Nice. Even. Perfect.

by Zary Fekete

“How much?! Jesus!!” 

Kathy dropped the sweater in a huff. Then she turned and winked at me. All part of her plan. The saleswoman sidled up to her, sweater in hand, apology on face. Kathy flicked her hair, and in my mind, I mimicked her. God, I wished we were sisters…twins. We’re both blond. Both almost the same age. Both about the same height. When I look at the two of us in the mirror, we look pretty much alike. I think so. I hope so. This makes things much easier for me. Every day I wake up, imagining us side by side, together for eternity, preserved in a state of suspended animation, like perfect dolls. Sound strange? It isn’t.  I’ll explain why in a second.

“I’m sure we can come up with a solution,” the saleswoman said. “Please, hon. It looks great on you!” Kathy turned back, her face now set with her “impress me” expression. The woman gushed with admiration for Kathy’s hair and eyes and insisted how nice the cashmere would be as an offset for Kathy’s profile. “And maybe I can get the manager to come down from that price?” She tucked her chin down and looked up at Kathy hopefully from beneath her eyebrows. Kathy rolled her eyes and nodded. The woman thanked her profusely and then handed Kathy the sweater before disappearing into the back of the store. 

And that’s when I noticed the three pins. Crap.

The pins must have been part of the sweater’s packaging. Now the three of them lay, discarded on the display table next to the mirror, staring up at me like three infected eyes. Kathy turned toward the mirror to admire herself. This gave me my chance. Shielding her view with my body, I stepped to the display table where the pins were. I winced as I got closer to them. A twist intensified in my stomach and was now accompanied by a hook sinking into my mind. A stabbing. A deep red hole. Not from the pins so much but from the number. If there had been four? No problem. Two? Who cares. But three? No. 

My counselor said it’s rare. I guess I’m the only person she’s met who has this particular mix. She’s met plenty of people with pica. And lots of people have number issues. But no one but me has the two things mixed. I need meds for it, and even then it’s hard for me to control. It came out when I was beginning first grade. In fact, so much is tied to those few weeks. That’s when I met Kathy. We were seated next to each other, desk to desk. She was so pretty. I wondered if I was pretty like her. She moved to fix a barrette in her hair, and I caught myself doing the same thing. That’s the first time I imagined us as twins.

Until then, something about the encased safety of life at home insulated me from whatever my brain didn’t like about life. Mom had seen signs. She noticed I tended to avoid odd-numbered things. I cried if I saw five marbles on the floor and wouldn’t touch my peas if they weren’t grouped into twos. She could help me control those things at home. But at school? Nope. No control there. It was my first time around lots of other kids, and, besides Kathy, I didn’t like looking at anyone else. Unevenness everywhere. Nothing was smooth. No one washed their hands. Fingers always in noses. My mind lit up like a comet. I sat at my little desk that first day, unable to look at any of the classmates around me. Nothing had order. Everyone seemed filthy. It was like they were illuminated in my vision by an alarm system and once I saw them, I couldn’t unsee them…even if I looked away. They lurked on the outside of my peripheral vision like hovering gnats.

But that day when I saw the thumbtack on the classroom floor… something broke. In my mind’s eye, it’s like it happened yesterday. I see myself, as though from outside my body. A little girl in her desk, frozen with creeping dread. The thumbtack seemed to be throbbing. It was a simmering boil beaming up at me from the ground. I couldn’t ignore it. No one else seemed to care. They carried on beneath their dusty hair, incased in their dry, flaking skin. But I couldn’t ignore it. If I didn’t do something, I would scream. So, I did it. I don’t know how. I knew it was dirty. I knew if anyone saw me, they would gag. But seeing the bright, plastic, yellow tack with its tiny metal spine was too much. I grabbed it…and swallowed it. That was my first one, and it hadn’t been smooth. I felt the point scratch my throat all the way down. It brought up a silky-smooth sheen of blood into my mouth, bright with copper. But the sensation of it hitting my stomach did something for me. I had removed it. It was gone. And getting rid of it seemed to turn down the flame in my brain. Somehow by deleting the single, odd-out digit of filth, a balance returned.

That was ten years ago. Since then, I’ve managed to fit my life into a series of patterns. It’s taken some time to get things right., but now life works. I organize everything evenly. Most of that is easy. Two socks. Two shoes. Everything I carry with me is even. I count all my bills, there must be doubles. Same for coins. Same for everything in my purse. Two lipsticks. Four packs of gum. Even the bigger things. Two wallets. Two tasers (Gifts from Dad. Just in case...not that I’ve ever been on a date…Boys are dirty.) My whole life is organized around this principle. I wake up. Line up my clothes. Eat my breakfast. Neatly pack my bag. Head to school. Spend time with, Kathy, my imagined twin. And I head back home at the end of the day. No problems. Usually, I’m fine. A normal girl with nice hair and a pleasant smile. But from time to time the only way to manage is to rid the world of imbalance…by swallowing it.

And that’s where Kathy comes in. My imagined sister. My double. When I imagine myself alone in the world, I can’t handle it. There must be two. I must have another. A twin. The thought of Kathy next to me gives me a sense of calm. And that’s where the concept of identical dolls is so helpful to me. I remember a lesson our grade school teacher taught us that helped me ground myself in my relationship with Kathy. The lesson was strange. The teacher taught us that civilizations from all around the world have preserved human bodies by adding chemicals, keeping the skin intact through centuries. I immediately sat up, listening closely. That’s what I wanted for me and Kathy. I wanted the two of us, side by side, walking together, preserved in perfect harmony, forever. I never wanted to be alone, without her, by myself. I needed my twin. I wanted the two of us, preserved in amber, shining like jewels, throughout eternity. 

The mental image of me and Kathy, side by side…it keeps everything even for me. And that’s what I need. Mom thinks I let Kathy take advantage of me, walk over me. She says I’m always bending over backward for her. If Kathy calls, I’m up and ready to do whatever she asks. But it keeps me even, so I’ll do whatever it takes. That’s why I was there today at the store. Darren broke up with her last night. She felt lonely. Her parents were gone on an anniversary trip. Her house was empty. She needed some retail therapy. So, even though I was just starting my math homework, I dropped it so I could stand next to her while she bought her cashmere.

The three safety pins were still looking up at me with sick heat. I slipped them into my palm and imagined I could feel them infecting my skin. “Be right back,” I said, giving Kathy’s arm a friendly pinch. I walked toward the entrance to the store, hearing the buzz of the mall out front. I chanced a glance back. Kathy was fiddling with another sweater, preening in front of the mirror. I quickly stuck the pins in my mouth, tipping back my hand, and swallowing them with one movement. Two went down easily, but the third caught. A stopped, gently massaging my throat and trying not to panic. I dry-swallowed again and sighed with relief as I felt the third pin go down.

Standard operating procedure. A moment later a delicious sense of balance returned. I felt the three pins inside of me. I had taken them out of the world. There was no more mocking imbalance in their insouciant ill will. I felt liberated. I stood between the stack of jeans and the jewelry counter and actually felt my mind become lighter. 

The next day in class Kathy was wearing her new sweater. She managed to get the deal and had a new pair of shoes thrown in for good measure. I usually felt dwarfed by Kathy’s light, like I was a dim shadow in her radiance. But actually, I didn’t mind. I could never be sure when a moment of imbalance would strike, so it was better to not stand out in the world. I needed to be ready to react…to even things out if necessary. So I didn’t want extra attention on me. I wanted to float under the radar…next to Kathy. I just wanted to be near to her. I wanted us to be side by side with matching smiles. And so far everything had worked fine. Little did I know things were going to change today.

Kathy gave a soft gasp just as class was starting. I looked over at her. Her head was turned toward the back of the room. Then she looked at me darkly, and tossed her hair. 

“Like I care, but someone’s eyeing you.” 

I chanced a look back. It was Darren. Crap. Before he started dating Kathy, he was the only guy on my radar for the past three years. We had flirted a couple of times. But then Kathy sidled up next to him one day during gym class, and I pushed him out of my mind. Kathy mattered more than him. I needed my twin. If that meant preserving Kathy then she could have all of Darren’s attention as far as I was concerned. But now, here he was, looking at me from between twin locks of auburn hair. Two locks, nice. In fact, everything was symmetrical. His eyes. His cheek bones. Both sides of his mouth. Nice. Smooth. Even.

He caught my glance and raised his hand, indicating my glasses. I was wearing the new frames I had picked up yesterday. They were an impulse purchase from the cashmere store. I smiled at him hesitantly and he lifted his fingers to his mouth with a chef’s kiss. I blushed, turning back toward the front.

In reality, I started to panic. This wasn’t good. I mean, sure I liked him and all. But if I had to choose between a boy and my other half, there was no contest. The thought of life with no Kathy, no twin body…I couldn’t imagine. Just me? Alone?! No. With a growing twist of agony in my gut, I turned to look at her. She was purposefully ignoring me. Class had started, so I couldn’t say anything, but I quickly took out a slip of paper. I scrawled, He’s a jerk. I passed it to her.

She glanced at it. A second later she passed it back to me. I looked down at what she had written. Game recognizes game. I felt anxiety rising in my chest. I started to write back to her, but then she raised her hand to be excused. A moment later she had a hall pass and was headed for the door. As she stepped out into the hall, she looked back at me and silently flicked me off.

Several realizations crashed down on me at once. I was alone. Kathy was gone. I felt like I could see myself, my body, suspended in the air, all alone. There was no comforting mental image of a second body next to me. Our perfect preservation as twin dolls was shattered. Immediately my mind lit up in overdrive. Would she come back? I didn’t know. And her finger. In my mind, there it was. Hanging in the air. Perpetually mocking me. Burning. Agonizing. Not just the sight of it, but what it meant between the two of us. I had to do something. I needed to win her back.

I sat there, thinking. Then a thought occurred to me. 

When class let out, I immediately walked out into the hall and waited. A second later Darren exited. He saw me and grinned. 

“Hey,” he said. “Nice glass…”

“Later,” I said, cutting him off. “They aren’t the only new thing I got at the mall yesterday.” I slipped my shirt off my shoulder so he could see my bra strap. “Want a peek?”

His eyes got wide. I grabbed his hand and pulled him down the hall. Seventh period was next, last one of the day, and that meant the music room would be empty. I guided Darren down the busy halls, and, as the other students disappeared into their next classes, the music room door grew before my vision. When I got there, opened it carefully, peeping in. Perfect. Empty. 

I pulled Darren in and, before he could say anything, I propelled him forward, up the stairs, and toward the back row of chairs. I purposefully didn’t switch on the lights. “Sit,” I said, and pushed him down into one of the chairs. He sat. His eyes were wide in anticipation. I reached into my purse.

When it was done, I felt a strange calm wash over me. The balance was restored, if only for a moment. I had to make sure it stayed that way. Permanently. I waited until dark. Then I moved quickly, the sounds of my footsteps echoing in the hall as I made my way toward the back exit, the loading dock where the cafeteria food was unloaded, the cool night air hitting me like a slap to my face. Everybody had gone home. No one saw me.

Kathy’s house wasn’t far. I could get there in time. I had to.  As I walked, I thought about the two of us side by side. That’s what I wanted. No one could come between us again. The thought of it made my heart race, made my pulse quicken with excitement. I ran through my plan in my mind. It would work. It had to.

I reached Kathy’s street. The sky was dark, the houses lined up like silent sentinels, like guardians preserving the steps to eternity. My footsteps felt softer now, quieter, as I approached the door. I knew she wouldn’t be home yet. She’d be out somewhere, maybe back at the mall. Time enough for me to get everything ready.

I reached down to the mat outside her back door. The key was there. Of course it was. Kathy trusted me. She always had. I stepped inside. No one was there. Her parents were gone on their trip.

I moved up to her bedroom. I had to work quickly…but carefully. Preservation requires effort. I neatly unbuttoned her bedspread and spread it out on the floor. I lay down on the blanket and waited.

Finally, I heard the downstairs door open. She was home. I heard her moving around downstairs. And then, finally, I heard her steps on the stairs.

Her door opened. The light blazed on. 

Kathy stood in the doorway. She saw me laying there. Her eyes widened. Her fingers hovered near the door handle.

I smiled. 

“Come in, Kathy,” I said softly. “I’ve been waiting.” 

“What the hell…” But that’s as far as she got before I pulled. The noose I fashioned from her bed sheet tightened around her feet. I gave a quick yank, and she toppled backward, landing with a thud. It was all the time I needed. I moved quickly, both tasers out. Just like I had with Darren earlier. But unlike with Darren, I didn’t keep them on her too long. I needed her alive…a bit longer.

I pulled her unconscious body into the room. I turned off the light. Darkness for preservation. Slowly and carefully…lovingly…I wrapped her in the blanket until only her head was free. She woke up and started screaming, but I know she didn’t mean the things she said. She finally stopped once I had turned her head around twice. Now her eyes stared outward in perfect, glassy symmetry. 

I reached into my bag and took out my meds. My doctor had always warned me not to take too many. “How many is too many?” I asked once. 

“Five,” he said.

But that won’t do because those five little pills will be looking up at me like seething eyes. The number needs to be smooth. So, I take ten just to be safe. And even.

And after swallowing them, I lay down on Kathy. Facing her. Our noses touched. Like twins. Side by side. Like two dolls. Nice. Even. Perfect.