The Yellow House

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CASSIE ONCE TOLD ME THAT twins have special powers. He said they can read each other’s thoughts and feel pain in the same spots even if only one of them has been hurt. But that wasn’t true for Wally and me. When Wally tripped in the kitchen and burned his hand on the stovetop I didn’t feel it. When I came off my bike and into the barbed wire surrounding the paddock, Wally laughed like a loon as I hosed the blood off my elbows and knees. I used to send Wally brain messages, secret thoughts I hoped would worm into his mind without using human words anyone could overhear, things I was too embarrassed to say out loud. Later, I realised they never worked—that I was as much a mystery to Wally as he was to me. If we were proper twins, I would’ve been able to latch on to Wally’s brain and know all the things he somehow found out, like magic—all the secret stories he kept from me, just because I was a girl and he liked the feeling of knowing more than I did.

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