The Rarest Realist Twins

“This is the right house,” Kara’s dad said, stopping the gray Suburban at the corner. Kara hesitated for a second, looking at the fraying yellow color of the house outside her window. The rain did nothing to improve the view. 

“Kara, I need you to get out,” her dad said, on the edge of impatient, “I’ve got a meeting in an hour, and- “

“I’m going,” Kara said, unbuckling and grabbing her umbrella, “They know I’m coming, right?” 

“Oh, yes,” he said, “I’m sure, I called them last night.”

“Mmkay,” she said in an even tone, “I’ll see you at 7, then.”

“Behave!” he called out as she opened her umbrella up and started walking up to the house.

“I’m not seven, Dad!” she rolled her eyes. It was bad enough that he didn’t trust her enough to stay by herself, but her phone had died on the way here, too.

She slowed as the doorway came closer, unsure if she wanted to go in. She wasn’t scared in the slightest, but her aunts were… eccentric. Their house always smelled like intense ChexMix, which made her sneeze, and they had never seemed to outgrow the phase of having matching clothes. They were nearing 60, and they still exchanged outfits each day.

She finally knocked on the door, which almost immediately opened.

“Kris!” she heard her Aunt Betty say. Aunt Betty was definitely the crazier twin; cliff diving was her favorite, and when she’d gotten her first white hair, she decided to dye it all a bright orange, despite her natural shade being a dirty brown. 

“She means Kara, of course, she loves her little joke,” Aunt Mary said, smiling at Kara. She had silver hair, and preferred keeping her feet firmly planted on the ground, but she still had her quirks, like her refusal to eat fruit. She also liked correcting her twin, especially since they moved in together ten years ago, when both their husbands died in the coal mine they worked at together.

“Mm,” Kara said, smiling thinly, “I can tell, she tells it every time she sees me.”

“So, have you eaten?” Betty asked selectively ignoring her last comment, “We have fresh biscuits,” - “Croissants,” Mary corrected - “And cream of mushroom gravy -” “Cream of celery,” Mary butted in, “But yes, we have breakfast.

“Cool,” Kara said, stepping inside, her nose immediately catching the sharp scent of peppers and popped rice. Her aunts never had explained the smell.

They walked into the kitchen, passing the cabinets of kitschy antiques, like seashells and little ceramic church choirs. 

“We were waiting for you,” Mary said, pulling Kara’s chair out for her, “We actually made our breakfast a half-hour ago.”

“Oh, I’m sorry to have kept you waiting,” Kara said, trying to calculate the appropriate response for that, “My dad and I were going to McDonald’s -”

“To get trash for breakfast? I think not,” Aunt Betty said, her orange hair slightly glinting in the light. 

“We’re glad you’re eating with us, is what she means,” Aunt Mary said. They began eating.

“So do you still like Guess Who?” Aunt Betty asked

“It’s kind of a kid’s game, isn’t it?” Kara said, swallowing.

“Well, yes, but we enjoy a round every so often,” Aunt Betty said

“She just likes it because one of them looks like her,” Aunt Mary explained.

“I’m actually kind of tired,” Kara said and she sneezed, “Can I lay down?”

“Oh, yes, our couch is over there,” Aunt Mary said, “Here, I’ll grab you a blanket.” She walked swiftly into the other room as Aunt Betty took the dirty dishes into the kitchen. 

 Kara lied on the couch, and curled up, her stomach unsettled. She tried sleeping, but ended up just closing her eyes so her aunts wouldn’t talk to her. She knew it was rude, but their conversations were so horribly awkward it was preferable to pretend to sleep on a worn-out couch, covered in a smelly blanket. 

After what felt like a long time, she finally fell into an unrestful sleep. 

When she peeked her eyes open. When she didn’t see her aunts, she got up slowly, anxious to be alone in the house. She walked slowly up the stairs to the second story, and heard for any noise. 

She finally heard a clattering from the story above, and walked down the hallway. She stopped at the ladder connected to the hole in the ceiling, which she was sure went to the attic. She climbed up, almost tripping over the missing rung. 

“Aunt Betty?” she asked, and heard a snarl in response. Eyebrows crinkling, she went a few more steps upward, before Aunt Mary’s head appeared in the hole. 

“Hi,” she said, “Our mangy cat got in here, we’re trying to get her off our old James Taylor records.”

“Oh,” Kara said, “Can I come up?” 

“Oh, sure,” her aunt said, grabbing a broom from the opposite side of the hole. Kara heard another shriek before she got up, and when she reached the not-so-sturdy floor, she saw her Aunt Betty lying on the floor. 

“The dang cat tripped me,” she explained, as Aunt Mary helped her up, “I toldja we should’ve gotten a dog.”

“At least a cat eats mice,” Aunt Mary said, “A dog is more impractical.”

“Practical, my foot,” Aunt Betty muttered, scowling, “You say that when you have to pay for my medical bills after that darn cat’s finished.”

“Oh, settle down,” Aunt Mary said, “Kara, would you like to look at some of our old yearbooks?” she pointed at a medium-sized box a few feet from where she stood.

“Sure,” Kara said, “I thought you guys were homeschooled, though.”

“We were, they were our brother's’,” Aunt Betty said, "A bit worn."

“That’s okay,” Kara said, bringing the top one closer to her before opening it.

“Hey, it’s you!” she said, pointing at a homecoming picture.  

“Oh, I remember that night,” Mary said, “It was all going well until Betty threw up all over her dress in the bathroom."

“How was I to know I’d have the stomach flu?” Aunt Betty asked, “She just loves telling that story.”

“Well, you dragged me home with you, when I was having a wonderful time -”

“Is that Uncle Carter?” Kara asked, interrupting their squabble.

“Oh yes, wasn’t he so handsome?” Aunt Mary beamed. 

“He looked like a Muppet, and that’s complimenting him,” Aunt Betty said, “My husband was a lot of things, but a looker he was not.” Aunt Mary rolled her eyes.

“No surprise, then, why he asked you out,” she said, and ducked as Betty tried to slap her arm.

“Can I bring this downstairs?” Kara asked, looking at the photograph.

“Sure, dear, we still have to get Mango,” Aunt Mary said, “Watch your step down.”

“Yes’m,” Kara said, climbing down slowly. 

She finally landed on safe ground, and breathed a short sigh of relief. She looked down the hallway, and saw a door cracked slightly ajar. 

She peeked inside, where there was a poofy couch, with a velvet armchair and a couple of bookshelves. She went inside, and sat down, fingering through the pictures.

“Hmm,” she said, turning back to the Homecoming picture. Her aunt Betty did look unwell, and almost angry. She did look angry, Kara shivered, more than angry. She looked murderous. 

Kara couldn’t help but flip back to that page every few seconds and stare at her aunt Betty, chills running through her. 

She finally couldn’t take it anymore and slammed the book, standing up. She walked to put it on the shelf, and stuffed it in between two hand-bound books. Curious, she grabbed both of them, leaving the yearbook to sway to its left. 

She sat back down, tucking her knees under her. She opened the first book. 

It started with the illustration of a bear, on its hind legs; Kara knew it was probably a grizzly bear, just from the sheer size of it. impressed by the artwork, she turned the pages, as the bear slowly got thinner and smaller, and on the last page, it resembled a human child. She read the caption, a ajfleen. 

Her mouth curved upwards; it was like Arthur Spiderwick’s field guide. That was one of her favorite series. This must’ve just been one of her uncles’ projects, before they died. 

She reached for the second book, and opened it eagerly, looking at the first page. It was a diagram of a forest, and as she flashed through the rest of the book, she saw that the rest of the pages were blow-ups of the parts of the forest. With them was the explanation of which places in the forest helped the aifleen transform back into a human fastest, and the safest place in the forest for an aifleen to go.

She read both books cover to cover, before she heard her aunts calling for lunch. She placed them on the bookshelf, pulling them out a bit so she could come back to them.

“Well where’ve you been hiding?” 

“Oh, I went into one of the second -story rooms,” Kara said, “It had a velvet armchair.”

“Oh that’s just all the stuff I didn’t sell when your uncle Carter died,” Aunt Betty said, “It’s just storage.”

“He was a good illustrator,” Kara said, as they sat down to tuna fish sandwiches. She sneezed, and blew her nose before continuing, “I saw his picture of an aifleen, it looked so realistic. He was a good storyteller too. Did he ever talk about the aifleens?”

Aunt Betty coughed, “No, he didn’t, but I searched his things when he died, and I found those diaries.”

“Hey, did you ever find Mango?” she asked, taking another sandwich.

“No, the cat just hid in one of the boxes,” Aunt Mary said, “So what do you want to do after lunch?”

“Oh, I was just going to read some more of Uncle Carter’s books,” Kara said.

“Oh dear, they’re all pretty much the same,” Aunt Betty said, “Why don’t you play a game with us, instead?”

“Er, okay,” Kara said, and she helped her aunt Mary clear the table as Aunt Betty set up Guess Who for two of them. 

She watched as her aunts bickered over the technicalities of the game, and after a few rounds of playing winner (which was usually Aunt Mary), she was so bored she was pretty sure watching a fly die would be more entertaining.

“Hey, I forgot to take the yearbook back up to the attic, could I?” she said, already rising from her seat. Her aunts said nothing, engrossed in the game

She slipped upstairs, and into the storage room. She brought out the yearbook, and her uncle’s homemade books, in case she found some like it in the attic. She thought it was fascinating, that her uncle had such a vivid imagination. 

As she climbed up into the attic, she heard a growling sound. It was probably Mango, she thought as she climbed farther up. However, she forgot about the missing rung, and toppled down the ladder, shaking the whole house. 

“Kara?!” she heard Aunt Betty yell frantically, and faintly heard the swift padding of feet as her aunts ran up the stairs. 

Aunt Mary said, “Beth, hurry!”

“Carter!” Betty yelled, as they reached the landing, “No!” 

“Betty she’s right there!” Mary said, pointing at Kara.

“What is going on?!” Kara asked, as the attic creaked, “Why’d she say Uncle Carter’s name?”

“Well - I - um -”

“Aunt Betty what’s going on?” Kara asked, looking back up at the attic. In a split-second, the hole was covered, and there was no time for Kara to duck as a paralyzing fear shook her body. 

Because falling down the ladder, straight towards her, was the monster from Uncle Carter’s books.

Kara’s heart stopped, or at least that’s what it felt like; and it seemed to make up for it the next second, going more than twice it’s usual pace. She started shaking with fear, as Aunt Betty hit the creature with a book, one of the books - Kara didn’t see which one, as Aunt Mary pushed her into a room hard enough to break open the door. Kara kicked it shut, hoping her aunts knew what they were doing. 

But what was happening? How could this happen? Aifleen’s weren’t real, they couldn’t be.

“Carter!” Aunt Betty shouted, cutting Kara’s thoughts off, “NO!” 

Kara’s ears strained to take in all the noise, when she suddenly heard a loud crash, as the doorway fell. In a second, it had her pinned down, the monster on top. Kara closed her eyes, heart racing, trying to brace herself for a swipe at her exposed body. 

She suddenly felt the pressing weight on her back become much lighter, and heard heavy breathing. As the aunts pulled the door off her, she felt strong arms pull her up. She turned around to see a man in his sixties, sporting swimming shorts. 

“Hi, Kara,” the man said, “I’m your uncle Carter.”

**********

“What?” Kara asked, mouth dry. Her cocoa stood in front of her, still untouched. 

“The aifleens aren’t fake,” Her uncle said, “They are indeed very real.”

“But what are they, exactly?” 

“Well,” Uncle Carter said, taking a look at aunt Betty before continuing, “It starts when a woman has twins, you see. In many, many cases, more than 99.99%, the babies are healthy, happy. But, from my research, sometimes when an egg divides, to create twins, another mutation is able to operate, causing extreme muscle fluctuation in one twin only. This makes an aifleen, and results in mood swings, migraines, and the occasional transformation into a hideous beast.” Aunt Betty winced. 

“So there’s lots of them?”

“In stark contrast, there’s actually only a few left,” Uncle Carter said, sipping his cocoa, “Modern day vaccines can help prevent it, so that’s why there’s been a decline in cases.”

“Wait, wait, aren’t you supposed to be dead?” Kara asked, her mind running on high speed.

"Technically, aren’t we all supposed to be dead?”

“Carter!” Mary said, “Her head already looks like it’s about to explode, stop playing!”

“Oh, but it takes the fun out of life,” Carter sighed, “Well, you see, after a while, the aifleen’s transformations get more unexpected. You never know when they’ll happen; it’s like a seizure. One day, er -” his voice thickened, “ -I was playing pool with my twin brother, Harrison, and I transformed. I killed him instantly.”

“Harrison was your husband,” Kara said to Mary, who nodded sadly. This story was obviously very hard on all of them even to tell.

“We decided that I couldn’t be around people anymore,” Carter said, almost choking up, “So we agreed to the story in the coal mine, and have been hiding here, ever since.”

“That’s who ‘Mango’ is,” Mary said.

“I feel weird, knowing this,” she admitted, pulling at her sleeves, “Now I'm going to wonder if all the twins at my school are aifleen’s.”

“Well, it’d be preferable if we had a convenient machine that zapped your memory,” Aunt Mary said, “But seeing as we don’t, I suppose that we’ll just have to remind you that if you tell anyone, they’ll laugh you off.”

“Most aifleen's are homeschooled, anyhow,” Aunt Betty said, “Carter managed to slip through high school without much trouble.

“Wait, so is one of my aunt’s an aifleen?” Kara asked. 

“I am," Betty said, "But mine transformations happened a lot in high school, not so much now. They're easier to deal with than Carter's, too."

“Well thanks a lot,” Carter said.

“Kara, do you have any more questions?” Aunt Mary asked.

Kara paused for a moment.“Is that why your house always smells like weird Chex-Mix?” she asked.

Aunt Betty burst out laughing, while Aunt Mary rolled her eyes. "I tried making it ONE time!" she said, "It's smelt like it ever since, I can't stand it!"