The Portrait of Mrs Charbuque
rubbing her breasts through the thin material.
    "I apologize for being so forthright about this, Mr. Piambo, but I am trying to be accurate. My mother was rocking forward and back, her eyes closed, breathing heav-ily. I was astounded at this strange display and had no idea what was happening, but something in the back of my mind told me I
    should not be witnessing it. I was about to turn and go back to my room when my mother suddenly opened her eyes and saw me. She did not stop, nor did she say a word, but just stared at me with a look of great hatred. I ran back to my room and climbed into bed, shut-ting tight my eyes and putting my hands over my ears.
    "The next morning I awoke worried that I would be in trouble, but nothing was said when I set to helping my mother in the kitchen. As my father and Mr. Amory ate breakfast, the Twins spoke to me again. I saw their words as a picture in my mind, and what they showed me this time was horrible—a man, stiff as a statue, covered in frost. His mouth was gaping, a round dark hole, and his eyes staring so fiercely I knew he must be dead. It was the corpse of the man from the supply team, and I saw where he was. He lay in a meadow off the main trail about a quarter of the way down the mountain. I knew the spot because we stopped there each year for a picnic at our end-of-summer ascent.
    "This vision, again, only lasted moments, but as I came to, I saw that my father and Amory were making ready to leave. I was torn between revealing my knowledge and keeping it and the power of the
    Twins a secret. When they opened the door to take their leave, I sprang forward and begged my father for a kiss. When he leaned down, I whis-pered in his ear, 'In the picnic meadow.' I wasn't sure if he had heard me. He simply patted me on the head and said, 'Yes, Lu.' Then they were gone.
    "The second they were out of sight, my mother was at me, grabbing my shoulders and shaking me.
    'What did you tell your father?' she yelled. 'What did you whisper in his ear?' I told her I had said nothing, but she knew that was a lie, for she had seen me. She shook me again, and her face was red with anger. I relented and said, 'I told him where to find the dead man.' 'What kind of nonsense is that?'
    she screamed. 'It's the truth,’ I said, and began to cry. 'You'd do well to keep your mouth shut if you don't want me to take you away from him,’ she said. Then she brought the back of her hand around and smacked me across the face with such force I fell to the floor. When the blow struck me, I saw in my mind the shooting star."

Page 27
    "Mrs. Charbuque," I said, closing my notebook, "I must say—" Here she interrupted me again.
    "One more thing, Mr. Piambo," she said, and her voice fluttered nervously. "One more thing."
    "Yes," I said.
    "My father informed me upon his return that they had found the body at the spot I had described.
    My mother overheard him say this and was delighted, not by my unusual premonition but with relief that I
    hadn't divulged her tryst."
    "But, Mrs. Charbuque," I said, this time determined not to be put off, "this story you are building, it is rather fantastical, wouldn't you say? I am having a hard time believing that this is all real. Please don't take this as an accusation, but please, explain to me how I am supposed to take all this."
    "What piece of it disturbs you?" she asked.
    "I can follow all of it, but the fact that these two iden-tical snowflakes are communicating with you in some psychic way seems, well, if I may be so bold, a good deal of rubbish."
    "The story is true, I swear, but as you say, the idea that the Twins conferred supernatural abilities was rubbish. It was the worst, most destructive rubbish, because I believed with all my heart that they did. So did my father. That childhood delusion would shape and eventually poison the rest of my life, Mr.
    Piambo."
    "So you agree with me?" I asked.
    "Even God is fallible," she said. Her laughter was prolonged and piercing, and

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