Soul Mates

by John R. Little

  Oh, crap, she thought.

  Her parents refused to help her, but she didn’t really care. She used her smile on Brian Clark, who didn’t want to lose fucking privileges since he rarely got any elsewhere. He asked her to move in with him, and they eventually married.

  None of that stopped Marianne from perfecting her flirting. After all, Brian was just one guy. She needed more. She kept the smile and wide eyes going whenever she wanted to have a bit of fun. She liked having men notice her, and whenever Brian wasn’t nearby, she’d use her skills to attract whoever was handy.

  Sometimes it didn’t go beyond harmless puppy-dog stares from the guys she focused on. She liked knowing they wanted to fuck her, and it gave her the power to deny them.

  Once in a while, though, things went further. She’d find a way to lead them off to an alleyway or somewhere else private, and she’d make out with them for as long as she could. Having men fawn over her was the best feeling ever, and as the years went on, Brian became unimportant except as a source of family income.

  About every second or third year, she would sleep with one of the men she conquered, and that kept her satisfied for a while, until the urge came upon her again.

  Over the years, she became more careless, and she sometimes thought Brian suspected her of cheating, but she also cared less and less.

  Brian had hit the limit of his tolerance, however. He was growing insanely jealous of all the times he suspected his wife of cheating. His friends had sometimes wondered if she’d been stepping out on him, and that was just not something he could allow to continue.

  Finally, when Savannah and Alannah were sixteen, Brian decided he would no longer ignore it. Something had to happen.

  That night, Marianne left to go to do some unspecified chores, and Brian followed her to a motel on the edge of town. He saw her greeted by a stranger, and he saw that smile on her face as she went inside.

  Angered, he took his shotgun with him. He no longer cared what happened. The curtains were drawn so he couldn’t see inside, and he couldn’t hear anything, either.

  I know what you’re doing, you miserable bitch.

  He ran at the door and crashed into it with his shoulder. The cheap door sprung open, and he saw his wife lying in bed with the stranger.

  Just for a split second, she smiled, as if she had gained some type of fabulous satisfaction. The guy with her was pissing himself.

  Brian didn’t hesitate. Without a thought, he killed them both.

  The police arrived fifteen minutes later and found him sitting on the only chair in the room. The shotgun was lying on the bed, below the bodies. He admitted killing them and said he had no regrets.

  Two hours later, somebody at the police station phoned Savannah. That was when she decided she was going to leave her home and never return.

  The twins never knew what motivated their father to murder their mom. In their minds, it was irrelevant.

  Chapter 2

  2005

  Three years earlier.

  When Alannah Clark was thirteen years old and looked at herself in the mirror, she saw her twin sister, Savannah. The image looking back at her had long blonde hair, a thin body, long legs, and a killer smile. They both had learned from their mother how to use that smile to their advantage.

  None of Alannah’s friends had ever said it must be weird to live with somebody who looked exactly like her, but if they ever had, she would have replied, “It must be weird for you not to.”

  Sometimes she would try to imagine life without her twin, but she just couldn’t. It wasn’t just that they were born looking the same; they thought the same, too. They knew exactly what was going on with each other, even without sneaking a peek at each other’s diaries. (And, although both denied they did that, they both knew it was just one more secret they shared.)

  That’s where the similarities ended, though. They shared appearances and they shared understanding and they shared thoughts, but their personalities couldn’t have been more different.

  Alannah spent her summers wandering through the ghost town that was her local library. Nobody seemed to read books anymore, and she was often the only one in the quiet building. She liked that. The quiet comforted her, like a quilt she could snuggle into in front of a warm fireplace.

  Books enlightened her. Peace enveloped her in golden pleasure. Dealing with actual human beings, on the other hand, was a stressful chore. She was a gentle little soul who always felt inadequate, unless she happened to be pretending to be Savannah. Then she could somehow find the courage to fit in.

  That rarely happened, though. The twins enjoyed fooling others, but only rarely.

  One warm June day, she was just finishing skimming a new section of the stacks. She flipped through a couple dozen books on biogenetics, not really knowing what the heck it even was, and she finally decided to head back to the fiction section instead. That’s when she bumped into the boy.

  He was as startled as she was. He had his nose in a book and hadn’t been paying any more attention than she. Her bum smacked into his.

  Alannah stepped back with instant fear but almost immediately relaxed when she saw the same expression on his face. He was about her age or maybe a year older, dark brown hair neatly trimmed, wearing a white polo shirt with an emblem of some fancy clothing company that she didn’t recognize.

  “S-s-sorry,” he said. At first it sounded like he was whispering, but she nodded and smiled.

  “I was just—” She pointed in the general direction of fiction.

  “Oh, sure.”

  He pressed himself to the stack and let her pass.

  “Hey,” he said. “Are you Savannah?”

  “No, that’s my sister. Do you know her?”

  He shrugged. “I think you guys live near me. Over on Partridge Circle, right?”

  The Circle was exactly that. It was a road shaped like a ring that only had one connecting road joining it to the rest of the Aynsville. Most of the houses on the Circle backed onto forest, and the neighborhood kids spent much of their summers building forts and exploring the wilds.

  “What number?” she asked.

  “At 102.”

  “We live at 63. Opposite side, I guess.”

  They were both quiet for a few seconds.

  “Maybe I should go home,” said Alannah.

  “I can walk you. I’m Tom Gillespie.”

  “Alannah Clark.”

  * * *

  Over the next two weeks, Alannah and Tom became good friends. They liked to read and spend time walking through the forest together. Neither really cared much for groups, so they were happy to have an excuse to avoid them by hanging out together.

  Alannah wrote about Tom in her diary. Otherwise, Savannah might never have found out about him.

  * * *

  But Alannah did write about him, and Savannah did find out.

  At first, Savannah didn’t care. After all, she and her sister wrote nearly every detail of their lives in their diaries, like some weird competition to see who could write the biggest mass of boring, everyday details.

  Whenever Savannah was alone in their shared bedroom, she went to the bottom drawer and lifted Alannah’s diary from underneath the gaudy Christmas sweater that Aunt Alice gave her two winters earlier. These days, there were often entries about Tom. Tom and Alannah walked to the woods or they went to the library yet again or they found their way to the store and shared a Coke. It was nothing special, which is one reason Savannah zeroed in on it. How fun would it be to treat the “nothing special” boy to a surprise?

  She put the diary back and checked herself in the mirror, which she knew was stupid. Of course she looked exactly like her sister.

  She brushed her long blonde hair and practiced smiling at herself.

  The sun was shining brightly, and she was wearing a short-sleeved, light-green top with a matching skirt when she walked out and headed toward 102 Partridge Circle. At first she didn’t see Tom, but she stood on the sidewa
lk and looked up to see him wave at her from a top-floor window.

  Within a half minute, he was bounding out the front door.

  “Hey,” he said. “What’s up?”

  “Just wanted to see you,” she said. “I thought we could go for a walk.

  “Sure.”

  Tom smiled. His voice was soft and kind, and Savannah could see right away why her sister liked him.

  She took the lead and walked behind his house. There was no fence separating the property from the forest. One day there might be a whole new neighborhood built on the rough land, but for now, everyone on the Circle enjoyed the tranquility.

  Not too far from the Circle, there was a small pond. Savannah led Tom there and as they got closer, she reached for his hand. She smiled to herself after seeing the shocked look on his face when she did that.

  This is going to be fun.

  They got to the pond and looked across the water. In the distance, two wild ducks were swimming. Tiny circles spread out from mosquitos landing on the water.

  “It’s nice here,” she whispered, trying to sound meek and nervous, like her sister might.

  Tom didn’t reply, just nodded.

  She turned to face him.

  “Have you ever kissed a girl?”

  His eyes grew wide.

  She wanted to laugh at his fear, but instead she just smiled. When he didn’t answer, she moved toward him and pulled his head close.

  Savannah had never kissed a boy, either, but that didn’t bother her in the slightest. In her mind, she was now Alannah.

  She guided Tom’s face to hers. His lips were dry. She kissed him and then licked his lips. He kissed her back.

  He really liked it.

  She put her arms around his neck, trying to remember what she’d seen in movies and television. She started to get a bit scared but then remembered the fun that she was sure would happen the next time Tom was alone with Alannah.

  Open your mouth, she told herself. That’s the way they always do it in the movies.

  But she didn’t have the courage to go that far.

  Fortunately, Tom had watched movies, too, and she felt his lips part. His tongue moved awkwardly between her lips, and she thought it was about the most gross thing she’d ever felt.

  She reached out with her own tongue, and she almost started to laugh when they touched.

  They kissed for several minutes and he moved his arms behind her back, pulling her to him.

  Oh, my.

  She felt his erection pressing against her, and it took all her willpower to not just slap him and run away. She’d heard about boners but had never felt one.

  Curious in spite of her fear, she reached to the front of his shorts and pressed her hand against his cock. He made a whimpering sound but didn’t stop kissing her.

  Can I?

  She rubbed his pants and then decided to go for it. She undid the button at the top of his zipper and reached her hand inside.

  When she touched him, he moaned and kissed her harder. She wondered if he wanted to touch her in her private places, too, but he kept still, as if he were a statue. She felt his cock and squeezed his balls lightly.

  Suddenly, he groaned and bent over a bit. Her hand was sticky, and she pulled it out and broke the kiss.

  “Ohmygod,” he said. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

  She rubbed her hand on the grass and smiled at him.

  “Don’t worry. I liked it.”

  That was the grossest thing ever.

  He buttoned his shorts.

  “I should maybe clean myself,” he said.

  She nodded.

  They walked out of the forest, not talking, not touching, each wearing a smile. His was real. Hers was, too, but not for the same reason.

  “Next time, you be sure to touch me, too,” she whispered when they got to his house. “It’ll be even better.”

  His smile grew wide.

  “I want that,” he said.

  “Me, too.”

  * * *

  Two days later, Savannah dug out Alannah’s diary and flipped to the most recent entry, which had been written the night before.

  * * *

  Tom was at the library today, but I only saw him for a few minutes. He had this weird grin on his face, but whatever.

  I really wanted to just be alone and browse books, so I told him that. He said he just wanted a minute, so I sighed and sat with him.

  He gave me a locket.

  A locket? Why? I told him it’s not my birthday or anything, but he just gave me that goofy grin again. The locket had a letter A engraved on it.

  The A is for Alannah? I didn’t really ask, more like told him, but it turns out I was wrong. He said it stands for Angel. He said I’m like an angel to him.

  The whole thing was getting just a little weird, but I do kind of like it. It’s gold and the A has this funny style, like old-fashioned writing or something. I told him thanks, and I patted his arm and he giggled like a girl. I really just wanted to get away so I put the locket in my pocket and went to find the astronomy section. I wanted to find out more about comets, ‘cause there’s been something about a comet in the news.

  * * *

  Savannah put the diary back and found the locket, also buried in the same drawer.

  “A for Angel, huh?”

  She felt a tug of disappointment. Nobody had ever given her a locket.

  “If they had, it would be S . . . not for Savannah, but for Shit-Disturber,” she whispered.

  She put it back and closed the drawer.

  After another couple of days passed, she checked the diary again. There was nothing written in it. Another week passed and still no new entry.

  Of course, Savannah could never ask Alannah what was up.

  The diary stayed empty for two weeks. And Savannah never saw the locket again. It had been swept out the door along with the memory of Tom.

  She smiled when Alannah started writing in her diary again, never again mentioning Tom.

  Later that summer, Savannah did buy herself a locket with the letter S. She liked it.

  Chapter 3

  2008

  Alannah Clark had always enjoyed living in upstate New York, but when her father murdered her mother, she agreed with Savannah that a change would be good.

  Not just good—mandatory. She never wanted to see him again, and besides, there were too many memories of her mother haunting her there.

  The twins left their home that morning with no end in sight. Neither had ever left the state before. Alannah was scared. If it’d been completely up to her, she probably would have procrastinated long enough to eventually decide to stick it out.

  Savannah had no such hesitation. Once she had an idea in her mind, it was time to execute it. Alannah always, always did what her twin did. There was no need to ponder about right and wrong. She just followed her sister. Period. She liked that. It wasn’t her nature to be a leader, and that was just fine with her.

  They started by walking south. Both carried backpacks stuffed with a few clothes and even fewer keepsakes from their former home. Between them they had about $200. They had just passed their sixteenth birthdays.

  Savannah wasn’t worried in the slightest.

  Alannah wasn’t worried either, but only because she knew her sister would make things work out. She walked on the side of the road leading out of town. They hadn’t talked about a specific strategy, but I-90 was only about ten miles south and it seemed like the best place to catch a ride.

  A ride to where? wondered Alannah.

  The morning sun beat down on them. Alannah wore dark glasses and a light blue cap that matched her T-shirt. She wore a slightly darker color of shorts and her well-worn sneakers. She was used to walking, and she loved the quiet of nature, so the trip south was actually enjoyable.

  At times, she felt guilty about leaving the place where her mother was buried, but that never lasted long. Mom would have understood that they needed to get away
from their father. Staying in the town where he was in jail for murdering her wasn’t an option. What if he got out on parole? Even if he stayed in jail, would he expect them to visit him? The thought of that made her shake with anger.

  I’ll never see you again.

  She knew what they needed: a fresh start. And they were on their way.

  As they walked, a couple of cars passed, but they didn’t try to hitch a ride. Getting to the 90 was the easy part, and they did it within three hours, even taking a rest break about halfway.

  Alannah knew that they’d have little trouble catching a ride on the interstate. She just took off her sunglasses and cap and wore a big smile whenever a car drove by. It was something she’d learned from Savannah.

  Sure enough, they had a ride within ten minutes, from a college boy who was almost as nervous as Alannah was. He only took them the first fifty miles of their journey, but they never had to wait long for a new ride.

  At the end of the day, they found themselves in the southern Minnesota. Their smiles had gotten them that far and also encouraged the drivers treat them to lunch at McDonald’s and dinner at Arby’s.

  The cooler night air made Alannah happy. Most of the cars they’d been in hadn’t been air conditioned.

  They stayed at a cheap motel. Alannah didn’t watch when Savannah took over and went into the office. She didn’t come back out for an hour and she carried a key to one of the rooms.

  That night, Alannah slept peacefully. She dreamed about when she had been a little girl and her mom had squatted on the floor to play with her Barbie alongside her. It was a nice dream, and when she woke the following morning, she kept her eyes closed and soaked in the memory. She wasn’t completely sure how much of the memory was real and how much was wishful thinking, but it warmed her heart.

  “I miss you, Mom,” she whispered.

  A phrase flashed through her mind: A agua esta fria.

  She lurched to sit up.

  What?