The Other Half of My Heart (24 page)

That was when Minni started remembering.

The girl with the Barbies.

And that kid in kindergarten who asked Keira why she was so dirty.

Even their teacher this year, who had told Keira she should be the most grateful one in their class for Martin Luther King, Jr., because if he hadn’t done what he did, white and black people might still not go to school together.

And that dumb boy who, after that, told Minni he wished he’d lived in the days when black and white people
didn’t
go to school together so he wouldn’t have to be in the same class with her sister.

Minni sucked in her breath. She had pushed the boy’s hurtful remark so far out of her mind that letting it back in made her heart race.

She slowly recalled her response. She had stood there, stunned. Completely frozen in disbelief.

And
angry
.

How could someone say something so horrible about the person she loved more than anyone in the whole world?

But she hadn’t said a word.

A hot wave of shame washed over her. Why hadn’t she put that boy in his place—told him he was wrong to say that about her sister?

And why hadn’t she confronted that dress shop lady with her two-faced treatment?

And why hadn’t she stood up to Grandmother Johnson when she said Keira didn’t need to be getting any darker, as if being dark was a bad thing? Keira’s skin was as gorgeous as her naturally curly hair. Couldn’t their grandmother see that? Keira was beautiful, not in spite of her color, but
because
of it.

Why didn’t Minni
ever
speak up?

Because she was scared. Plain and simple. Grandmother Johnson was right. She needed more character.

She rubbed her damp palms against her skirt. Admitting this terrible truth was probably one of the hardest things she’d ever had to do. Harder than finding her gerbil dead in its cage. Harder than telling her parents she’d helped Keira cheat on a test. Maybe even harder than singing in front of a bunch of strangers—she wasn’t sure. But thinking about how cowardly she had been created an even bigger pit in the bottom of her stomach than the thought of performing onstage.

The conference room door opened. “Are you ready, girls?” A smiling lady stepped into the hallway.

Minni shook from head to foot, the same way she had the day that boy said that awful thing.

The other girls rose from their seats and filed into the room.

“Are you all right, dear?” the woman asked.

Minni didn’t move.

“Child, you look terrified.”

Minni looked up into the woman’s smiling face. “Don’t you worry none,” the woman said. “It’ll be easy as pie. The judges are all very friendly people. You’ll see.”

Finally, Minni stood, not entirely sure her trembling legs would hold her. The woman took her by the elbow and led her into the room.

Five tables stood around the room. The other girls had already taken their seats—one per table—and had begun to chat with the judge sitting across from them. One judge sat alone.
Miss Oliphant!
Thank goodness.

Minni sat, careful to keep her back straight, her knees together and her hands in her lap, just as Grandmother Johnson had instructed.

“You can relax, baby,” Miss Oliphant said. “We’re neighbors, remember.”

Minni smiled then, and the interview began, although it really just felt like a chat with an old friend. The anxiety and remorse she’d been feeling in the hallway ebbed.

Miss Oliphant asked her what subjects she enjoyed in school, what she thought she might want to do when she got older, what concerns she had about the world today and if she had any pets. Minni loved telling her about Bessie Coleman and all the smart things she could do and say.

Then Miss Oliphant asked who her best friend was and why.

“Definitely my sister. Because she’s fun to be with.”

Miss Oliphant nodded. “The best kinds of friends to have.” She eyed Minni thoughtfully. “Is it ever hard…being a twin?”

“Oh no!” Minni said quickly. “It’s wonderful!”

Miss Oliphant squinted and let out a little hum.

“I mean, most of the time. I guess it’s a little annoying when people wonder why we’re never dressed alike—or why we don’t look alike.”

Miss Oliphant nodded again.

“And I suppose sometimes I compare myself to her…but all siblings do that, not just twins.”

“If you don’t mind me asking, what do you think when you compare yourself to her?”

Minni glanced at her watch. Wasn’t it almost time for them to be done?

“We still have five minutes,” Miss Oliphant said, again seeming able to read her mind.

The woman’s opal eye mesmerized Minni. She felt an urge to be completely honest. “Well, I guess…I wonder sometimes why I couldn’t have been born with browner skin so people would know we’re sisters.” She paused, waiting for Miss Oliphant to say something, but the woman just nodded as if she understood. “Sometimes I think about how much more confident she is than me, and I wonder, will I ever shine like Keira?”

Miss Oliphant cocked her head. “Why do you need to shine like your sister? Why can’t you shine like yourself?”

“I don’t shine.” Minni looked at her pale, freckled arms. “Unless you count glowing in the dark.”

Miss Oliphant blew out her breath. “Child, everyone shines—just in different ways. Look at the sun and moon. One was made to light the night, the other to light the day.”

“The moon doesn’t shine, either. It just reflects the sun’s light.”

“Now, don’t go getting all scientific and edu-ma-cated on me. Can you see better by the light of a full moon or can’t you?”

Minni nodded grudgingly.

“So one burns hot and the other glows cool. The sun may keep us from freezing to death, but the moon keeps the earth itself from spinning out of orbit. If it weren’t for the moon, the oceans would stop their going in and coming out. Do you know how important those tides are?”

Minni nodded slowly. “Without the tides, all life would eventually come to an end.”

“Exactly. Both bodies are critical for our survival, and they work
together
to fulfill their joint purpose. Neither one would be able to do what it does without the other. Do you hear what I’m saying?”

She did. She and Keira needed each other.

It was easy to see how she needed Keira, who was always making her laugh or helping her meet new friends or standing up to the boys who made fun of her freckles or big feet or hair. But how did Keira need her? If the moon was just as important as the sun—just in a different way—how was she important?

“Our mama named us for the sun and the moon,” she said.

“I wondered about that. In Ireland, the name Keira means ‘dark’ or ‘dark-haired,’ but in Persian it also means ‘sun,’ and I saw on your application that your middle name is Lunette—‘little moon.’”

“The day we were born the sun and moon were up at the same time. Mama saw it as good luck.”

“Sounds like your mama has grown into one wise woman. I remember her as a teenager, before she left Raleigh to pursue her fame and fortune as an artist.” Miss Oliphant smiled, then reached across the table and patted Minni’s hand. “Well, then, my moon child, go on and do your job. Your sister relies on you more than you know. You’ll see.”

M
inni approached the rows of chairs where everyone sat watching the girl onstage parade around while a lady read from a card about her awards, school and volunteer activities and hobbies.

Why was Keira sitting next to Alisha? Was she actually trying to buddy up to that stuck-up girl? Alisha had told them she’d been doing pageants since she was five years old. Could Keira possibly think she had something to learn from her?

Minni sat in the first empty chair she saw, a couple rows behind her sister. Keira glanced in her direction, then went back to watching the girl onstage. No smile or “How’d it go?” or anything.

Minni crossed her arms. She tried not to let Keira’s brush-off bother her, but it did.

The rehearsal wore on. Every time Minni tried to talk to
her sister, she was at the center of a circle of girls, and soon Minni understood.

The ocean she’d felt in the dressing room was still there. And she was floating out in it, in a boat all by herself.

I
n the car, Grandmother Johnson wanted all the details, but Minni didn’t feel like talking. She only spoke one or two words at a time.

Did they have the opening number down?

Yes.

Had they rehearsed their talents in front of everyone?

No, because the talent portion was optional.

Was the girl Alisha good?

She was okay.

Keira’s mouth was padlocked.

At home, Keira went straight to the attic. Minni went to the bathroom to wash her face and brush her teeth. She stared at her big blue eyes in the mirror, then scrutinized her face, trying to decide which of her features were “black” and which were “white.” So she had Mama’s round eyes and fuller lips than Keira. Why couldn’t she have been born with darker skin, brown eyes and dark, curly hair as well?

Yes, that would make her stand out back home—probably even more than she felt she did already—but at least then she and Keira could stand out in the same way…
together
. At least then no one would question whether she was really black.

She looked in the mirror again, taking in the overall effect. If she had been alive when schools were segregated, she would have insisted she go to a black school, even if people tried to make her go to a white one because of how she looked. She had a black mama and a black sister and lots of black relatives. Eight silly little genes weren’t going to keep her from being black, too.

Why did people have to be so obsessed with this color stuff anyway? It all made her so mad.

She said good night to Grandmother Johnson and slowly climbed the creaky stairs. Keira lay on her bed, quietly talking on her phone to Mama and Daddy. “Do you want to talk to Minni?” she asked them.

Minni shook her head. She just didn’t feel like it.

“She’s too tired,” Keira said. “I love you, too. Bye.” She hung up the phone, got into bed and stuffed her earbuds into her ears.

Minni put on her pajamas and turned out the light. She slipped under her covers and looked out the window. A full moon shone in the dark night sky. “Keira?” She looked toward her sister.

Keira took out an earbud. “What?” The sound of her tumbling routine music spilled out.

“I’m really sorry for all the stupid things you’ve had to deal with…back home. I get it now, I think. How hard it is to look different.”

Keira turned off the music and rolled toward her. “Do you think you’re better than me?”

Minni’s heart dropped. She pushed up to her elbow.
“What?
How could you even—? Why would I think I’m better than you?”

“Don’t play dumb, Minni.” Keira sat up. “You know, to a lot of people lighter is considered better.”

“Not to me!”

“Our grandmother sure seems to think so. And you don’t know how many times I defended you today to girls I heard saying you probably thought you were ‘all that’ because you’re light-skinned. They think you’re stuck up because you didn’t try to talk to anyone. Why didn’t you try to talk to anyone?”

Girls had been talking behind her back? Panic rose in Minni’s chest. She pushed herself all the way up and looked across the darkness that separated them. “I don’t think I’m better than you.”

“Maybe you do.”

“But I
want
to be darker.” Minni reached out her hands as if Keira could touch them with a magic wand and make them as brown as her own.

“Not that I have a problem with my color,” Keira said, “but you don’t know what you’re asking for. And it doesn’t mean you couldn’t still think you’re better.”

“I don’t!”

“You could. Deep down in your heart. So deep that you don’t even know about it.” Keira leaned against the wall.

“How can I think it if I don’t even know about it?”

“Remember what Mom says? People keep secrets—even from themselves. Like Dad and his fear of getting old.”

That made Minni stop and look at her chest. Buried
below the blackness Mama said was hidden in the soil of her soul, could there be something hidden even deeper—something that told her her skin was somehow better than Keira’s? Just
thinking
about thinking she was better than Keira made her want to cry.

She rushed to Keira’s side and, in the glowing light of the moon, begged her with her eyes to take her hand, touch her skin. “You
know
I don’t think I’m better. Tell me you know.”

Keira kept her hands clasped around her legs and looked out her window.

Minni collapsed against the wall. The thought that there could be something like that lurking in a shadowy corner of her heart, prowling like a tiger, just waiting to pounce and tear everything apart…

Keira put her earbuds back in and lay down.

Minni rose. Her body had never felt so heavy. She lay on top of her blankets, still as a log washed up on the beach, but roiling inside like the ocean during a storm.