It was strange watching Oliver without Alexander. It wasn't as if he couldn't function or survive, but it was obvious that there was something different in him. I'd never known another set of twins and even though I accepted them both for their differences no matter how closely they resembled the other, it was difficult at times to think of them of being anything less than two parts of the same person. Oliver would tell me I was being unfair with that statement, but it's true. Their relationship wasn't far off from a marriage of sorts and after all the years they'd spent with each other nose to nose they had a real sense of the other, even from afar. For instance, Alexander would set his alarm to wake him at seven am and Oliver would sit straight up in the bed at one o'clock in the morning UK time and look about the room disoriented.
“What is it?” I asked the first few times.
Oliver shook his head, “Alex is up,” He’d mumbled, easing back onto his pillow, “He's getting ready for class.”
Events like this happened again and again. He'd know when Alexander was sick without him phoning. Another time Oliver was injured at work when a ladder slipped off a lorry and struck him in the shoulder. Alexander was ringing us before Ollie was even out of the doctor's office. The bond between them was beautiful and astounding. It was truly one of the most amazing things I ever observed in my life, the way those two knew and loved each other.
I didn't speak to Alex often myself. Our schedules never coincided. We'd chat occasionally on the internet or I'd catch him on a Saturday, but Oliver would keep me updated with news. A few weeks after he got there, Alex visited Las Vegas with some people he met. He said the city was something like the tube in London combined with Piccadilly Circus and filled with drunks. He hadn't enjoyed it, except that he'd seen Cirque de Soliel and loved that. Alex was enjoying the US, but said it was too damn hot and too damn sunny in California. It was unnatural for winter and he missed the snow. He mentioned that he fully understood how I felt when I arrived in Wales because no one could understand what he was saying. That went both ways, but he was catching on to the slang. On a brighter note, America had amazing food and he had discovered something called Southern biscuits with sausage gravy. A girl he knew was going to teach him to make so he could make it for us at home. She was his new love interest and he talked about her in a way Oliver had never heard his brother speak of any woman.
“It's serious,” Ollie told me about them, “I can hear it in his voice. He's mad about this one, he is.”
“He's been mad about others.” I just could not take Xander in any relationship seriously.
“No,” Oliver replied knowingly, “This one's different, Sil. This might be it for him.”
“Do you think?” I didn’t believe it for a single second. And if it were true, I had the distinct feeling deep in my gut that it wasn’t a good thing.
I could tell by the look on his face that Oliver felt the same, but it flashed away as quick as he smiled again, “I think it might, but mind this is Alexander we're speaking of. We'll give him his time to find out for himself.”
Time was definitely available for him to find out. The weeks seemed to peel slowly in Alexander's absence. There was a real sense of something missing. Not just in Oliver, but in his parents and in the quiet that filled our weekend nights and in the silence that followed the mention of his name. We all we all missed his presence.
In March, he went to hospital with the flu because he had no immunities to the viral strains overseas, but he recovered quickly and was back at school in no time. He said his courses were rough, but he was learning all sorts of skills he wouldn’t anywhere else. In the summer, Alexander survived an earthquake that took down a department store on his street. Bloody terrifying, he said, the ceiling in his flat cracked right above his head. More weeks ground past and just when it seemed we may be getting used to not having our boy around, Alexander finished his degree and was coming home in a few weeks with a big surprise.
I was not sure that I wanted to know what his surprise was. Knowing Alex, it could be anything. I put it out of my mind and set about finishing my own degree and settling into my new job. I'd gotten a position as an electron microscopy technician, which was not my dream position, but was a start in the right direction. It kept me occupied and interested in something instead of feeling the restlessness and boredom I so often felt back then. As happy as I was and as satisfied as I felt with all my accomplishments, there was still that ever present “It” lurking in the background of my mind. That nagging empty space that I somehow always felt no matter how hard I tried to fill it. I brushed it off as I always had and I focused on what was at hand. Work, school, Duncan, Oliver...the cabin...whatever. Anything so I didn't have to pay it mind and feel it for real. Anything so it would be a shadow off to the side and not a cloud that would envelop me and swallow me whole.
Still it was very exciting that Alex was on his way home. He was my dearest friend and I had missed him so much. It was good to have something to look forward to instead of lingering in the same mundane occurrences day after day. And I knew Oliver was excited. His mood had improved. He seemed more up than he had in ages, more like his old self, cracking jokes and laughing it up.
We were supposed to collect Alex from the airport, but he rang us just before we left to get him and said that he'd been delayed and not to bother. He'd phone again when he got to his apartment.
He finally did ring Oliver back that Friday evening and told him to get me and come to his flat that night for dinner. It was an odd demand. Alexander’s flat was about the size of a postage stamp and he rarely had anything more than a couple of packages of Japanese noodles, cereal and half gallons of milk in his entire kitchen pantry. Normally, we would have met at his parent's house or at one of their favourite pubs. Still, I didn't think much of it at the time. I just wanted to see my brother and I knew Oliver did as well.
“Boyo!” Alexander whipped open the door before we'd even knocked and immediately embraced his brother, pulling him from side to side in a bear hug. They pounded each other on the back lovingly, “It’s been too long, Brawd!”
“It has!” Oliver agreed. I hadn't seen a grin on him like that in forever.
“Silvia!” Alexander released Oliver and opened his arms to me, “Lovelier than ever! I swear, you just get prettier and prettier!” He drew me up off my feet. “You smell like tulips,” He mentioned as he squeezed me tight and gave me a friendly kiss, “How are you?”
“Excellent!”
“Well, get in here!” He set me down, but didn't let go of my hand as Oliver entered the room, which was tidier than it had been the last time I’d been over. I stared up at him as if he were a stranger. Alexander looked fantastic. He was smiling and suntanned, freshly shaven, and dressed in black from head to foot. He released me and crossed the room where he drew two bottles out of a small bucket of ice, “For you, Sil, pear water, and for my brother, what else but Woodpecker cider?”
Oliver took the bottle from his hand, “Thanks! Been awhile since you got a haircut, yeah? Don’t let mum see you looking like that.”
He shook his head, still grinning, “No, haven’t seen her yet, but I suppose unless I want to get told off I should trim it up a bit.”
“What is that wonderful smell?” I asked. Something was cooking in the kitchen and it was making my stomach growl. I didn’t realise I was hungry until I smelled it.
“Oh, I dunno. I think it’s—“
“Alex, I got it! I can’t believe I forgot bread! I’m such an airhead! Did you turn off the--” A woman shut the door and turned around. Her eyes widened, “Oh! Shit! I’m too late!”