Chapter 28
Murky ponds of water steam off the asphalt now that the rain is gone, and the multi-coloured variety of NOLA’s humanity permeates the street with its lazy pace. A fat butt sways in front me, a couple passes besides me and she laughs a loud hearty laugh, a lanky guy with a ragged shirt pushes a cart overloaded with carton boxes.
“Based on what my contact knows, Sarah never looked for you, she doesn’t expect to see anyone who resembles her”, Ronny tells me
Sarah is the smirking face I saw on a PC screen in a Dutch farm in a night that feels centuries away.
“Why can’t you tell me what’s happening? Why are there so many people who look like me? You can’t just drag me around like this without giving me a clue”, I protest
“I will tell you in due time, this is not the right moment”, he says
His steps are fast, his statements curt.
I suppose he must have a rationale for keeping me in the dark. And yet I need to know.
“If this is the case our paths are splitting here and now”, I retort, stopping
“This is not the best moment for scenes, come on”, Ronny sights
“I don’t care what moment it is. It’s a freaking mess all the time anyways”, I say, raising my voice more than I intend
Ronny looks around nervously.
“Ok Iris, I will tell you. Now keep walking”, he says
“When will you tell me?”, I insist
“Now. I will tell you now. Let’s go”, he capitulates
I start walking again, smiling at Ronny innocently. There’s a fleck of lightness in my mood, for the briefest instant.
“What I’m about to tell you is no more than an hypothesis for now”, Ronny starts
“Tell me about it”, I say
“Imagine one initial human being. Imagine selecting 70% of the traits of that human being, and making a new somebody with them – a twin of the original human being. Place these twins in very similar settings, families with the same social status…then make a new set of twins that are genetically similar by, say, 99%, and place them in different families – poor and rich, with alcoholic and caring mothers. The members of which group will be more similar to one another? What counts the most, the social setting or the DNA? To make good stats you need ten, twenty…a hundred twins. You see where I am getting?”, he says
I do not want to see, and yet I do.
“So I am a clone”, I say with a voice that has the cool feel of metal
“No. I think you are the initial human being, so to say”, Ronny replies, studying my expression
I cough out a mirthlessly dry laugher.
“Right”, I reply ironically
“I will show you the files. Your twins – or clones how you call them – are not classified the way you are and…”, Ronny starts, then hesitates
“And they are after you, you specifically, not anybody else”, he concludes
“What about Veronica?”
“Yes, Veronica. She was born from your same mother…”, he says, and lets the sentence fade away somewhere in the thick air of NOLA
“Is she my natural twin then?”, I ask, and I feel my heart race at the hope that at least one thing that counted for me, that still counts for me, is real – that not all has been manipulated in my life
“I don’t think so, sorry…although I guess that her being born from your same mother, having been with you even if for the shortest time makes her somewhat different from the others”
“Yes…”, I say
“And yet your mother wanted Antonio to keep an eye on you, not on her”, Ronny tells me
“And…”, he starts, but then his face goes pale
I turn around and I see him too. Our eyes lock into each other, uncaring of the crowd and the distance. My eyes are the flaming echo of his cool stare.
He knows I know.
And he knows I am in love before I do, because he is my father.