The Siamese Twins

The aura in the house was quiet and windy. The only noise pervading the house was the loud silence emanating from the two of us. The TV was off. She was seated in a reclining chair on one end of the living room, busy on her muted smartphone. I was sitting on a couch, engrossed in a mystery. We were Siamese twins, conjoined by nuptials, but swimming in an icy ocean that three months earlier had been our hot bath.

Our real journey had begun nine months prior. We had tied the knot in a very elaborate ceremony. Friends from diverse walks of life were in attendance. Her bridesmaid, Nancy, was her colleague at a leading accountancy firm. Some of her colleagues were attending too, and so were mine. My best man, Eddy, was our local Senator.

Both of us had said “I do” in the pastor-led vows. We had solemnly promised to be faithful to each other. We had vowed to be together in health and in sickness, in prosperity and in poverty, “till death do us part.”

The presiding pastor had been very fatherly. He had said to her, “Sharon, the house you two are building is your house. You are the light of this house. Be the gleaming petal that illuminates a glamorous dawn. Be the red rose that springs in June and tastes sweet to the eye. Be kind and subservient to your husband. You are the mother chicken; keep him under the snugness of your wings. Own him jealously – he is now all yours.”

He had then turned to me. “Congratulations, Philip! The bible tells us that ‘He who finds a wife finds a good thing, and obtains favour from the Lord.’ This is a good thing you have here. It’s a jewel that you must diligently cherish. It is a rare diamond, yet fragile; tend it graciously and with utmost care. Initiate dialogue where there is a misunderstanding. You are the pillar in this house and your rigidity is vital - maintain it. Go out of your way to keep it erect at all times.”

Turning to both of us, he had said, “You are now an alloy. Remain on an even keel irrespective of the circumstances. You need each other during good times and bleak times. Be a shoulder that the other can lean on. Talk to one another not to each other. Lend each other an ear. Seek counsel where necessary. You have lighted a fire and it behoves the two of you to keep the flame burning. Have your tinderbox with you at all times. Needless to say, we, the witnesses of this ceremony, will be watching you”

We had dated for two years. We had saved for a year to have a colourful wedding, subsequent to my proposal. And indeed we had achieved that. People hailed the wedding as a classic. A lot of them kept paying us visits in our home thereafter – I suppose to benchmark. So we were basking in glory. Our house was full of sunshine. We went shopping together and tended our perennially blooming marigolds in the backyard garden together. We picnicked a lot too in lavender-filled meadows. To say that she and I were as snug as a bug in a rug might be an understatement. I think we were cosier. We were the perfect couple.

Our twinning started lacking sunshine six months after our union. It had so happened that Sharon and I had planned to meet at the parking lot of the Lilac Superstore. I had arrived some fifteen minutes to the appointed time. For some reason, she had arrived earlier and was already in the supermarket. While waiting for Sharon to arrive, Nancy appeared from nowhere and we exchanged greetings.

In the course of our chit-chat, she asked if I would mind to fasten her zip fastener at the back of her blouse.

“I don’t know how it slid down,” she had said, “but I have been trying to work it up in vain.”

“I don’t mind,” I said. “I’ll fix it for you.”  

I gave it a try but it was stuck.

“I’m afraid it’s jammed,” I said.

“Please give it another try. It’s embarrassing me.”

Just then, Sharon approached us and without salutations gazed directly at me.

“I can see you two are busy,” she said, an agitated look on her face.

“Hello, Sharon! I asked him to fix my…” Nancy attempted to say.

“I’m sorry I gatecrashed,” Sharon interjected, not even trying to hide the irritation in her demeanour. “I’ll see you guys later,” she snapped and walked off.

We were lost for words.

“What’s the meaning of this?” I asked nobody in particular.

“I have never seen a live tiger before,” Sharon said. “She suspects we were up to something.”

“But there was nothing private. We are in the open.”

“Go tell it to the birds,” Sharon said.

“She should at least have lingered over to find out what was happening?”

I came to learn later that Sharon had all along suspected that Nancy and I had a romantic relation. She had now confirmed.

Later that evening, our paradise turned into a dystopia.

“I have always suspected the two of you,” she had told me. “But I was waiting to catch you two. The way she tells me how good a husband you are, how smart you are, how she would give anything to have a man like you… What does that tell me? I can give you a divorce so that you marry her.”

“There’s nothing between us,” I had pleaded. “I was only fixing her zip and we have never met alone.”

“And you expect me to buy that?”

I tried my best to dissuade her from her conviction to no avail. She adapted silence. When I realized that I was flogging a dead horse, I joined her in the world of silence. A small insignificant incident had turned our world upside down.

The things we used to do together came to a screeching halt. I would shop and she would shop. Sometimes we duplicated our shopping because there was no coordination. Each of us cooked when they felt hungry. Our untended marigolds started withering. The sunshine escaped through the window and ushered a misty cloud. My cherished jewel was gradually turning into stone.

On this evening, the conjoined twins were mum to each other as was the new norm. Through the recently established haze in the house, I could still make out her beauty and elegance as she fiddled with her phone. But the aura of gloom persisted.

At about 8.00 p.m., we heard some scratch-like sounds on the front door. She scampered from her reclining chair and joined me on the couch. She gripped me tightly on my left shoulder.

 You need each other during good times and bleak times, pastor’s words reverberated through my mind.

“Who could that be?” I wondered aloud.

“I’m not sure,” she said, still trembling.

I had no weapon in the house! I put the security light on and peeped through the window. Nothing. Then we had a can roll at the back of the house - no doubt the dustbin in the backyard.

“Must be a stray dog,” I said.

“Thank God,” she said with a sigh of relief. Then, surprisingly, she added, “Can I make you a cup of tea?”

Those were the sweetest words I had heard in three months. We might be poised for sunshine again.

“Maybe coffee,” I said. “Thank you.”

She darted to the kitchen. I resumed my reading but was grasping nothing. Then a scream rent the air from the kitchen.

I rushed to the kitchen. She was cowering on one end of the kitchen. At the entrance of the back kitchen door was a male grizzly bear staring at her, menacingly. I had no weapon. I grabbed the boiling pot of water from the gas cooker and splashed the contents on the intruder. He hobbled away, howling.

She rushed to me and embraced me, tightly. We may have been too stubborn to admit it, but we still needed each other.