The savage in man is never quite eradicated.
Henry David Thoreau
Childhood Games
Ivo and Isabel were terrorists when they were little.
Their mother prided herself on her iron discipline, her domination of husband/household/neighbors/town. And where the twins conformed outwardly to appease her, inwardly they retaliated. Nothing so tiresome as frogs in governess's beds. Oh, no. Ivo trapped a Brazilian Wandering Spider, a creature so nervous and aggressive by nature even its bite was painful and the neurotoxic venom left the victim sweating in agony.
The snake in the laundry was the Golden Lancehead.
That no one ever died in their exploits can only be attributed to Heaven above.
Isabel slipped Rhubarb leaves in the salad and a dead rat in the pie for the guests and rubbed the white sap of the Manchineel on the banister for her mother's soft palms. When her inferiors looked at her and hissed that she was a witch, she told them regally, coldly, in Portuguese or Spanish or Arabic that she would flay them alive if they told her mother. With Ivo standing at her side, she was very convincing.
The neighborhood children feared them as well. Ivo was born with a Napoleon complex and the needle sword he precariously wielded was real, inherited from his Spanish great-grandfather. While the bigger boys should have bullied him by right, they respectfully skirted the Steadman twins, whispering among themselves that they were white devils.
But most shameful of all were their sexual exploits. At the age of 13, and virtually identical in Ivo's pre-adolescent casting, they tortured the most respected members of the community. Isabel would lure them in so that Ivo might play with them. And what was a married banker, a solicitor, a priest to do? They chose their victims well.
One who eagerly reached between the child's legs to discover the ruse didn't really care about the gender and continued to press against Ivo's thigh. It was the lad's first successful encounter and he proudly showed Isabel the wet stain on his shorts. She was duly impressed and they chose to target the Ambassador next.
"You never participated?" I asked curiously, trying not to enjoy the fact that others had done some jolly rotten things in life as well.
"I was a girl, Tim," she laughed. "Girls can't do that sort of thing without being ruined. It would have made me soulless."
I pondered that, the difference between growing up and male and female. It was true. James might have taken a girl from the neighboring school to a dance but at the end of the day, I was the one pressed up against the wall. I wondered if that was the reason for the rampant homosexuality at Leythe.
"It can't be easy being a girl," I said humorously to deflect the conversation back to her misdeeds.
"Or a boy," she said seriously.