Twin Souls

Chapter 5

Chapter 5

“So how’s the shifting going?”

I shoved another fork of turkey in my mouth, hoping to avoid the question.

“Tate?”

“Not too bad, Mum,” I muttered, wiping some sauce from my chin. Why did they always have to ask me in the middle of lunch? They knew I didn’t like talking about it, especially since there was no progress at all.

I glanced in slight envy at my younger brother, Evan, who was gurgling his water. Unlike me, he was perfectly capable of shifting into his dragon form. In fact, he was so good at it, he could even do a partial transformation or manipulate water in his human state. The little bubbles dancing around him were the perfect example.

And then there was… Me. The girl who choked on her water. What a disgrace.

“How’s Devon?”

“Good,” I replied, not really wanting to talk about him. Things had been weird the past days. Ever since the zoo, really. He kept glancing at me strangely. Maybe he believed I’d gone mental. I wouldn’t blame him. Hell, I thought I’d gone mental. That whole ‘Sian’ thing was just so strange. It felt too realistic. And according to Devon, he’d spent the rest of the afternoon with me in the zoo. But I sure as hell couldn’t remember it. Not the tigers we apparently visited, or the new father we met. No, all I could think off was the blonde and her gentle caresses. Her face kept playing in my head and I found my mind wander off. I’d seen her before, I was almost sure I had. But where? Why? Was it even real? Why couldn’t I recall it?

“Tate?”

“Huh?”

“How are things going at the hospital?”

“Oh… Good… I think.”

Dad cut off another slice of turkey and pushed it on my plate. “You should really eat more.”

“Yes, or you won’t be able to carry grandchildren,” Mum added, making me roll my eyes. They both knew I wasn’t ready for kids yet. Besides, what was the point? I couldn’t shift, and with my luck, I’d ruin Devon’s lineage as well.

“You should really go to the temple and pray to our ancestors,” Mum scolded, neatly folding her napkin.

“I doubt those old dead geezers can do anything for me,” I muttered, pushing the peas around on my plate. I hated peas. With a passion. Which my parents knew. Yet, they insisted on making them every time I came around.

“Tate, mind your language, young lady!” Mum hissed in a shrill voice. I rolled my eyes and pushed my plate away. They really put too much stock in our family temple. “I saw that!” she followed up, her nostrils flaring. Why were they so uptight? Or at least, why were they so uptight with me?

I glanced at my little brother who was still gurgling his water. The bubbles were now shaped in squares and were dancing in a line around his head. Highly improper, but my parents didn’t seem to mind. In fact, they almost seemed proud. But then again, could I really blame them? I was the only child that couldn’t shift. Not just theirs, in our whole community, I was the only person who hadn’t managed to transform yet. The outcast. It was really a miracle that Devon stuck by me all these years and protected me from all the dirty whispers and gossip.

It was no surprise why I didn’t like visiting my parents. Not that they’d understand. I threw my napkin on my cutlery and pushed myself out of my chair.

“Can I be excused?”

“But you only just got here?” Dad protested, glancing at Mum. He was the milder of the two and he seemed almost saddened to see me go. Almost. I knew he was just upset because I didn’t eat his garden peas.

“I think I need to go pray,” I announced, hoping they wouldn’t catch the sarcasm.

“I’m pleased to hear that, darling.”

Nope, she definitely didn’t catch it. Ah well, better for me.

I gave Evan a kiss on his cheek and ruffled his hair. “See you soon, big man.”

“Ahhh, okay… Bye Tay!” he waved, looking genuinely sad I was leaving. Well, at least one of them was.

The air was cold as it blew through the wooden gazebo.

“So, what do you think, Gramps?” I asked out loud, not aimed at anyone in particular. Cause there was nobody else here.

The wind answered with a silent nothing. Thought so. Talking to the dead was useless. A heap of old bones and withered skeletons weren’t really the answer to all my questions. But for some reason, our community seemed to think talking to them would give you luck. Not that it worked for me.

“See you later, Gramps,” I muttered, waving at all the graves of my ancestors. “Thanks for nothing.”

I traded the old gazebo for the mild chaos of the supermarket. It wasn’t my favourite thing to do, but Devon was at work. I couldn’t make him do the groceries as well. But what to buy?

I threw a weird looking root in my basket and a handful of hot peppers. I wasn’t too fond of spicy, but Devon loved it. He snacked on the peppers as if they were candy. It didn’t make kissing him very fun, but at least it made him happy.

Maybe I should try cooking for him tonight. If I did something simple like an oven dish, it wouldn’t be too bad, right? How much could you really mess up a casserole?

Two hours and a blackened oven dish later, I realised the answer to my earlier question was: a hell of a lot.

Exasperated, I threw the sponge at the wall. The stupid burned mushrooms were giving me a hard time. Why wasn’t there a little sticker that showed if the oven was in Fahrenheit or Celsius? That was just a fire hazard waiting to happen. And not my fault really.

I glared at the rubbery pieces of charcoal and searched the fridge for something else I could try and make. I wasn’t sure why I even bothered. I couldn’t cook for s**t. Looked like we were having take-out after all.

“Stupid mushrooms,” I muttered, carefully licking one of them to see if they were really inedible. The harsh taste of ash stabbed my tongue. Ugh. Definitely not safe for consumption.

Shit. That was nasty. In fact, it was making me a little dizzy. Blergh. Why did I lick the mushroom? Why, oh, why, Tate?

I closed my eyes and tried to stop the spinning in my head. Damn, all this because of a stupid burned vegetable? f**k. Now there was stabbing in my head. A thousand little needles were jabbing into my skull and the back of my neck.

That didn’t seem right. What was going on? Would I pass out again?

I pressed my hands against my eyes, hoping to relieve some of the pressure building. What was going on?