We tried everything—went right home when we could have been playing with the other kids after school—got Maw to sing for us by the hour—read out loud to her—inveigled her into the spring woods to pick flowers and look for birds' nests. Oh, it was a brave battle put up by a twelve- and a ten-year-old against something alien and, somehow, far wiser than we.
At first Maw managed to banish her visions when she heard us come into the yard. Then we had to strive hard and harder to break the spell.
And one day we both became twins!
It happened when Annette and I came home one time the teacher took sick. It was much earlier than usual and we caught Maw rocking happily before the mirror, gossiping with her reflection.
"I'm so glad you brought your own children to visit me today, Mrs. Jones," she exclaimed the moment our images appeared in the glass behind hers. "My Tommy and Annette don't have many playmates, we live so far from any neighbors. I'm sure they'll be much happier now."
"Aw, Maw," Annette protested as we instinctively ducked out of range. "Those ain't teal children. You're just looking at us in the looking glass."
But the damage had been done. For once in my life I saw grandmother grow really angry.
"I'll have none of your sass, Annette," she stormed, rising and straightening her back until it cracked. "Mrs. Jones, I don't know what has come over my younguns. Now, will you two say you're sorry or must I whip you right before company?"
Shamefaced and shaken, we apologized to the empty air. And from that hour Mrs. Jones and her ghostly brats became our constant companions.