again, the stairs had thankfully stopped moving. But Gaia wasn’t so sure that
she
wanted to move. If the silent stillness of a stairwell was daunting, she couldn’t imagine what the outside world would be like. One simple thought spurred her legs to take on the stairs. One simple wish would keep her moving.
    Be home, Ed. Just please be home.

GAIA
    My father always told me I was beautiful.
    â€œYou’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” He would say it at least twice a day, usually when I was in the midst of some extremely banal unbeautiful task-like unclogging the toilet or cleaning out the gerbil cage.
    But even in fourth grade I was well aware of why he did it. God knows it wasn’t because I was actually beautiful. I mean, at the age of nine, I swear the top half of my face had decided to grow to full size while the bottom half was still stuck in negotiations. No, he did it as what I would call “a noble act of compensation.” That is to say, he did it so that I wouldn’t feel ugly next to my mother, who was in fact, empirically speaking, the most beautiful thing my father or I had ever seen.
    I know most nine-year-olds probably thought their motherswere the most beautiful woman they’d ever seen, but I was also a lot smarter than the average nine-year-old, and in my case, the opinion was based solely on fact.
    Plus I also had a very sophisticated understanding of which elements combined to form that superior beauty. While a lot of kids were probably under the impression that their mothers’ beauty stemmed only from the classic “unfettered smile,” I knew that in my mother’s case, it was actually a precise combination of three things:
The unfettered smile
The scent that her cooking created throughout the house (particularly her borscht and her beef stroganoff)
The sound of her voice when she sang a Russian folk song
    When these three elements were in harmony, my mother took on this otherworldly radiance thatwas so powerful, it was nearly blinding.
    And now, somehow, due to some sort of glorious mix-up in the time-space continuum, that blinding radiance is shining in my eyes again.
    home
    His eyes and mouth were contorted with a look of unfathomable pain, like a living Rodin sculpture—an agonized, tortured soul.

Accidental Compliment
    â€œTESTS? WHAT TESTS? WHAT ON earth is she talking about?”
    Tom felt a painful twinge in his stomach. He couldn’t begin to understand the meaning of Gaia’s statements, but it really wouldn’t have mattered what she had said. Natasha’s description of his daughter’s bitter rage hurt enough.
    â€œI have no idea,” Natasha replied,