My uncles would have drawn attention wherever they were. Years later on, it occurred to me that amongst their reasons for choosing to live in Bom Pastor might have been that, in such a remarkable setting, they were not as comparatively outrageous a sight as they would have been in most other places on earth. Even so, they could never have known the safely anonymous experience of blending into a crowd, except at a convention of, to use an ugly-flavoured but correct word, freaks.

I had been told that they were twins, but my parents had chosen to say nothing to me about the most salient and startling fact of their physical existence, which was that they inhabited virtually a single body. They possessed a single pair of legs and a trunk with one arm on either side in the usual fashion; then, on broader than average shoulders, sat two identical elegant heads, side by side, with not quite enough space between them, so that they were obliged to hold their necks constantly at a slight outwards tilt.

Veliath was on the left as one faced them, Valentine on the right. They were tall and appeared fit and healthy. They were children of my grandfather’s third marriage, and although technically my great uncles, were only in their early forties. They were very much Carnegies, having the long faces, auburn hair and hazel eyes that reappeared all through my mother’s family. Valentine was clean shaven; Veliath had a small moustache. Their hair was wavy and they both wore it in a long simple style. They were dressed in a white linen suit and a burgundy shirt with a front fastening that divided at the top to make two necklines. Despite the heat, they each wore a narrow white silk tie, and both wore white canvas fedoras, of which the brims overlapped, although they somehow managed to avoid jostling each other’s hats. They managed everything else physical with similar dexterity. I would learn later that their spines divided at the sacrum and that while they jointly controlled the lower body, above the waist each had sensation and control only on his own side. An observer would never have guessed this without being told, however, as all their movements appeared to be guided by one undivided mind.

One mind, however, they certainly did not have. I became aware of this in the canoe as they argued with each other about the most scenic route to the hotel. Veliath was the more volubly contentious of the two, and gave the boatman firm orders, while Valentine exhibited less care and, eventually, gave up, letting his brother take charge while he told me the history of the island and asked me questions about myself. I recall giving shy answers. Though I was ordinarily confident in adult company, their abnormality overpowered me, eliciting a response that belonged to that earlier phase of childhood when so many things were unknown and possibly hazardous. Which is not to say that I feared them; but there was a certain shock to be processed, and moreover, I was also quite worried that I would blurt out a tactless question. Finally, Veliath’s manner had me a little cowed.

(tbc)

Veliath and Valentine were inspired years ago by Abigail and Brittany Hensel.