The Lacey Twins
Renee Lacey gazed through the glass of the incubator at the tiny infant sleeping peacefully in her pink flannel cocoon. Just to the right of newborn Shelby, another baby girl, Amber, slept in a similar incubator.
Twins! the mother thought with pride. I've been doubly blessed!
As she stared down at her sleeping children, Renee felt the maternal urge to hold them, to kiss their pale blond hair and to feel their tiny fists grasp her index finger. She felt a pang of sadness, knowing she would be going home the next day but the children would be staying in the hospital. At home the nursery had already been prepared. Two identical cribs, surrounded by a bevy of Beatrix Potter characters, awaited the girls' homecoming.
Renee supposed she ought to be thankful for a few days of rest before assuming her new duties as the mother of twins, but she had waited years to become pregnant and suffered the heartbreak of two miscarriages. Then, just when she believed she was too old to conceive, she discovered she was pregnant with twins! After months of anticipation, she was eager to take the babies home, to feed them, change them and rock them to sleep at night.
"Your pediatrician said the girls should be strong enough to go home in another week or so," the head maternity nurse announced when she saw Renee keeping close watch over her young.
"A week? It seems like an eternity."
The nurse smiled.
New mothers! They're all so eager to bring their progeny home, like little girls who long to play with a new doll. In six months' time, Mrs. Lacey will no doubt be pulling her hair out.
The next seven days went by slowly. Despite being discharged by her obstetrician, Renee spent most of her time in the hospital maternity ward where she was allowed to help the nurses bathe, change and feed her daughters. Finally, the pediatrician pronounced them fit to go home.
Like most new parents, the Laceys gauged their daughters' development by the progress of other children their age. Shelby and Amber were able to turn over onto their stomachs at about the same time as other infants and were slightly ahead of their peers when it came to sitting up without support. Yet while the girls' physical growth appeared to be normal, the parents were anxious about their mental development. The twins rarely cried and never made the endearing noises that other babies made.
The pediatrician assured the Laceys that there was no cause for concern, but Renee could not help worrying that something was wrong with her daughters. When she took the girls to the doctor for their regularly scheduled check-ups, she always fretfully awaited the doctor's conclusion.
By the time the girls were approaching school age, Renee Lacey's fears were finally allayed. Not only did her daughters talk, but they spoke with a vocabulary far beyond their years.
* * *
One warm summer afternoon the Lacey family was strolling through the flea market at the former drive-in theater. As Andrew Lacy examined a collection of vintage Matchbox cars, his wife walked ahead to look at a table of old dolls and plush animals.
"Look, Mommy," five-year-old Shelby said, "there's a doll like you used to have."
Renee looked up and saw a well-preserved Betsy McCall doll on the dealer's table.
"Yes, it is. It's exactly like the one my mother gave to me."
She was so delighted at the sight of the toy that it took a few moments for the question to come to her mind: how did Shelby know about the doll? It had belonged to her own mother back in the Fifties before it was passed down to her. She had not thought about the Betsy McCall for years much less talked about it.
"How did you know I had one like that?"
"I saw you playing with it," Shelby replied.
"I don't understand. My mother gave away my old dolls and toys when I went to college. How could you have seen me with it?"
"I didn't see you with these," the child said, pointing to her eyes. "I saw you with this."
The index finger traveled up to the top of her head.
"You imagined me playing with a doll like this. What a strange coincidence!"
"No—not imagined. I saw you. You were in the back seat of your father's Ford station wagon on the way to Cape Cod. You were pretending the doll was Nancy Drew."
Every nerve in Renee's body tingled momentarily. Shelby not only knew about the doll, the station wagon and the trip to Cape Cod, but she also knew what had been going through her mother's mind at that time. The realization that her child had psychic powers left her momentarily stunned.
"Mommy, are you all right?" Shelby asked.
"Y-yes," her mother stammered.
"I told you she'd be upset when she learned about your visions," Amber told her twin.
Renee's head turned from one daughter to the other.
"You knew about your sister's ... gift?"
"Of course. We know everything about each other," Amber replied.
"Did you see me as a little girl, too?"
"No."
From the way the child guiltily cast her eyes down when she answered, Renee deduced she was not being completely truthful.
On the drive home from the flea market, Renee was unusually quiet.
"Got a headache?" Andrew asked.
"No. I'm just thinking."
"About what?"
"Something I saw at the flea market," she lied, hoping her daughters would remain silent. "A doll like one my mother gave me when I was a child."
Renee did not want to tell her husband about Shelby's ability until she had a better understanding of it herself.
* * *
The following day, after she finished her housework, Renee went to Shelby's room with a deck of cards.
"Want to play a game?" she asked.
"Old Maid?"
"No. I was thinking of playing Concentration."
"How do you play?" the little girl asked.
Shelby laid all fifty-two cards face down on the table in neat rows.
"The idea of the game is to match cards in pairs, like a pair of sevens or a pair of kings. You select two cards and turn them over. If they don't match, you have to try to remember what the cards are and come back to them later."
The little girl leaned forward and turned over two cards: the three of hearts and the nine of clubs. Her mother returned the cards to their original position and selected two cards of her own.
As they played the game, Renee studied her daughter carefully. Shelby was no better at selecting pairs of cards than she was. Why hadn't the child been able to "see" what was on the face of the cards? In the movies and on television, suspected psychics were often tested with cards, and true seers could accurately identify the stars, circles and wavy lines without seeing them.
"Daddy was playing cards last week," Shelby said as her mother shuffled the deck for a new game.
"When was that?" Renee asked.
"When he was supposed to be helping Uncle Scott fix the car. He and his friends were really playing cards in Uncle Scott's basement."
"Did Daddy tell you that?"
"No. I saw it."
"Like you saw me playing with the Betsy McCall doll?"
Shelby nodded.
"How often do you see things with your head and not your eyes?"
"All the time. So does Amber, but she doesn't like to talk about it—except to me."
"When did these visions start?"
"I don't know. I've been seeing things as long as I can remember."
"How come you couldn't immediately pick out the pairs of cards then?"
"I don't know," the child replied after giving the matter some thought. "Probably because I see the cards with my eyes, not my head."
"Are you seeing anything in your mind now?"
Shelby turned her head toward the canopy bed.
"This wasn't always a bedroom. There was a desk here and bookcases against that wall, and over there you had a typewriter and a file cabinet."
"Yes, your father used this room as a home office before you and your sister were born."
Speaking of her husband, Renee knew she would have to break the news to him—and the sooner, the better.
* * *
When Andrew walked into his house and smelled the delicious scent of cinnamon and apples, he closed his eyes and inhaled, savoring the aroma. He put his briefcase on the sofa and walked directly to the kitchen.
"Did you bake today?" he asked his wife, who was carving a pot roast with an electric knife.
"Your favorite: homemade apple pie."
"What's the occasion?"
"No occasion. I just thought it would be nice to have an old-fashioned home-cooked meal for a change. There's beer in the fridge, too. Why don't you get one and go watch the Red Sox game while I finish getting dinner ready?"
As Andrew relaxed in his La-Z-Boy recliner with a cold bottle of Sam Adams in one hand and the remote control in the other, he marveled at how perfect his life was. He had a beautiful, intelligent wife he adored; two healthy, well-behaved daughters; a good job; a nice house. What more could he ask for, with the possible exception of another world championship for the Red Sox?
Sitting on his reclining throne, enjoying the treasures of his kingdom, Andrew had no inkling of suspicion that his peaceful reign was about to come to an end.
"It's time to eat, honey," Renee called from the dining room.
He waited only a moment: to see Big Papi strike out and end the inning.
"Mmmm! Smells good!"
The girls came running into the kitchen, hungry for a piece of their mother's pie, a treat they normally only got at Thanksgiving and Christmas.
"No pie unless you eat your meal," Renee warned.
Despite the holiday-like feast, as far as the conversation went, it was a normal Lacey family dinner. Renee questioned her husband about his day at the office, and he did his best to show interest in her day-to-day activities. The twins informed their parents of the Irish setter puppies that were born to the neighbor's dog.
"Could we get one of Rusty's puppies?" Shelby asked.
"I don't think so." Andrew jumped in before his wife could reply.
"Having a dog would teach the girls a sense of responsibility," Renee argued.
"Daddy doesn't like pets, ever since his dog Chaucer ran away," Shelby explained.
Renee closed her eyes. She had gone through the trouble of making a special meal to soften the blow only to have Shelby reveal the secret prematurely.
"How on earth did you know about Chaucer?" Andrew asked.
"There's something we need to discuss," Renee said before her daughter had the opportunity to answer.
"In a minute. First, I want an answer to my question. Well, Shelby? How did you know about my dog?"
"I saw him."
"That's imposs—"
"The girls are psychic," Renee blurted out. "They can see things with their minds."
"You knew about this?" he asked his wife with disbelief.
"I just found out about it myself the other day. I was going to break the news to you tonight after dessert."
Andrew looked from his wife to Shelby to Amber. Suddenly, all three seemed like strangers to him.
"I'm going out for a drink," he announced.
He got up from the table without finishing his meal, grabbed his keys and drove to Charlie's Bar.
* * *
Renee had fallen asleep before her husband returned that night, and she saw him only briefly the following morning as he raced out the front door. She was therefore surprised when he came home from work that evening in cheerful spirits.
"You're in a good mood," his wife noted with relief.
"Yes, I am. I admit that when I first learned about our daughters' little peculiarity, I was worried. I was afraid the tabloid reporters and religious crackpots would line up on our doorstep if word got out. But I gave the matter a lot of thought at the office today, and I realized this paranormal ability could be a blessing in disguise."
Andrew reached into his briefcase and took out a lottery betting slip.
"What's that?"
"The Mega Millions jackpot is over a hundred and twenty million," he announced excitedly. "All the girls have to do is pick the six winning numbers, and we'll be living on Easy Street for the rest of our lives."
"You can't be serious! You want the girls to tell you the winning lottery numbers?"
"Why not? Somebody has to win the money eventually. Why shouldn't it be us?"
"It seems like ... like cheating somehow."
"How do we know other psychics haven't done the same thing? Maybe that Ken Jennings won his three million on Jeopardy because he saw the answers in his mind."
"Well ...."
Andrew smiled, knowing his wife was about to give in.
"No one will ever know I didn't pick the numbers myself. People will just think I'm another lucky guy who won the lottery. Just imagine it: no more mortgage and car payments, and the girls will be able to go to the best schools. Wouldn't you like to be the proud mother of two Harvard graduates?"
"Maybe one Harvard and one MIT," Renee laughed.
"Shelby!" Andrew called up the stairwell. "Come down here a minute, I want you to do me a favor."
The little girl hurried down, anxious to please her father.
"What is it, Daddy?"
"Mommy and I want you to concentrate real hard and pick the six numbers for Friday night's Mega Millions drawing."
The little girl hung her head.
"I can't."
"It's important, sweetheart."
"But I can't see the future. I can only see what happened in the past."
"You mean there are rules to these visions? Can't you try to see into the future?"
"I have tried, but I can't do it. I can't see the future, and Amber can't see the past."
Andrew's heartbeat quickened.
"Are you saying that Amber can see the future?"
Shelby nodded her head.
"She sees the future, but she doesn't want to."
"We'll see if we can't change her mind. Amber! Come here a minute."
Like her sister, Amber claimed she could not pick the lottery numbers.
"Won't you just give it a try? Even if we don't win, it will only cost me a dollar."
"You don't understand, Daddy. I don't like to use my mind's eye," the little girl cried, referring to her psychic ability.
"Why not? Does it make you feel sick?"
"No. It's just that I don't like the visions I see. They scare me."
"Why would they frighten you? Don't you want to see Mommy and Daddy win a lot of money? If we win the lottery, Daddy will quit his job, and we'll travel. We can go to Disneyworld, England, Paris, Greece, Hawaii. Any place you want to go. You and your sister can get a playhouse and a puppy. Hell, with all that money, we can buy you a pony, or better yet one for each of you."
"But, Daddy ...."
"Please! Do this one thing for your mother and me."
Holding back her tears, Amber sat at the kitchen table, picked up a pencil and began filling in numbers on the lottery betting slip.
* * *
Friday night at 11:15, the Laceys gathered around the Sony television in the family room. The girls had been allowed to stay up past their bedtime for the occasion.
"In just a few minutes, they're going to announce the winning numbers," Andrew said, grasping a slip of paper in his hand, a printout of his selected numbers.
Renee shared her husband's excitement, but the twins were strangely somber.
They're probably just tired, their mother thought.
"As soon as the drawing is over, you two are going up to bed."
"What? No celebration?" Andrew asked.
"Don't get too confident," Renee cautioned. "There's no guarantee we're going to win."
"We'll win," Amber said flatly. "I saw it."
Andrew held his breath as the numbers were called. Eleven ... twenty-two ... fifty-four ... He felt his heart pounding with excitement. All three numbers were on his ticket. Eighteen ... forty-one ... There were butterflies in his stomach when he realized he was one number away from the jackpot.
"Five numbers!" Renee exclaimed. "Even if we don't get the megaball, we'll still win about a quarter of a million."
Her husband closed his eyes, as though willing the last number to be called.
"And the megaball is ... thirteen."
Andrew giddily swept his wife in his arms and swung her around.
"We're rich! Even if we have to share the jackpot with other winners."
"Don't worry, Daddy," Amber said with a yawn as she headed toward the stairs. "There are no other winners. You'll have the money all to yourself."
* * *
During the next month, Shelby and Amber were withdrawn to the point of gloominess. Neither twin smiled or laughed and rarely spoke except to each other.
"What's with the sad faces?" Andrew asked, attempting to tickle them into laughing. "Lately, you two gloomy gusses are about as much fun as a root canal."
"Just wait until we get to Disneyworld," Renee added encouragingly. "That ought to make you both happy."
Shelby smiled and nodded in agreement, but her clairvoyant sister knew the Lacey family would never get to Florida.
The following week Andrew was robbed as he walked out of his bank. He put up no resistance; however, the thief, not wanting to leave a witness to identify him, shot his victim anyway. The recent lottery winner died on the way to the hospital.
At the exact moment their father took his last breath, the twins exchanged a meaningful glance, and their eyes filled with tears.
"It's over," Amber announced. "Daddy's gone to heaven."
"At least you will no longer be haunted by your visions of his death," Shelby said.
"No, his murder is in the past. But you, my poor sister, will now have to endure it."
Shelby reached out and took Amber's hand. As they would their entire lives, the twins comforted each other, for their visions were a curse that no one else, not even their mother, could fully comprehend.
The image in the upper left corner is taken from "Gemini" by Josephine Wall.
Salem sees his future self traveling around the universe, boldly going where no cat has gone before. I see him overeating and then sleeping on a comfortable chair.
