I.

Vis-à-vises, Intrepid Counterparts

Part 1: It's Summer already, but poppies are still around

Two young boys were playing and running around nearby the bank of a calm and not very
deep river. Sun was still travelling the path from East, from where it had vaingloriously risen. The
two looked completely identical, which could only make them twin brothers – they looked
practically the same: the same amber eyes, the same auburn hair, the same pale delicate skin. It
would probably be difficult to be able to tell one from the other, really, seen as their faces ended up
looking the same as well. Yes, they were definitely twins.
“Come on, stop being an idiot and give me back Sverre, brother!” yelled one at the other,
with an irritated expression in his face.
The other, however, did not seem like he was about to comply to the demand of his annoyed
sibling, and he kept running around with the action figure of the famous General Sverre in his hands
- a knightly armoured plastic replica with a daring gun pointing at whichever target. A sun reflecting
grin was in the face of the stirring lad and salty drops of sweat were left behind after sliding through
his face and fragile arms. The hair on his forehead was swept behind as the air crashed against his
head, eventually caressing his round slick ears. “As if I’d stop now!” he laughed fatiguingly while
he fought the puffing of his exhausted breathing “This is my revenge for squealing to mum about
me beating you up yesterday, wuss!”
The afflicted brother giggled playfully in response, “Sorry brother, I just couldn’t resist
having you getting scolded after making fun of me... and hey! You hurt me; I’ve got a bruise on my
knee!”
The two brothers obviously enjoyed teasing each other, but it seemed evident that they
didn’t do it for malicious pleasure – quite the contrary – In fact, the affect that they mutually shared
was incomparable to most of the one shared amongst a whole lot of other siblings, probably due to
some kind of twin's empathy.
The running brother had not yet stopped pestering the other, “You better be sorry, I mean – I
didn't even hurt you that much - It’s not my fault you’re as weak as a porcelain doll, you chicken!”
Truth be said, despite all the panting and occasional loss of balance, he didn’t seem like he was
going to stop cranking around any soon – his stamina was endless, but so was his brother’s. The
chase could probably go on for hours.
“Ugh! Next time we wrestle, I’m going to kick your sorry butt! And stop calling me a
chicken, mister.” It seemed like his brother was up for another challenge, and he decided to turn his
head around and evaluate whether he meant it or not.
Upon turning around, however, a symmetric empathy revealed him nothing but more
hesitation in the sweet honey of his eyes.
“Hah, as if you could ever beat me!” he proclaimed arrogantly, an idyllic mirth ascending to
his face's surface “Come on, how many times have you won, huh?”
“Uh... well...” By the look of his sheepish expression, it seemed like he could count the wins
using only the fingers of the small of his hand.
“Oh, and the times I let you win do not count!” the chased brother seemed to enjoy adding
this last detail.
 “HEY!” The other responded with indignation upon the hauteur of his sibling. “Who asked
you to let me win?”
Suddenly, the boy at the front halted his movement without any further explanation,
surprising the pursuing boy, who ended up pathetically stumbling accidentally against his back and
falling backwards against the floor, having only his back cushion the impulse.
Turning back to see the comic sight of his brother laying on the floor, the boy simply
commented disdainfully “Hah, you’re pathetic!”, proceeding to grab his brother’s hand and helping
him stand back up on his feet.
“Gee, thanks!”
“No problem.” he laconically said.
Soon would the target of his thankful words turn out to be the aim of his frustrations as he
saw his brother throw General Sverre in the transparent clear waters of the river beside them.
“Oops!” His brother smirked whilst gazing at the terrified eyes of the annoyed boy.
“You rascal! How could you!” The boy rushed close to the river, and stopped by it, looking
for any sign of his precious action figure.
“Aww, I’m really sorry, come on, let’s go get it back! Say, how about you bath in the river?
You’re all covered in sweat, mate!”
“Huh?!” A questioning face looked at the ironic expression of his “evil” brother.
Sighing oddly and pouting with merriment, the “evil” twin discretely pushed his brother into
the water of the river by making him lose balance with the aid of a malicious hand against his back.
After doing this, he laughed ridiculously at the hilarious sight of his wet and confused
brother, who had settled in the sandy depths of the river, clearing his eyes away from water and
murkiness. But as soon as he regained vision, the giggling boy was surprised by a not-so-clueless
hand that grasped his wrist and pulled him into the river as well.
“Arghhhhh! What the heck are you doing, brother?” He exclaimed in astonishment. “No
way, look at us! We look like some losers who accidentally fell into the river, you idiot!”
Upon ending this sentence, he felt water being splashed against his face, in what looked like
clear diamonds being thrown in the air. In fact, what happened next was what one could call a
precious vision: The “evil” brother was satisfied and had finally had his revenge, and thus he
decided he could go back to simply playing with his “wuss” twin, showering the other back with yet
one more encore of glittery diamonds.
The serene waters of the flowing river were far from being rampant. Rather, they looked like
wet blankets that wrinkled along with the motion of the ever restless twins, lost in excitement over
their friendly dispute. Transparent clear as polished glass, the blankets allowed passage to a
welcoming, warm, summer morning sunshine and held haven to several living beings, the most
common of all being the carps that shyly swam amongst waterweeds and uncommon pebbles – seen
as most had been eroded to small grains of gilded sand over the course of millions of years.
Surrounding the riversides, a carpet of deeply green grass seemed to spread to no extent, holding the
occasional hideous fern and gracious wild flowers, and a variety of trees – most of which were
willows that tilted towards the river or the sun, hoping to get their deserved share of light and
minerals. Farther away, in one of the river banks you could gaze at several hills which stood out
even from afar. Also, the same refreshing and very green grass reached them, along with several
evergreen and pine trees that gathered in what appeared to be a bunch of dark green spots when
looking at them from the river. A few wild flowers, including dandelions and daisies also adorned
the smooth surface of these hills, adding bliss and colour to their magnificence. Summer had
obviously just begun, as flowers still sufficed with a small glimpse of Spring and life. Plus, amidst
the foliage of certain fruit trees there were still only a few fruits sprouting, let alone maturing.
 Across the other side of the river the vast green rug served as the entrance door mat to a
small village. Very far from opulent, and despite the rudeness and simplicity of the pine wooden
shacks, the houses that filled the town were certainly comfortable, and it was not a rare sight to
witness the inhabitants welcoming the worn out travellers that frequently stopped by to rest before
resuming their personal trips and quests. In return for the stay, the villagers would gladly have these
adventurers and merchants tell them their most daring ventures and trials undergone.
“Look brother! Poppies are still around!” shouted one of the twins. The two had decided for
reconciliation and crawled out of the river. They were probably heading back home, crossing the
green fields in its direction. Both had auburn hair wet and extending slightly below their ears due to
the weighing water. They both worn only trunks, with one of them – the one kneeling on the ground
- wearing a blue artsy pattern over a white background, and the other – the one walking towards his
brother – wearing the same pattern over a similar white background, except in red. Drops of bright
water dislocated along the shoulders of both, after having dripped from the tips of their soaked hair,
eventually reaching their slender chests and hitting the verdant ground below their puerile feet. The
one wearing blue was tilting his head to look at the scarlet beauty of the exotic flowers – exotic
since their passionate colour was not a significant part of the palette that painted the landscape
surrounding the small village. His brother had stopped alongside him and he too knelt down to
contemplate the poppies. They were about four, but that was a fairly large amount for them to be
seen around in June.
“Yeah, they’re red and have a weird eye, great deal! What’s so special about them?”
exclaimed his brother, clearly not understanding why he always got so fascinated whenever he
sighted these flowers.
“I don’t know, I just...” He hesitated at the lack of response. He had no idea why, he simply
liked them.
“Whatever. Come on bro, let’s scram!” The brother in red patterned trunks stood up and
signalled him to come with his hand. “You’re not gonna be staring at these the whole day, are you?
Because well, that’s okay with me, seeing as lunch is ready and I’m hungry enough to eat your plate
if you don’t show up soon enough!”
Upon hearing this he immediately stood up. These words hit his groaning stomach, which
was clearly not happy with the idea. “Brother! You wouldn’t just let me stay here starving to death,
would you? Who would you play with?” He questioned, seemingly hoping that his brother would be
moved by what he had just said.
“Uhhh...” His brother wasn’t expecting this question. Truth is he did not have an answer. Or
maybe he did. Realistic and down to earth as he typically was, despite being young, his sheer
pragmatism would not let him just mutter around corny words like “Oh, you’re the best brother I
could ever wish for!” or “You rock, even though you sound girly mad about poppies!” , but truth be
said, he had these words in his mind, and he meant them too. He just wasn’t the kind to lean over
emotional things - or rather, as he put it: “Mushy-wussy stuff, you prick.”
“See? You would be bored for eternity!” a smile of pure happiness and joy was painted in
his face, as if he had actually heard these corny words. He didn’t have to hear them, he could feel
them. He could read them in his brother’s eyes; eyes which at the moment were staring his in a
mixture of confusion and slight fraternal affect.
Despite the reluctance of his brother to express that affect and consideration, the two were
still very close. They should be! They had been together since... well... ever. Being identical twins,
given birth from the same womb, they had been together even before they were actually born,
sharing the same placenta and existence. But that was not the primary source to power their
brotherhood. This union and closeness had been the result of living constantly together for a
relatively long period of eleven years, and counting. They were inseparable - wherever one was,
there was the other. They had shared so many discoveries during their plays and games! Like that
one time when they first dove in the waters of the river and helped each other learn to swim. Their
father had insisted in helping them, only to have is aid refused. They did just fine. Father sat by
watching them attempting to cope with the diminished streams of the calm river. They did just
fine... until... a brief blink of the eyes and they managed to get themselves in trouble by adventuring
deeper inward the river. Typical. Getting in trouble was the Dante brothers’ main specialization, and
often had their parents to either rescue them, go looking for them or do both all at once. Just like
every other time, they were rescued that day. Dad got his clothes and hair drenched, but eventually
they somehow managed to learn to swim – and that at the age of three. Dad was proud. So was
mum. Still, they were worried that something much more severe would happen to the two of them
someday, being so unpredictable and careless. That’s probably the concern of every parent, and their
multiple times getting themselves in trouble got them grounded several times.

“It’s not my fault he’s a sissified fool, mum!” insisted the boy clad in red shorts, his golden
eyes flaming whilst melting his crying brother in disapproval. The wimp was gripping their
mother’s beige linen dress tightly with spoofed and fake sobbing.
“Leon, how many times do I have to tell you not to hurt your brother?” She had crouched
down to face weeping eyes and caress reddish hair. “It’s alright, your brother’s going to get Sverre
back, isn’t that right Leon?” By Sverre she meant the toy figure that was left behind forgotten in the
river and by Leon she meant the non-crying twin.
The said twin promptly replied with an irritated groan and more inflamed eyes towards the
«S.O.B. » (acronym for Stupid Oaf Brother) “Stop crying you sissy, I’ll go get your idiotic General
back!”
“Leon, the swear-o-matron is detecting swearing nearby. I think it might get angry if you
keep at it!” the ironic tone of his mother was practically letting him know that he should choose his
tone wisely if he wanted to avoid bring grounded.
“Yeah, yeah, okay. I’ll be right back.” Upon ending the conformed sentence he turned back
towards the main door of the living room before flashing a final intimidating glare against his
brother. “He’s toast.”
The fact that beyond two practically physical copies lain an intense contrast of
personalities was somewhat disturbing to those who didn't know them well. Leonard, the boy in red
trunks loved to boss people around, always trying to get the better of each situation and making fun
of others; while...
“It’s okay now, Brennan, your evil twin is going to get it back. Now do me a favour and
see if he doesn’t get in trouble, alright?”
...While Brennan was quite the opposite. He was sensitive, calm, shy and somewhat
generous - qualities that according to some of the old matrons of the neighbourhood made him
adorable; but that the kids who hanged around with him considered to make him a «coward» and a
«chicken». Such is children’s cruelty. Leonard, his sibling, on the other hand, simply saw him as
being special and odd in a good way, thought that still didn't prevent him from calling him a...
“Wuss. Are you happy now? You managed to make me walk all the way back to the river
again. Couldn’t you just wait for tomorrow or something?” Leon literally moaned from beneath his
kneeling pose amidst the glittery water. He had a tone of “this is such a drag” in his voice, and
probably in his face, but Brennan wouldn’t know that, seen as he was just staring at his brother
beneath his back.
“I’m sorry brother, it’s just it’ll probably be washed away by the stream if we don’t find it
today!” he justified.
“Why didn’t you just go look for it yourself, then? I kind of have stuff to do, y’know?”
 “But brother, I need help!” exclaimed Brennan, insistent in having his precious toy back,
“Besides, you threw it down there in the first place, it’s only fair if you help me finding it!”
“Hmph. Just shut up and help me look then.” Laconically stated Leon.
Before Leon could realise, Brennan had jumped inside the river and hugged him as a way of
appreciation.
“What the heck do you think you’re doing?” his brother shoved him away with his left
arm, causing Brennan to fall in his buttocks on the bottom of the river. The water washed him all
the way up the neck in that pose. Past the neck his face denoted a sad look and expression.
“Come on; don’t look at me like that. I just don’t want to look like a loser. Now let’s keep
searching?” said Leon, grinning at Brennan’s face with pride.
Special. The pride of that crisp smile was about having a special brother. If having a twin
was not enough, one that looks the same as him but acts a completely different way from him, being
so kind and always willing to follow his brother’s plans was something very useful and good to
have. It’s as if they almost completed each other to form a single perfect human being with every
quality there is to have.
“Ow! I think I landed my butt on a rock after you pushed me, brother!” the puzzled look
in Brennan’s eyes was unrivalled. He stood up and looked at the sandy surface he had sat on. A
silver coloured unknown object was slightly buried in the sand.
“What have we got here?” Leon asked himself, immediately crouching to look at the
strange item.
“Wow, it’s shiny! Dig it, dig it!” an excited Brennan switched his puzzled gaze to a rather
curious vivid glare.
“Yeah, yeah, OK. Stop screaming in my ear, Bren.” Bren was his shortened name, Leon
usually called him that.
Leonard stretched his arm in the silvery object’s direction and swept the thin layer of sand
covering it with his right hand. His brother watched him from above his shoulder, failing to see
much, since Leon’s head was in the way.
That was when Leon finished cleaning the golden sediments of the silvery... toy?!
“You idiot, you were sitting on top of your dumb general all this time!” he complained
with annoyance, “Urgh. Quick, you had better take it and run away before I start having sudden
wishes to drown you!” threatened a very scary and angry looking Leonard. The way he harshly
placed Sverre in his brother’s palm practically signalled Bren to start running back home, signal
which Bren hurried to comply.
Leonard sat down and looked at the sparingly clouded azure sky shaking his head in
embarrassment for having such a weird brother. “What a prick.”

(To be continued on Part 2.)