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Taking a large gulp of mocha, I was able to break eye contact and recompose myself. She seemed to realize at that very moment she had shed a tear and gently dabbed it way. I was beginning to realize that the amount of angst I had stored away was even greater than I had ever thought.

Considering that, I could either continue my paranoia, or I could take a chance and form a confidence with Elise. My instincts for people were amazingly accurate, but certainly not 100%. Eventually, paranoia would cause me to burn up like old grass in a Texas summer. Equally, opening up could leave me vulnerable to any number of threats and attacks. My mind was racing as I watched her only in my peripheral vision as I stared at my cup.

She swallowed nervously several times and then sipped her latte. Removing a compact from her purse, she checked her face and realized that there had been no real damage from the one tear. As she put it away, she cleared her throat as if she was putting an old farm tractor into gear.

She took one more sip, for whatever moral support it offered, I suppose, then spoke, “Misty, I do not know if this will make any difference to you about anything at all, but I think I should explain myself. My mom came from a really large family. She has, umm, had 5 brothers and 7 sisters. I guess my grandmother was really prone to multiple births. My Aunt Sybil and Uncle David were the oldest. My Aunt Elizabeth was next, only 14 months later. My Aunt Joan, Aunt Lydia, and Aunt Sophia were next, missing have the same birthday, 3 years later by only being a week later than Aunt Elizabeth's. Uncle Joe was not quite 2 years later. Grandfather was called back to the Navy for some secret work for 18 months so the next babies were over 5 years later, when Aunt Lisa, Uncle Robert, and Aunt Ruth were born. Mom was born next, with Uncle Tommy, and finally Uncle William and Uncle Ted were born.”

She took a small sip of her latte, then impulsively drained the cup and focused on the top of my head, as I was still looking downward. “Uncle Tommy was not like the other boys. He had asthma when he was born, and was pretty sickly. Later he put on weight and by the time he could crawl, he was nearly as big as mom. In the pictures I have seen, they look like they are 3 months apart in age because she was that much larger. He walked before mom, though, and talked, too. And he was potty trained before he was 18 months old. My grandmother did not do a thing. Uncle Tommy just hated diapers so he trained himself. By the time he was three, he was reading as well or better than Aunt Lisa, Uncle Robert, and Aunt Ruth.”

I waved her down and went and got us refills and a biscotti apiece. I sat back down, passing her share to her and stared at my cup again, still not willing to commit one way or the other.

She started stirring her latte with her biscotti as she resumed her tale. “Grandmother knew he was special and went and, umm... convinced the local school administration that they were going to enroll Tommy at age 4. Now this was a long time ago. Before pre-school, before kindergarten, before HeadStart. He was obviously the smartest kid in his first grade class. The only reason he was not promoted directly to the third grade was because they just could not bring themselves to have a 5 year old in with a bunch of 7 and 8 year olds. He should have been really bored in the second grade, but the teacher gave him a lot of various art projects to do to keep him busy. He could draw like anything! He could also sculpt and carve and even tried macramé, which was no challenge for him. She also had him reading on the sixth grade level. If the school administration had known, they might have had coronaries. When it came time to promote, she showed them all the special tests and evaluations she had given him and basically pitched a royal fit until the put him in the fifth grade. She really thought he should be in high school, but the school was, reasonably, worried about bullies and maybe Tommy being completely ostracized.”

I risked a quick blink her direction but she stopped and took a nibble of her biscotti. I decided she was onto something and started soaking mine, too.

She resumed her story, “What they did not bank on, was that Tommy was a natural helper. When one kid was going to give him problems, Tommy negotiated with him. He explained some shortcuts for math class and suddenly he had a dedicated protector. It did not take long for word to get around that Tommy could help anyone with any subject. Not only would you have correct homework to turn in, you would usually do much better on tests, too. The teachers were concerned, at first, then realized he was not doing their work for them. He was actually tutoring them and helping them grasp the material. He went through the fifth grade at ages 6 and 7, ages normally seen in the second grade. He was as tall as Mom, now, but stick thin. He still had a lot of health issues but was far, far, too stubborn to let them keep him from school.”

She stopped for another bite of biscotti and a couple sips of latte. She was really, really into the story, but I could tell she was having to fight for every word. I was pretty sure I would not like the ending.

She ate the last nibble of biscotti and continued, “By now, the state had found out about him. Some people from the capitol came and tested him and realized he could easily do the high school math his fifth grade teacher had been slipping him, and was reading on a college level. He had not had any formal science or history classes, but scored college level in knowledge for both, from the extensive reading he had been encouraged to do. This was all at the end of his fifth grade year. He was 7. He started at the state university that fall. This was the first time he was really challenged, but he was in all honors classes. He has to really work for it, but he finished his freshman year with a 4.0 GPA. By now, Mom, his sister was really worried about him. My grandparents were too busy being proud he was doing so well, they did not think about the psychological aspects of a 7 year old being away from his parents so much and being with adults almost constantly, instead of children his age. But Mom did.”

I wasn't sure, because I was still only watching peripherally, but I think she shuddered then. She took a sip of latte, I think, to hide it, but the lid kept me from seeing if the surface was rippled.

She went back to talking like she had never stopped, “She kept asking to go see him or for him to come see her. Everyone just kept telling her that her brother was too important now and that she need to work on her studies so she could be smart, too. Honestly, she was nearly as gifted as Tommy, but she was no slouch, either. Right then, she was in the second grade. She put her entire life energy into impressing her teacher enough to skip a year. And it worked, too! People were only mildly surprised, after all, she was Tommy's twin.”

“Tommy went onto his sophomore year and took 20 hours both semesters. He still had not declared a major but every college at the university was courting him. The reason he took so many hours was not because he was in a hurry or because he was gung ho, he just wanted to figure out which field of study really appealed to him. Mom was so persistent, she got to see him a few times during this year. She still managed to go skip to the sixth grade. While she was visiting the university, she talked to one of Tommy's counselors and found out that Grandfather might could get a job on campus. He was ex-Navy and did many secret things. She kept pushing until he applied for work. Because of his security clearance, he was instantly hired and put to work in a defense related project. The family moved over the summer. By now, Aunt Sybil and Uncle David were seniors in high school. They were not exactly thrilled about moving from our old home town. The other siblings were at various levels of enthusiasm over the idea, but generally, the younger the happier because of the adventure factor. Overall, it as viewed as a good thing. Aunt Sybil and Uncle David had no problems having grades good enough to take advantage of the employees scholarship program, so they would be going to State the next fall. Grandfather was making almost three times the money he had been at the mill, plus he had state benefits. They had a much nicer house and the schools were all geared to offer the opportunity of accelerated learning because of the proximity of the university. This worked in mom's favor, as she went from the sixth grade to the ninth. Uncle Tommy finally declared a major in human biology. He was especially enthralled by the endocrine system.”

By now, Elise had been talking non-stop for a while and was getting pretty dry. It was getting to be almost 6 in the evening and the coffee house as beginning to get busy. I decided that we needed to continue this somewhere else. I normally did not get home until after 10PM so I had a while and because of the title she chose to use, and the lack of a wedding band, I was betting that Elise was not married. As she sipped her latte, I quietly suggested, “I have you a long way from your car, how about if I give you a ride back to campus, and you can continue to regale me with your very interesting saga of the days of yore in the car?”

We both nodded and I finished the last bite of biscotti and bussed our table as we left. I bought us each a bottle of water on the way out.

Once in the car, she resumed her story, “He took 18 hours both of his junior semesters, plus he had taken a few odd summer courses. By the end of his junior year, he had enough credits for a degree in general studies, and was only a few credits from a degree in Human Biology. That summer, he took Latin and German. I found out that a lot of chemistry texts are in German. He only took Latin because he thought it would make things easier to name if he ever made some kind of wonderful discovery.” She giggled nervously. “Mom didn't try to skip the tenth grade, after all, she was only 9. She was tired from trying to catch Tommy. At least now, she saw him almost everyday. He had quarters in a special dormitory on campus for younger and special needs students, but she rode her bicycle to see him most everyday. On Sundays, Tommy came home for Sunday lunch. He had a hard time fitting in with everyone but Mom. I suspect he really on did it to make her happy. Of course, at age 9, they were both still children. Mom was aware enough of the world to know that would not last much longer.”

We entered the freeway and she watched me work the manual transmission, then looked ahead and spoke again, “By the time she finished her tenth grade year, and he finished his senior year at the university, they were 10. She had started her growth spurt. He had been slightly taller than her at the beginning of the year, but she was easily an inch and a half taller at the end. He accepted another degree, this time the Human Biology degree he had really wanted. He immediately began making plans to simultaneously work on another degree in Chemistry, and also to enter Med school. The state intervened and encouraged him to get the degree in Chemistry. They wanted him to have a just a bit more life experience before he entered the special hell of med school. He agreed, but also got a degree in Italian, just to tweak a few noses. At the end of the school year, Mom was just over 2 inches taller than Tommy. They were 11. Grandmother had already started telling Mom about the birds and the bees, but Mom ended up giving Grandmother an anatomically explicit lecture, complete with back-of-napkin illustrations. She had audited some of Tommy's Human Biology classes and read a lot of his endocrinology texts.”

I laughed out loud at that mental picture and Elise grinned wryly as she sipped her bottle of water. I took a chance on entering the conversation. “I take it your mom was a bit of a... character?”

She was the one to laugh this time. “Anyone who could converse with Tommy was either a genius or a character, or both. I always thought Mom was both.”

I took another chance, “Judging by her daughter, I would have to wager in your favor.”

She colored mildly, which surprised me, actually. She covered her flush by continuing her story, “Mom turned out to be an early bloomer. She was no Dolly Parton, but she did have a nice figure. Her junior year in high school, which she finished at age 12, she definitely went from girl to young woman. What surprised everyone was that Tommy became just as curvaceous and feminine. By the time he accepted his 3rd and 4th degrees, he as almost the same height and size as his twin sister, right down to their bra sizes. There was an investigation, but no one was ever able to prove he did it to himself. He proclaimed, loudly, that it was all natural. Because of the furor, Mom's senior year in high school, while she was 12 and 13, the state again refused him entry into medical school. He gave in but warned them that if they refused him again, he would go elsewhere. Instead, he worked on a bachelors in Russian and a Masters in Chemistry. What was odd was he started looking for reasons to spend time with Mom. He began dressing like her and got her to cut her hair into a shorter style so they could look more alike. He asked to be called Tammy instead of Tommy.”

I coasted off of the freeway and downshifted my way onto the surface streets of home. She paused as I did until we got on the primary street to the campus.

“The crazy thing was, his ability to learn and absorb information and to theorize seemed to grow as he became more Mom's identical twin instead of her fraternal one. The second semester he started another degree plan for a Masters in Math. He, or by now everyone referred to her as she, did not even struggle. Three degrees at once, two of the graduate, and she was happy as a clam.”

“When Mom started as a freshman at State, studying economics, she and Tammy roomed together, as they were both 13. Tammy and Mom usually liked to dress as mirror images of each other. They moved exactly alike, sounded just alike, and looked so much alike there was no telling them apart if they had clothes on. Just to keep everyone guessing, the usually swapped clothes at least once per day. I am pretty sure they swapped classes, too. Mom was pretty sharp when she wanted to be. My grandparents were completely shattered that there genius son had gone girl on them. Mom, though, somehow made them understand that doing anything about it would destroy Tammy. By now the State had come to grips with the fact that Tammy had replaced Tommy, and, if anything, was a superior intellect.”

She stopped as I smoothly pulled into the parking slot next to her car. Her lips quirked again, “But can you handle that clutch as well in heels as you can in those Nike Airs?” (My work meant I walked a lot! The dress code was pretty liberal, as might be expected for a university, so I wore my Airs with the Shox heels.)

I decided modesty was in order, “Well, I think so, but I haven't tried in years.” I almost said “because I realized I was going to die ugly” but reconsidered in time to finish my phrase smoothly.

She seemed to go empathic on my for a moment, enough to realize what I did not say, and why, but let it pass. “I have broken more rules today and tonight than I have in my entire career. I am quite aware of the cast iron cupcake reputation I have in the office, though you might not have heard since you usually have your head buried in a computer or projector. I keep all my relations here strictly work, strictly professional. I still have no idea why I was, and am, worried about you. I just felt I had to make sure you were ok. Then, I found out about your little... hobby.”

She stopped again as a tear, then another dribbled down each cheek. I quickly produced a couple of fast food napkins from my stash in my car.

As she pulled down the visor to use the mirror to dab her face, she said in a quavering voice, “When Tammy was 14, while mom was in class and Tammy was in their room, for some reason, she went to the room of the dorm building and jumped off. A grounds crew saw the entire thing and all 5 of them swear she was alone. And she is still a vegetable in the State Hospital. No one knows why she decided to try to kill herself. She missed the concrete when a freak gust of wind blew her backwards and her head landed on the grass. Mom thinks my grandparents had tried to shame her into becoming Tommy, again. I do not know why I connected to you so easily and quickly, but if the same kind of thing happened with you, I would be a basket case. I know that is no excuse for me butting in, but there it is.”

At this point, my eyebrows were doing some kind of weird ballet as I was desperately trying to absorb not just the information but also the nuances of how she felt and meant it, as well as if she was sincere.

After a moment, I pulled the keys from the ignition and climbed out, going around to help her from my little sedan. As she alighted, I looked directly in her eyes to say, “Elise, I am honored you have taken an interest in me. I am not a machine, but that is how I often try to model my behavior and thought patterns. The more I ignore the touchy and the feely and the more I only monitor the data and the logic, the more I could be that machine. To help me along that path, you're correct, I buried myself in my studies and my work. I used to be oh so trusting. I was burned badly, more than once. So, now, I tend to be paranoid. I watch who is watching me. I take devious routes to see if anyone if following me. I vary my routine often. I do the unexpected as much as I can, just to see who is surprised, but, to my way of thinking, not to many people should even notice my activities to begin with, much less, notice a change.”

I shut the door behind her and walked with her around our cars to her drivers door and watched her unlock it. “I do not know why I do it, because when I, umm... had a change of... vision, I really had nothing to hide. I cut my hair, and well, purged. I gave away my makeup and clothes, threw away what I could not give away. I just saw no reason to try anymore and I gave up my vow to myself, please pardon me for putting it this way, but this is how I felt, that I would not die ugly.”

She gripped my hand so tightly, I actually heard some knuckles pop!

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To Be Continued...