Gorgeous and Genius

Gorgeous and Genius were, respectively, the ugliest and dumbest set of twins that ever lived. People thought maybe they got mixed up at the hospital because Gorgeous turned out to be pretty darn smart and Genius was so pleasing to the eye that gazers would lose themselves and do embarrassing things like ogle, fall down, or forget how to speak. But their mama insisted that their names were right because “a girl is supposed to be pretty and a boy is supposed to be smart!”

And so it was that little Gorgeous would walk down the school halls and be teased mercilessly for her third eye and overly large lips. (The third eye wasn’t really an eye; it was a growth on her temple that twitched when she got angry, making it appear as if it were blinking.)

And Genius had all the girls (and a few bold boys) following him around the playground hoping for an accidental kiss. Never mind that he wouldn’t know how to spell his own name until well into puberty.

But the two stuck together, as twins do, and took care of one another through the good times and bad. And there were a lot of bad times.

Like the time Genius had to step in and save Gorgeous from a band of bullies in first grade. Gorgeous was sitting quietly by herself in the corner of the playground during recess, waiting for Genius to come back from the bathroom. (These trips always took him a lot longer than the other kids and she wouldn’t find out why until they were much older.) That’s when Torque the Tormenter and his friends wandered up, stabbed a few nasty insults at her, then pinned her to the ground face down. What they had planned for her next is thankfully a mystery because just as Gorgeous was running out of tears, Genius ran up on the boys and ripped them off his sister one by one the way you tear bananas off a bunch. Now, those bullies downright outnumbered the twins and probably could have won the fight if they had the wherewithal. But there was something about Genius that flustered even those boys, and they reluctantly took off, promising to finish the job later.

But Gorgeous wasn’t always the one who needed rescuing. There was the time Genius scooped all the neighbor’s prize koi out of their pond onto the grass because “they looked too wet.” (Genius almost drowned in a mud puddle that previous spring so one could surmise that had something to do with it, but we’ll never really know.) Gorgeous saw what he did about two seconds before the neighbor did and when the neighbor started unleashing hell on Genius, Gorgeous pointed her finger at a stray cat who happened to be crossing the fence. From that day forward, it was war between the neighbor and that poor hapless cat.

Life continued this way for the twins for some time: up and down and down and up, but they always managed to pull through together. Then, a few days after they turned eighteen, their mama died.

To say it was a shock would be an understatement. In Genius’ mind, mamas were supposed to live forever. And though Gorgeous was much savvier to the ubiety of death (she’d often contemplate it when she was feeling discouraged), she simply wasn’t thinking about losing her mother so soon. Mama was their rock, always there, ready to dispense unlimited cuddles and affirmations; she was their defender, their cheerleader. Her love was so pure and unconditional, it would make you weep if you were lucky enough to witness it. So when that thirty-pound bag of mail fell 10,000 feet from the sky and landed on Mama in front of the Pik-N-Sav, it sent waves through the town and hit the twins like a cannon ball shot straight at their hearts.

Gorgeous didn’t want to have a funeral. The pain was just too much and the loss too personal to share with anyone else. Besides, the townspeople were generally not very nice to her. If asked, she could recall with remarkable clarity all the times when complete strangers (and even a few family friends!) would make horrible comments about her looks. Some were outright rude and some were subtle, but Gorgeous picked up on every single one and they all stung the same. No, sir. A funeral just didn’t appeal to her.

Genius, on the other hand, latched onto the idea of a funeral as soon as the undertaker mentioned it—“a goin’-to-heaven party” he called it. Genius insisted that because he loved Mama so much, there must be a billion million others who loved her, too, and therefore, they should be given a chance to say their final goodbyes. What he said was true for the most part. A lot of people loved and respected Mama—at least up until she had the twins with no father in sight, and on the few occasions afterward when she only had Genius with her while running errands around town. They would stop and coo and insist on carrying her groceries. Some would even offer free babysitting services for the child. (When gazing upon Genius, they often forgot he had a corresponding sibling.) Yes sir, Genius’ experiences with the world were quite different from his sister’s.

Now, as Gorgeous was exactly one minute older than Genius, and as she was the wiser one, she herself tended to take on a bit of a motherly role with her brother. So after Genius begged for a funeral and made his heartfelt case, she came up with a compromise: they’d hold a simple service at home. No speeches, no casket, just a time and a place folks could come and express their condolences. And she reserved the right to shut it down at any time. Genius enthusiastically agreed.

The day of the service, Gorgeous felt the claws of anxiety tugging and twisting her insides. She stood stiff in the corner as Genius welcomed each person who walked through the door and even let them hug and kiss him for as long as they wanted. A few of them hugged a little too long and kissed him in places you might think inappropriate for the occasion, but he allowed it—all for the shared love of Mama.

Gorgeous tried to put on a welcoming face, but it was hard when most of the visitors would shower words of love and support all over Gorgeous and then merely nod to her without any eye contact before strolling over to the buffet. After about an hour of that, Gorgeous couldn’t take it anymore. Before, when she felt this bad, she’d run straight to her mother’s arms where her hurt would be stroked and squeezed and shushed right out of her. But this was never to happen again. The pain of the irony struck her very hard indeed.

Gorgeous wandered over to Genius, who was still in the thick of greeting the mourners lined up around the block, and whispered that she had forgotten to pick up something for the service and would be right back. Then she headed down to the big blue superstore to buy a gun and some bullets.

By the time she got back, most of the guests had gone. Genius was covered in lipstick and looked slightly bedraggled but satisfied all the same. He was grateful to have been able to see just how many people loved Mama the way he did. Of course, Gorgeous had her suspicions about why some of them really came, but she held her tongue.

When the last of the townsfolk finally left, Gorgeous suggested they sit outside on the back porch. After all, the stars were especially bright that night and Mama had always loved looking at the stars.

So they sat there on the steps, side by side, like when they were soft and innocent toddlers, and gazed at the sky. Genius reminisced about Mama and sometimes got so caught up in his stories that he’d start talking about going back with her to this place or that. Gorgeous nodded occasionally as if she were listening, but the truth was she was withdrawing deeper and deeper into herself. There was no arm strong enough or rope long enough to pull her out.

When Genius eventually ran out of things to remember out loud, Gorgeous told him she had to go inside. He didn’t put up an ounce of fuss, so she got up, opened the back door, and disappeared into the dark house.

Genius continued to stare into space, occasionally letting the stars blur in his eyes before snapping back into focus. Just as he began to wonder when his sister was coming back, a loud pop rang out behind him. It startled him, and he was scared, but then he remembered hearing that sound before. He’d heard it many times on the Fourth of July when there were fireworks. His heart fluttered and he smiled and stood up, searching the sky for the beautiful, glimmering sparkles that would surely appear.