They had the same face, rounded, almost heart like, that swooped into a soft point at their chin. Big eyes perfectly spaced from the starting swoop of a buttoned nose. Plump cheeks that added a sweetness and highlighted lips that sat in a perpetual smile. Both a lopsided half of a heart, together they were the embodiment of love.
Only their coloring was different.
Thick curls of chestnut brown framed ruddied cheeks and deep sea blue eyes, while the other was topped with a golden mop, eyes the color of clear seas and lips more neutral than a particular color.
Bare and free, they ran through the yard. A pink piece of paper in the little girl’s hand. The boy held something that could have been a weapon or an instrument, without him narrating, his imagination was too vivid for anyone else to know. Anyone other than his sister.
Behind them a trail of flattened dew-kissed grass, petals that had been crushed and rolled, and clothing. It was surprising they had made it out of the house dressed at all. The trail of clothing dropped off much sooner than the maze of tiny footprints dipping in and out of the dirt circling the base of the large apple tree.
They knew not to get to close to the river bank. As earlier as either of them could remember, and at 5 there wasn’t too many years acquired, their parents, the nannies and servants all warned them: NOT NEAR THE RIVER BANK.
Erol listened. He always listened. Which was fine, since Ella didn’t mind being the trouble maker, even when she didn’t do it. Why would today be any different?
Every day was the same: bath, dress, run, play, eat, repeat.
It was their song. The one that kept them quiet and complacent during meals and teas and services with their family. But in the mornings when their siblings went wherever siblings did and their parents went about their own routines, Erol and Ella would run and play.
The yard was their playground, and oh how they both loved to play.
The game of the day had been a new one, so it seemed to those keeping a wondering eye on the pair. The usual games had their usual rules and there was more playing than talking.
Not this game. Not on this day.
Erol talked and Ella ran away. Her hands in balls of fire and ice. Hell hath no fury like a woman, even at the age of 5. Ella used sweeping hand gestures, waving her paper to and fro under Erol’s nose. He crumpled her paper and tried to reason with her starting the whole process over again.
Hunger often resembles fury in children. So the eyes that were watching departed the young ones again, turning instead to plates of fresh fruits, cheeses, biscuits, and of course, preserves. A pot of fresh tea was added, the sandwiches left inside for the adult children.
A call was made to an empty yard.
A second and third echoed the same eery quiet.
Finally, a sob.
And what a sob. The little miss’s head popped up over the bank. Smudged and streaked with mud and tears, she buried her face in her hands. She cried stumbling over her own feet, her yells being swallowed by her heaving breathes. Scratches marred her body and her thick hair hung down soaking wet.
“He’s gone,” she cried as she collided with the tree.
“What do you mean he’s gone?”
“Erol,” she said and pointed toward the river bank.
~~~
Months came, days and weeks too, all rolled into years for everyone but Erol. Looking down at a picture, a gnarled finger traced a familiar face. They both were familiar to her for they had had the same face then. Rounded that swooped into a soft point at the chin, both a lopsided half of a heart; a yin and yang. Big eyes perfectly spaced from the start of a buttoned nose. Plump cheeks that added a sweetness and highlighted lips that sat in a perpetual smile.
When they were little, only their dispositions were different. Now, one was dead, resting. The other active, alive.
Erol had told her would murder her, even showed her all the ways. Told her he would get away with it and she would be the one they blamed. Promised he would play with her ghost until he left for schooling and adventures, or until he married like a proper gentleman would do.
Ella had laughed and cried. A storm of emotions writhed through her small form. Men were grown up little boys. She had seen her brothers and her father get away with so much, all for the difference of an innie or an outie. She loved her brother, they could play their games together no matter what, but she wasn’t going to loose just because he said so.
She followed his instructions, but left him in the river banks instead.