People look at twins and assume they should be alike. Especially identical
twins. Children with the same height and features and, if the parents are
unintentionally cruel, the same haircut and the same clothes.
At first, there were no noticeable differences. It was only after the fact that they wondered if it had something to do with his birth. There'd been that brief period where he didn't seem to be breathing. But then everything had been fine. It seemed fine.
Perhaps it was a runting effect. Sometimes twins compete while they're still in their mother's womb. One takes more nutrition, leaving the other without. Looking back, David had always seemed to fuss less than his twin. He was just much easier to love. Sammy had always been more delicate. He caught all of the little bugs that went around whereas David seemed to be immune. Maybe it was because of this that David always seemed to take the lead and Sammy followed.
Both of the boys had started talking rather late, but the pediatrician assured the Camdens that this was often the case with twins. They often develop their own private language, you see. Especially in a large family where they're left together quite a lot of the time. When they're part of a large family they typically have relatively little individual adult attention. It's only natural.
Was Sam just a little quieter? He spoke less clearly, stuttering slightly and with a cute little lisp. Visitors couldn't always make out what he was saying, but his family understood him and David would sometimes interpret. He wasn't as physical a kid, and not as coordinated as his brother. Mary had managed to teach little David to shoot a hoop (with a bit of help), but Sam couldn't seem to get it. After a while, he'd just shake his head when Mary suggested they try it.
The first hint of a problem came in kindergarten. David quickly picked up letters and then words and then moved on to stringing words into sentences. Sam brought home a picture proudly labelled "maZ". But lots of kids do that.
Everybody passes kindergarten, at least in Glenoak. The real problems began in Grade one. Ms. Riddle couldn't understand how two seemingly identical children could perform so differently. "Why can't you be more like your brother?" After Christmas it got worse. Her husband left her for a younger man and she reverted to her bitter single woman state. The whole class suffered, but Sam became the focus of her dislike of the male of the species. "Don't be silly, of course you can." "Stop being lazy, Sammy. You need to work harder." The other kids in the class quickly picked up on the teacher's attitude and schoolyard was soon filled with taunts of "Silly Sammy. Silly Sammy." It seemed to please her.
The hardest cross that Sam had to bear came in the form of another student, Richard Dyck (rhymes with hike not hick). Richard had age, size and coordination in his favour. Mostly, though, it was just attitude. It began with an "accidental" push off a swing. Sam started to cry and from that point on was marked as a victim.
Most of the time it was pretty insidious. Richard would just come a little too close as he passed him in the hall or the playground. Sometimes he just had to look at him. That was enough of a threat.
David and Sammy remained each other's closest friends – after all they were twins. For Sammy, this closeness was a lifeline. For David, the pressure of having an unpopular "best friend" started to take its toll. Everyone called Sam names, and David started to call him those names too. He didn't want to be bullied by Richard or one of his gang. He didn't want to be marginalized by association.
Sam passed Grade 1 on probation. He couldn't read, but it seemed wrong, even to Ms. Riddle, to split the two of them up, though otherwise she wouldn't have hesitated. "It's not just the reading, you know, he's really not very mature. His brother's such a social, outgoing child." Beneath it all, was the question, "Why can't you be more like your brother?"
The Grade 2 teacher, Ms. Graham was less certain about having Sam enter her class. When she rather tentatively suggested that it might not be wise, she was met with parental indignation. God brought them into the world together and it would be a sin to split them up.
Like Sam, David had had problems with Richard but once he started insisting that he and Sam should be able to dress differently, Richard stopped. They both like it better that way, but David benefited more than Sam did.
Both boys were smaller than the average, but what came across as skinny in Sammy was wiry in his brother. David was becoming quite good at baseball. All sports really. He was quite often chosen as Captain of one of the gym class teams. He made a point of picking Sam early on when he was, which was good because he was picked last by everyone else.
Picked last and picked on. Cornered in a hallway.
"Hello Th-th-th-th-tham I am."
Sam tried to ignore him.
"Wut-th the matter Thammy?"
Sam turned his head away.
"Ohh … ith poor little Thammy crying?"
He wasn't crying. He wasn't. He bolted for the door. Richard stayed behind, laughing.
1 Things improved somewhat in Ms. Graham's class. She made a real effort to stop the harassment in class, but it was only effective inside the classroom where transgressors could be seen and punished. Outside, during lunch and after school, the harassment seemed all the more concentrated because there wasn't an outlet in school. When classroom misbehaviours had been caught, there was also the added incentive of seeking revenge.
2
3 They say: "Tell a teacher. Tell a parent." But there's an unwritten rule in the schoolyard. You can't tell anyone.
4
5 He learned to hide the evidence when an in-class attack occurred. It was easier than having to deal with the repercussions if the teacher noticed. She meant well, but sometimes her pep talks made him feel worse. "Remember what Eleanor Roosevelt said, Sammy, 'No one can make you feel inferior without your consent.'"
To Sam, it wasn't a matter of consent, but of destiny. He couldn't remember a time when he hadn't noticed the differences between his brother and himself. He attributed the differences to David being a David. He knew all about Davids. In Sunday School they'd talked about how courageous David was – he overcame Goliath, after all, and wasn't Richard the Goliath of the school yard? There was a Samuel in the Bible too, but he didn't really do much. At least, not that they talked about in Sunday School. He told the Sunday School teacher this and she laughed. He had two whole books of the Bible named after him, after all. Sammy knew better. They might have his name on them, but they were about David.
Their parents had come to accept and recognize the differences between them. It's important to encourage children's individuality. They'd read about it in a parenting magazine. They'd tell people that "The twins each have their own unique strengths, and use them to help each other. David is a natural leader, and Sam is … really helpful."
If his role was to support his brother, he decided to be good at it. He would never be a great baseball player himself, but he was there at every game. He helped with the equipment. He cheered. And as they grew older he waited patiently as his brother would talk over the game with other players and spectators.
David was not as willing to play hero as Sam and the rest of the family were to cast him in the role. Nonetheless, while the problems with Richard and his group continued, they were not accepted passively. David set the tone by coming up with a reply to the taunts of the other group. Overnight Richard Dyck (rhymes with hike) became "Rick Dick" (both rhyme with hick). This did nothing to endear David and his friends to the older group, but there was safety in numbers and the antagonism was generally not acted upon.
Richard's group couldn't always be avoided, though. Stragglers were vulnerable. Teachers treated the situation with benign neglect. Kids would be kids.
Living in the west end of town, Sammy and David had to be especially cautious when returning from baseball games or practices. As the captain of the team, David was responsible for ensuring that all the equipment was safely put away after the game. Usually they just kept everything at home between use.
A few times the boys had caught sight of Richard and his friends, and ducked into a store to avoid meeting up. They'd tried to complain to their parents. It felt like they were being stalked. Strangely, their parents weren't concerned. "Those boys probably just want to be your friends," they said. "Why not invite them to the next Sunday School picnic?"
After a while, their ability to avoid the older boys built its own sort of confidence. Rick and the others had moved on to the local junior high so they saw them less often. It wasn't necessary to be so careful.
They were part way home from a game one day when David realized that they hadn't packed the practice balls. He turned back to get them while Sam continued home with the other equipment. As he turned the corner to Maple street he nearly ran into Rick and the others. He backed away, dropping the bag, but it was too late. In an instant, Rick had grabbed him and shoved him against the wall.
David made it to the corner, just in time to see Rick land a blow squarely at Sam's belly.
"Stop it!" he screamed.
Rick laughed when he looked around and saw that it was only David who, despite his athleticism, was, after all, quite small. He jeered at him, "Am I supposed to be afraid of you, squirt?" and swore in a way that cannot be repeated in this story if it's to maintain its G rating.
Then David put his hand in his bag and took out one of the baseballs. He aimed directly at the centre of Rick's forehead. He could see Rick scowling at him, daring him to try it. He could see Rick's friends shifting their own gaze towards him. Threatening.
And he saw Sammy on the ground, struggling to gain back the breath that had been knocked out of him.
He had never asked to be a hero.
He looked at his brother, and turned away.
At first, there were no noticeable differences. It was only after the fact that they wondered if it had something to do with his birth. There'd been that brief period where he didn't seem to be breathing. But then everything had been fine. It seemed fine.
Perhaps it was a runting effect. Sometimes twins compete while they're still in their mother's womb. One takes more nutrition, leaving the other without. Looking back, David had always seemed to fuss less than his twin. He was just much easier to love. Sammy had always been more delicate. He caught all of the little bugs that went around whereas David seemed to be immune. Maybe it was because of this that David always seemed to take the lead and Sammy followed.
Both of the boys had started talking rather late, but the pediatrician assured the Camdens that this was often the case with twins. They often develop their own private language, you see. Especially in a large family where they're left together quite a lot of the time. When they're part of a large family they typically have relatively little individual adult attention. It's only natural.
Was Sam just a little quieter? He spoke less clearly, stuttering slightly and with a cute little lisp. Visitors couldn't always make out what he was saying, but his family understood him and David would sometimes interpret. He wasn't as physical a kid, and not as coordinated as his brother. Mary had managed to teach little David to shoot a hoop (with a bit of help), but Sam couldn't seem to get it. After a while, he'd just shake his head when Mary suggested they try it.
The first hint of a problem came in kindergarten. David quickly picked up letters and then words and then moved on to stringing words into sentences. Sam brought home a picture proudly labelled "maZ". But lots of kids do that.
Everybody passes kindergarten, at least in Glenoak. The real problems began in Grade one. Ms. Riddle couldn't understand how two seemingly identical children could perform so differently. "Why can't you be more like your brother?" After Christmas it got worse. Her husband left her for a younger man and she reverted to her bitter single woman state. The whole class suffered, but Sam became the focus of her dislike of the male of the species. "Don't be silly, of course you can." "Stop being lazy, Sammy. You need to work harder." The other kids in the class quickly picked up on the teacher's attitude and schoolyard was soon filled with taunts of "Silly Sammy. Silly Sammy." It seemed to please her.
The hardest cross that Sam had to bear came in the form of another student, Richard Dyck (rhymes with hike not hick). Richard had age, size and coordination in his favour. Mostly, though, it was just attitude. It began with an "accidental" push off a swing. Sam started to cry and from that point on was marked as a victim.
Most of the time it was pretty insidious. Richard would just come a little too close as he passed him in the hall or the playground. Sometimes he just had to look at him. That was enough of a threat.
David and Sammy remained each other's closest friends – after all they were twins. For Sammy, this closeness was a lifeline. For David, the pressure of having an unpopular "best friend" started to take its toll. Everyone called Sam names, and David started to call him those names too. He didn't want to be bullied by Richard or one of his gang. He didn't want to be marginalized by association.
Sam passed Grade 1 on probation. He couldn't read, but it seemed wrong, even to Ms. Riddle, to split the two of them up, though otherwise she wouldn't have hesitated. "It's not just the reading, you know, he's really not very mature. His brother's such a social, outgoing child." Beneath it all, was the question, "Why can't you be more like your brother?"
The Grade 2 teacher, Ms. Graham was less certain about having Sam enter her class. When she rather tentatively suggested that it might not be wise, she was met with parental indignation. God brought them into the world together and it would be a sin to split them up.
Like Sam, David had had problems with Richard but once he started insisting that he and Sam should be able to dress differently, Richard stopped. They both like it better that way, but David benefited more than Sam did.
Both boys were smaller than the average, but what came across as skinny in Sammy was wiry in his brother. David was becoming quite good at baseball. All sports really. He was quite often chosen as Captain of one of the gym class teams. He made a point of picking Sam early on when he was, which was good because he was picked last by everyone else.
Picked last and picked on. Cornered in a hallway.
"Hello Th-th-th-th-tham I am."
Sam tried to ignore him.
"Wut-th the matter Thammy?"
Sam turned his head away.
"Ohh … ith poor little Thammy crying?"
He wasn't crying. He wasn't. He bolted for the door. Richard stayed behind, laughing.
1 Things improved somewhat in Ms. Graham's class. She made a real effort to stop the harassment in class, but it was only effective inside the classroom where transgressors could be seen and punished. Outside, during lunch and after school, the harassment seemed all the more concentrated because there wasn't an outlet in school. When classroom misbehaviours had been caught, there was also the added incentive of seeking revenge.
2
3 They say: "Tell a teacher. Tell a parent." But there's an unwritten rule in the schoolyard. You can't tell anyone.
4
5 He learned to hide the evidence when an in-class attack occurred. It was easier than having to deal with the repercussions if the teacher noticed. She meant well, but sometimes her pep talks made him feel worse. "Remember what Eleanor Roosevelt said, Sammy, 'No one can make you feel inferior without your consent.'"
To Sam, it wasn't a matter of consent, but of destiny. He couldn't remember a time when he hadn't noticed the differences between his brother and himself. He attributed the differences to David being a David. He knew all about Davids. In Sunday School they'd talked about how courageous David was – he overcame Goliath, after all, and wasn't Richard the Goliath of the school yard? There was a Samuel in the Bible too, but he didn't really do much. At least, not that they talked about in Sunday School. He told the Sunday School teacher this and she laughed. He had two whole books of the Bible named after him, after all. Sammy knew better. They might have his name on them, but they were about David.
Their parents had come to accept and recognize the differences between them. It's important to encourage children's individuality. They'd read about it in a parenting magazine. They'd tell people that "The twins each have their own unique strengths, and use them to help each other. David is a natural leader, and Sam is … really helpful."
If his role was to support his brother, he decided to be good at it. He would never be a great baseball player himself, but he was there at every game. He helped with the equipment. He cheered. And as they grew older he waited patiently as his brother would talk over the game with other players and spectators.
David was not as willing to play hero as Sam and the rest of the family were to cast him in the role. Nonetheless, while the problems with Richard and his group continued, they were not accepted passively. David set the tone by coming up with a reply to the taunts of the other group. Overnight Richard Dyck (rhymes with hike) became "Rick Dick" (both rhyme with hick). This did nothing to endear David and his friends to the older group, but there was safety in numbers and the antagonism was generally not acted upon.
Richard's group couldn't always be avoided, though. Stragglers were vulnerable. Teachers treated the situation with benign neglect. Kids would be kids.
Living in the west end of town, Sammy and David had to be especially cautious when returning from baseball games or practices. As the captain of the team, David was responsible for ensuring that all the equipment was safely put away after the game. Usually they just kept everything at home between use.
A few times the boys had caught sight of Richard and his friends, and ducked into a store to avoid meeting up. They'd tried to complain to their parents. It felt like they were being stalked. Strangely, their parents weren't concerned. "Those boys probably just want to be your friends," they said. "Why not invite them to the next Sunday School picnic?"
After a while, their ability to avoid the older boys built its own sort of confidence. Rick and the others had moved on to the local junior high so they saw them less often. It wasn't necessary to be so careful.
They were part way home from a game one day when David realized that they hadn't packed the practice balls. He turned back to get them while Sam continued home with the other equipment. As he turned the corner to Maple street he nearly ran into Rick and the others. He backed away, dropping the bag, but it was too late. In an instant, Rick had grabbed him and shoved him against the wall.
David made it to the corner, just in time to see Rick land a blow squarely at Sam's belly.
"Stop it!" he screamed.
Rick laughed when he looked around and saw that it was only David who, despite his athleticism, was, after all, quite small. He jeered at him, "Am I supposed to be afraid of you, squirt?" and swore in a way that cannot be repeated in this story if it's to maintain its G rating.
Then David put his hand in his bag and took out one of the baseballs. He aimed directly at the centre of Rick's forehead. He could see Rick scowling at him, daring him to try it. He could see Rick's friends shifting their own gaze towards him. Threatening.
And he saw Sammy on the ground, struggling to gain back the breath that had been knocked out of him.
He had never asked to be a hero.
He looked at his brother, and turned away.
