Under Shifting Glass Read Online Free PDF Page B

on.
    I’m desperate to skirt behind the chestnut tree so we can get to the playground unseen, but Zoe is heading straight for the boys.
    â€œZoe . . .” I start urgently, clutching at her jacket.
    But she’s already pulling away, calling. “Hi! Hi! Hi, Paddy. Hi, Sam.”
    So there I am, trailing behind her.
    The boys look up.
    â€œHey,” Sam says. Sam wears slouchy pants and likes to think he’s cool. “How’s it going?”
    â€œGreat,” says Zoe.
    â€œWe were just going to the swings,” I say quickly.
    â€œWell, in a sec,” says Zoe.
    Paddy looks at Zoe and then he looks at me. “Did the babies arrive yet?” he asks.
    And there’s a moment where I could just say no. I could just say no, and then we could walk away, and I could tell Zoe like I planned to as we lay in the half-moon swing.
    â€œWell, did they?”
    â€œYes,” I say.
    â€œWhat?” shrieks Zoe.
    â€œThey arrived.” I think I say it because I don’t want to deny them anymore, these baby birds who are my brothers. I need them to be around me. Solid.
    â€œWhy didn’t you tell me?” shrieks Zoe.
    Why didn’t you ask?
    â€œOh, right,” says Sam, whose interests are pretty much confined to sports and his computer.
    â€œAnd?” asks Paddy.
    â€œAnd they’re beautiful,” I say. “Boys. Two boys.”
    â€œThey’re all right, then?” says Zoe. “They’re both all right?”
    â€œThey’ve got eight legs,” says Paddy.
    â€œWhat?” says Sam.
    â€œThat’s what my nana said,” Paddy continues. “They could have eight legs.”
    â€œMumbo jumbo,” I say, and I shoot a look at Zoe. “They have four legs.”
    â€œFour!” exclaims Paddy.
    â€œYes,” I say. “Two each. Like normal people.”
    â€œOh—normal!” Paddy laughs.
    Zoe’s shrugging. Zoe’s making out that whatever Paddy’s saying, it’s nothing to do with her.
    â€œWhat are you talking about?” Sam asks.
    â€œJess’s brothers,” says Paddy. “They’re not just any old twins. They’re Siamese.”
    Sam is doing knee-ups with the soccer ball. “Siamese?” he says.
    â€œConjoined.” I hear my voice going up. I hear myself about to shout. “The correct term is
conjoined twins
. And as for normal, they
are
normal. Considering the cellular complexity of the average human being, that is.”
Shut up, Si
. “They’re as normal as me. Or you. If you call that normal.”
    Paddy ignores
normal
. “Point is,” he says, “they’re joined down the chest.”
    Sam drops the ball. He drops his jaw. His mouth hangs open. “Man,” he says. “Joined down the chest? Wow. Like, you mean, face to face? Like they’re facing each other all the time? Jeez.”
    â€œIf I was stuck onto my brother,” says Paddy, going to retrieve the ball, “if he was the first thing I saw when I woke up and the last thing I saw before I went to sleep, that would kill me.”
    â€œMore likely kill your brother, being stuck to you,” I say. Then I round on Zoe. “Come on,” I say. “We’re going.”
    But Zoe’s feet seem planted in the ground.
    â€œIn the old days,” says Paddy, “they put Siamese twins in the circus. People paid to see them.”
    â€œConjoined!” I shout.
    â€œYou could do that,” Paddy continues. “You could bring your brothers in next semester and charge a dollar a time to look at them.”
    â€œThey might not even last that long,” I say. Or maybe I don’t say it. Maybe it’s the silent thing shouting in my head.
They might not even last that long
.
    Paddy’s big face is shining with excitement. “I’d pay,” he says. “I’d pay to look. Wouldn’t you, Sam?”
    â€œYeah,” says