Cutler 04 - Midnight Whispers

to indicate silence and he bit down on his lower lip quickly. Then I inched the door open until I could get my head in enough to peer.
    There they were in the tub together, facing each other. Richard was scrubbing Melanie's hair. Her budding breasts, like two puffs of marshmallow, were fully exposed. Suddenly, Richard sensed my presence and turned my way. He stopped scrubbing. Melanie raised her head.
    "Close that door and get out of here!" he screamed.
    "Get out!" Melanie added.
    "What are you doing? That's disgusting," I said. "You're too old to be bathing together."
    "What we do is none of your business. Close that door," he demanded again.
    I slammed it shut.
    "Go back to your room, Jefferson," I said.
    “Where are you going?"
    "To tell Aunt Bet. She can't know about this. It's obscene," I said.
    "What's obscene mean?"
    "Just go back to your room and wait for me," I said. I hurried downstairs and found Aunt Bet talking on the telephone. Uncle Philip was out meeting some contractors who were going to work on the rebuilding of the hotel. She saw me standing there and put her hand over the mouthpiece.
    "Christie, what is it?" she asked. "I'm on the phone."
    "I've got to tell you something immediately. You've got to go upstairs," I said.
    "Oh dear, what is it now? Just a minute. Louise, I have a minor crisis here. Yes, another one. I'll phone you back shortly. Thank you." She cradled the receiver and pressed her lips together to show her annoyance. "Yes?"
    "It's Melanie and Richard, they're taking a bath."
    "So?"
    "Together. They're in the bathtub together. Right now," I added for emphasis.
    "So. They've always done things together; they're unique; they're twins," she said.
    "But they're twelve years old, almost thirteen and . . ."
    "Oh, I see. You think there's something perverted and dirty about it." She nodded as if confirming a suspicion. "Well the twins are special. They're very bright and very devoted to each other. Neither would ever do anything to hurt or embarrass the other. It's just natural; they were formed together in my womb and lived side by side for nine months. Why, I even fed them together, one on each breast. I think there's something spiritual about it."
    "But you said you wanted to move Richard into Jefferson's room so Melanie could have the privacy she needs," I reminded her. She looked furious that I had pointed up the contradiction.
    "I meant so she could have the room she needs, as well as some privacy," she said sternly.
    "But . . ."
    "But nothing. I don't expect they'll be doing everything together like this much longer. As they grow older, they'll grow as far apart as is necessary, but until then, there's nothing wrong with their love and devotion toward each other. Actually, they're an inspiration. Yes," she said, liking the words she had found to defend them, "an inspiration." Her smile wilted quickly and she turned witch-like: her eyes small and beady, her lips thin and her cheeks drawn in, which made her nose seem longer and more pointed.
    "It doesn't surprise me that you would find their actions depraved with your unfortunate background and with Fern growing up in your house and all," she said.
    "What do you mean, my unfortunate background?" I demanded.
    "Please, Christie. Let's not get into nasty arguments. Thank you for coming to tell me about the twins. Don't worry about it. Actually, Richard's complained to me on a number of occasions now about your- spying on them."
    "Spying? That's not true."
    "Everyone deserves his or her privacy at times. You like yours, don't you?" she added. "Just keep a closer eye on your little brother, dear. That, it seems to me, is going to be enough for you. For anyone," she added under her breath. "Now, I must call my friend Louise back. We were right in the middle of an important conversation."
    She turned back to the phone, leaving me stuttering in shock. I turned and went back upstairs.
    "What happened?" Jefferson asked, coming to his doorway.
    "Nothing, Jefferson. Forget about it. Forget about them. They're freaks," I said loud enough for them to hear. I went back to my bedroom and continued to write what was becoming a small book instead of a letter to Gavin. He was the only other living person to whom I wanted to confide.
     
    Gavin, living with Aunt Bet and Uncle Philip has caused me to miss my parents even more. Uncle Philip's family is a family without love. The only times Uncle Philip is with his family is at breakfast and dinner. Aunt Bet