Abby's Twin

by Ann M. Martin

  “You’re making it right now?” I asked, surprised that events were moving so quickly.

  “Might as well,” Dr. Sherman said. “The two orthopedic residents who assist me are here today, and they will do it. It can take up to two weeks to make the actual brace once we have the mold, so there’s no sense delaying if we don’t have to.”

  “How long will I have to wear it?” Anna asked in a small voice.

  “Two years, maybe three. Twenty-three hours a day,” Dr. Sherman said, propping herself on the edge of her desk. “A lot of it will depend on you. If you wear your brace all the time and do the exercises I give you, it will go faster than if you don’t. We’ll X ray you every three months to see how your curve is doing. If it seems to be getting better, then eventually you can start wearing the brace part-time.

  “The low profile brace isn’t a delight,” she admitted frankly, “but you’ll get used to it quickly, Anna. If you have the right attitude, it won’t hold you back in any way.”

  “Will it hurt?” Anna asked.

  “No,” Dr. Sherman replied. “It may make you more comfortable. It will feel different, especially at first. If it chafes you can wear a soft undershirt between it and your skin. There won’t be any pain though.”

  “Will I be able to play the violin?”

  “Absolutely,” Dr. Sherman assured her. “There’s no reason why you can’t.”

  A young man with a strawberry blond ponytail stuck his head in the door. “Are you ready for us?” he asked cheerfully.

  “Ready,” Dr. Sherman said. She nodded for us to follow her out of the room and down the hall to another room.

  “I’m Dr. James,” the young resident said, when Dr. Sherman left. He handed Anna a blue cotton robe and two items that looked like two giant pairs of pantyhose. “Those are body stockings,” he explained. “Put them on, then put the robe over them to keep you warm. You can use the dressing room there.”

  “Why does she need two?” I asked.

  “The plaster will adhere to one and the other will protect her skin,” Dr. James explained.

  Anna took the things from him and disappeared into the closet-size space. In minutes, she returned dressed in the body stockings and robe.

  Dr. James explained what was going to happen next. “You’ll take off the robe and we’ll start putting strips of wet plaster on your torso,” he said.

  “Hey, Anna, you’ll look just like one of Claudia’s art projects,” I joked.

  “Lucky me,” Anna replied with a wry smile.

  “It’s a little cold and gooey, but it doesn’t hurt,” Dr. James assured her. “The worst problem you’ll have, Anna, is that you may feel tired from being still so long. We’ll work as fast as we can, but we really need you to hold still.”

  “Okay, I’ll do my best.”

  “Great,” Dr. James said.

  The second resident came in carrying a large tub of wet plaster. She was an African-American woman with short, black hair and a pretty face. “Hi, I’m Dr. Mays,” she announced pleasantly. “We can get started now.”

  Anna had to take off her robe and stay there in just the body stockings, holding onto a bar that was anchored to the wall, something like a ballet barre. The body stockings were sheer, and I could tell that Anna felt embarrassed, but Dr. James and Dr. Mays talked to her constantly as they worked, joking about people on TV, rock stars, and so forth.

  Mom and I sat on stools watching. Mom looked serious, but she broke into a quick smile from time to time.

  I tried to be lighthearted and joined in with the residents. Taking a banana from my backpack, I held it up as if it were a microphone. “And now for a special report on multicultural traditions,” I said, imitating a reporter. “I’m here interviewing Anna Stevenson, the world’s first human piñata.” Anna mostly rolled her eyes at my jokes, but at least it was taking her mind off things.

  “You guys look so much alike,” Dr. Mays commented as she knelt beside Anna, smoothing a plaster strip around her waist.

  “Thanks,” I said.

  “No, we don’t,” Anna said, our voices overlapping.

  Our eyes met in an awkward gaze. I felt hurt that Anna had denied we look alike. The expression on her face told me she wished she’d kept her mouth shut.

  “Well, I guess we look more alike now that Abby cut her hair,” Anna said quickly. Then she sighed. “But once I start wearing this brace we’ll look different again.”

  “Not that different,” Dr. James said as he dipped a long gauze strip into the tub of plaster. “You’ll just look slightly heavier because of the brace. But you’re so slim now it’s nothing to worry about.”

  “Will she need larger clothing?” Mom asked.

  “Probably one size larger, that’s all,” Dr. Mays replied. “Also, some girls who wear braces are more comfortable in pants that stretch at the waist.”

  “You’ll want to start wearing T-shirts or undershirts between you and the brace,” Dr. James added. “It will give you some padding, especially in the beginning, when you’re adjusting to the feel of it.”

  “They make great undershirts and camisoles nowadays,” Mom commented.

  “They sure do,” Dr. Mays agreed. “Besides, this winter’s been so cold, I wear a thermal undershirt over my bra just for the warmth.”

  While Mom and Dr. Mays discussed the wonders of thermal underwear, my mind raced. All this discussion about new clothing had given me a great idea. I knew the perfect way to cheer up Anna.

  I decided to set my plan in motion the moment we arrived home. It was a brilliant idea, and Anna was going to adore it!

  The first person I called for help was Stacey. She has awesome fashion sense.

  “Mom gave me two hundred dollars to spend,” I told Stacey over the phone the next day, Saturday. “I’m going to buy Anna an entire new wardrobe.”

  “Not for two hundred dollars you’re not,” Stacey disagreed. “But you can probably find her several nice new things, enough to start her off.”

  Two hundred dollars had seemed like a fortune when I approached Mom with my idea last night and she offered me the money.

  I saw Stacey’s point, though. Clothing is expensive, and even inexpensive clothing isn’t cheap.

  “If I’m careful I should be able to buy about ten things, don’t you think?” I asked hopefully.

  “Seven or eight,” Stacey speculated more cautiously. Since Stacey is not only a fashion pro but a math whiz, I took her word for it. Seven or eight new items would be good enough. I could just imagine Anna’s happy face when I presented the new clothing to her. It would be all bright, new, and ready to wear over her brace. It had to cheer her up.

  “So, will you come with me?” I asked Stacey.

  “Sure. You know me. I love to shop for clothes.”

  “Great. My mother will drive us to the mall. We’ll pick you up in a half hour,” I said before hanging up. With my hand still resting on the phone, I sat for a moment in the quiet kitchen. Anna and Mom were still asleep, which was unusual for them. But we’d arrived home late the night before.

  Yesterday, the mold had taken a while to dry. Sitting and sitting, just waiting, was hard for Anna. (It would have driven me completely out of my mind.) I tried to make the time go faster by sitting beside her and discussing the different sports stars featured in the office copies of Sports Illustrated. She didn’t seem all that interested, so I found a crossword puzzle in another magazine. We did that together for a while.

  When they finally sawed through the plaster cast, the mold looked really neat — an exact model of Anna’s body, every curve and bend of it.

  I was about to go upstairs and wake Mom when she appeared in the kitchen, already dressed. “Ready to go?” she asked, yawning.

  We left a note for Anna and climbed into the car. After picking up Stacey, Mom dropped us off at the mall.

  “We could try Laura Ashley,” Stacey suggested, gazing at the clothing store in front of us. “I think the cloth
es in there would fit Anna’s style.”

  I gazed at the mannequin in the front window. She was dressed in a floral print corduroy jumper over a ruffled blouse. “It looks kind of young, don’t you think?” I asked.

  “I’ve seen Anna wear Laura Ashley dresses before,” Stacey insisted.

  “Maybe. But the residents who made her brace suggested stretchy stuff. They said that would be the most comfortable over the brace.”

  “We could go to Macy’s or Lear’s,” Stacey suggested.

  “All right,” I agreed. “Lear’s is closest. Let’s start there.”

  After about an hour of shopping, I wondered if I’d overestimated Stacey’s fashion sense. I didn’t know what was wrong with her that morning. She kept selecting outfits that were kind of basic and plain. It wasn’t the way she dressed. I couldn’t tell what she was thinking.

  “I’m trying to picture Anna and pick outfits I can imagine her wearing,” Stacey explained after I’d rejected yet another of her choices, a simple black pull-on skirt.

  Obviously, she wasn’t picturing Anna very well. “Look at me,” I suggested. “I look just like her. Use me as your guide.”

  “But you’re not like Anna,” Stacey protested, draping the skirt over her arm.

  “Not like her? We’re twins! How much more alike can we be?”

  “But your personalities aren’t alike,” Stacey insisted.

  “I know, but what looks good on me would look good on her, right? We’re the same.”

  Stacey sighed and hung the skirt back on the rack. “If you say so.”

  “Besides, I don’t want to buy her drab, everyday stuff. I want to give Anna bright, fun things, clothes that will cheer her up. Come on,” I said, pulling Stacey by the arm. “The problem is we’re not in the right department.”

  “But we’re in Juniors.”

  “No. This is the right department,” I insisted, pointing to the sign ahead of us that read Junior Sportswear.

  “Abby,” Stacey began, “are you sure?”

  “Absolutely. The clothing here is stretchy and comfortable. And if she has the right clothes Anna will want to do her excercises.”

  It didn’t take long for me to spend that two hundred dollars. Stacey had been right about that.

  I was pleased with my choices, though. I bought Anna a silky jogging outfit in a bright pattern of blue and pink; a pair of shiny yellow bike pants; two big sweatshirts, one orange and one yellow (I figured she could wear them with the bike pants); a fuzzy purple sweatsuit; and a baseball cap. All the material was soft, and all the clothes were either stretchy or loose-fitting. I double-checked everything to make sure I’d chosen the right sizes. The colors were bright, so Anna would feel cheerful when she looked at herself. All in all, I thought I’d zeroed in on the perfect things.

  I paid for everything, and the bill came to two hundred and twelve dollars and twenty cents. Luckily, I had some of my baby-sitting money with me to pay for the extra. I didn’t mind spending it. The expression on Anna’s face would be well worth the money.

  I called Mom from a pay phone in Lear’s lobby and she left to pick us up. We window-shopped for a half hour, then went to meet her.

  “Can you believe it hasn’t snowed in four whole days, counting today?” Stacey commented on the way home, as she gazed out the car window.

  “Thank goodness,” Mom said, turning onto Elm Street, where Stacey lives.

  Stacey laughed. “My mom feels the same way. She’s sick of shoveling and worrying about getting to work on time. But I’m getting worried about our winter carnival plans. What if it doesn’t snow between now and then?”

  “Not snow in the next two weeks?” I scoffed. “The way this winter has been going? Not likely!”

  We pulled into Stacey’s driveway. “I suppose you’re right,” she said.

  “Thank you for your help,” I called as she climbed out of the car.

  “I didn’t do anything,” she said with a laugh. “You picked it all out.”

  “True,” I admitted. “But thanks for coming.”

  “You’re welcome. I hope Anna likes it all.”

  “She will.”

  “So you found some things Anna will like?” Mom said on the way home.

  “Definitely. Should we give them to her now, or wait until she has the brace?”

  “I don’t know. She did seem a bit down last night. Maybe she could use something to cheer her up right now.”

  “Okay!” I was excited about the clothes and would have found it hard to wait.

  When we arrived home, Anna was sitting at the kitchen table paging through a music magazine. “Hi,” she said, shifting her eyes up from the article she was reading. “Where’d you guys go?”

  “Didn’t you see my note?” Mom asked, looking at the note on the counter.

  Anna glanced at it. “Oh, I didn’t notice.”

  “We were at the mall,” I said, placing my shopping bags on top of her magazine. I was bursting with excitement. “Wait until you see what I bought for you!”

  “For me?” Anna asked.

  “Yes! Check it out!”

  Anna reached in and pulled the jogging suit out first. She looked a little bewildered. “This one isn’t for me, is it?”

  “Yeah,” I said.

  “But I don’t jog.”

  “You don’t have to jog,” I explained, pulling up a kitchen chair beside her. “It’s just something comfortable and pretty to wear.”

  Anna checked the tag. “But this isn’t my size.”

  Mom and I glanced at one another uncomfortably.

  “Oh, I forgot,” said Anna. “It will be.”

  “That doesn’t matter,” I said encouragingly. “Look at these!” I dug into the bag and found the yellow bike pants. “Aren’t they awesome? I bought shirts to match, too.” I laid them out on the table. “And here’s the finishing touch.” I took out the baseball hat and plunked it on her head. “You are going to look so outrageous that no one will even notice you’re a little bulkier.”

  Anna took off the cap and turned it in her hands. She looked down at it, then up at me. “Thanks, Abby. You’ve gone to a lot of trouble and I appreciate it a lot.”

  Despite her words she didn’t look very enthusiastic about the new clothing.

  If great new clothes didn’t cheer her up, then she was more depressed than I’d imagined.

  I was going to have to work even harder in the next few weeks to keep up her spirits.

  The next week seemed to drag on forever. Cheering someone up can be incredibly hard work. Anna didn’t complain a lot; she was just very quiet.

  The only thing she seemed to enjoy was playing her violin. And even that she did with a quiet intensity, as if she were simply glad to forget about everything and lose herself in the music. She may have been enjoying herself in her own way, but it didn’t look as if she were exactly having fun.

  I was determined to help her.

  Believe me, I tried.

  “The BSC winter carnival is coming up,” I reminded her one gray Saturday morning. “Remember, you’re working with Mary Anne in the hot chocolate booth.”

  “What are you talking about?” she asked, looking up from the book she was reading.

  “Don’t you remember? I told you, I volunteered you to work on the carnival.”

  “You did? Why?”

  “Because you need something to do, to take your mind off the brace.”

  “No, I don’t.”

  “Yes, you do. You haven’t done anything but hang around the house and read and watch TV and play the violin. You’re just brooding.”

  “I’m not brooding. I’m coming to terms with it, that’s all. Besides, it’s winter, Abby. It’s cold and miserable outside. What do you want me to do?”

  “Something fun! Like work on the winter carnival with me. It’ll be a blast.”

  Anna smiled, although she looked like she didn’t want to. “You’re too much,” she said. “You’re impossible
to say no to.”

  “That’s because you know I’m right.”

  Anna glanced out the window. “You’re not going to have much of a winter carnival if it doesn’t snow soon.”

  “It’ll snow,” I said confidently.

  On the following Saturday, Anna and Mom were scheduled to go to the city to pick up the brace. “When’s our train?” I asked.

  “Mom and I are going on the ten o’clock express,” Anna answered.

  “What do you mean, ’Mom and I’? I’m going, too.”

  Anna chewed on her lower lip and picked at a thread on her sweater. “Would you mind not coming?”

  “Not coming?” Had I heard her right? “Why not?”

  “I don’t know,” she replied, looking up at me. “I just want this to be over with, and somehow it seems like … like a much bigger deal when you’re around.”

  I didn’t understand this at all.

  “It has nothing to do with you,” Anna added quickly. “It’s me. Okay? I just need to do this my way.”

  “Sure. No problem.”

  After Anna and Mom left, I stood in the quiet house and a feeling of loneliness washed over me. It was horrible. I was hurt. I wanted to help Anna. So I called Kristy and, as I’d hoped she would, she invited me to her house. She and I spent the afternoon placing winter carnival fliers around our neighborhood.

  Mom and Anna were gone all day. It turned out that the brace had to be carefully fitted, with a million little adjustments that could only be made once Anna tried it on.

  By the time they returned home, they looked tired, especially Anna. “Let’s see it,” I said.

  Anna lifted up her shirt and I could see the molded plastic brace, which she was wearing over a thin sleeveless T-shirt. I nodded, not knowing what to say. We’d looked at plenty of pictures, but actually seeing it, up close and personal, was different. I swallowed hard.

  “It’s not as bad as it looks,” Anna said.

  “Can I try it on?” I asked, wanting to share this experience with Anna, to know what she would be going through. To make it easier for her, if I could.

  “I’d rather you didn’t,” Anna said.

  “Why not?”