Date: Sat, 6 Oct 2001 04:55:47 -0400
From: C. E. Jordan <c.e._Jordan@MailAndNews.com>
Subject: ELI AND EVA 3

ELI AND EVA
c.e. _jordan@mailandnews.com

Copyright by c.e. Jordan


(from E&E 2)

     "You got a boner!"   Eva stage-whispered, abruptly breaking the mood.
The children were seized by another onslaught of the giggles at the
naughty word. When they were quiet again Eva said wistfully, "I can't wait
`till Hans comes tomorrow, I'm so glad we met him."

     "Yeah, he seems real nice."

     That night Eva's collection of teddy bears found refuge on Eli's bed,
while he slept wrapped up in the protective warmth of his sister's tight
embrace.
___________

                                                  ELI AND EVA 3


     The rain eased into a light drizzle, but the children still had their
noses
pressed to the windowpane when a figure turned into the lane leading to
their house.

     "Oh, he's here!, Hans is here finally," Eli said excitedly. Remembering
Helga wasn't home, Eva raced off to the front door with Eli trailing just
behind. They opened the door while Hans was still coming up the stairs.
Then, there he was inside the door, dressed in a slick yellow rain coat,
carrying a knapsack, an unopened black umbrella, and wearing a big
smile. The twins helped him peel off the wet coat and hung it with the
umbrella in a closet just off the entrance way. Now they stood looking at
Hans tongue-tied by an unexpected attack of shyness. Finally Eva
stammered, "We...we thought you weren't gonna come."

     "Sorry, I should have called. I was waiting for Papa to come home; he
was late because of the rain." Hans pulled off his cap and shook his head
vigorously, releasing his marvelous hair. The  long, thick dreadlocks,
red-gold under the warm light framed his wet, freckled face.

     An hour later they were playing video games in Eli's room when the
phone rang. "Oh, hi dad," Eli was surprised to hear his father's voice. He
usually never called before coming home.

     "Listen son, I won't be home until tomorrow night, I have to be at an
important meeting out of town, let me talk to Helga."

     "Helga had to go to the dentist Dad, it's just Eva an' me, an'..."

     "Alright," his father broke in, "you guys are teenagers now, I'm sure you
can take care of yourselves, just make sure you get something to eat...got
to run, bye."

     Eli stood there holding the phone, looking crushed and more
convinced than ever that his father really couldn't care less about them.
While Eva took her turn at the game, Hans was observing Eli with pity. It
bothered him that the twins seemed so sad all the time. He wanted them
to be happy. He got up off the floor and walked over to Eli, took the phone
out of his hand and put it back on the receiver. Eva stopped playing to look
at them. Eli's eyes glazed over, on the verge of tears. "What happened?"
asked Hans.

     "Oh nothing, Dad's not coming home tonight, an' he didn't care
whether we were alone or not." And in spite of himself tears ran down his
cheeks.

     Hans did the only thing he could think of at the moment. He took the
boy into his arms and held him close. He stroked Eli's hair and back,
cooing to him as if he was a baby. Eli held on tightly. For that moment the
older boy was the only solid thing in a world that had dissolved around
him. Then he realized that Hans was kissing him; soft lips brushed Eli's
cheeks, his eyes, kissing away his tears. Eli also realized that he liked it,
that tenderness. But he pushed away gently and saw Eva looking up at
them in wonder, her eyes big.

     "Listen," Hans said addressing Eva, "I can stay over tonight and keep
you company if you want me to, I'll just call home and ask for permission."

     "You, will?" asked Eva and Eli at the same time. This curious stereo
question caused Hans to laugh. And that set the twins to giggling. They'd
never known anyone like Hans, he made them feel good.

     Hans made his call and settled down again between the twins. All
three lay together on the floor on blankets, sheets, and pillows they pulled
from the beds. They each took turns at the controls while playing ancient
Atari video games like Ms Packman, Dig Dug, and Donkey Kong.
Whenever it was Hans' turn, the twins didn't look at the monitor. They just
stared at him. It made the boy feel a little strange. On one side there was
Eva lying on her back looking up at him, and on his other side Eli lay, head
propped up on an arm, also looking at him.  His nice smile, his freckles,
his darker skin, were all fascinating to them.

     Finally, unable to resist the urge, Eva lightly placed inquisitive
fingers
on Hans' brown arm where the little muscles tensed and relaxed as he
maneuvered the joystick to make Ms. Packman run. He let her touch him
and didn't look away from his game. Eva was marvelling at the contrast of
their colours. Her fingers seemed so pale against Hans' honey-dark skin.
And it felt nice too, almost velvety.

     On Hans' left, Eli studied the older boy's profile as he played his game.
He watched the full lips that had kissed him part, as Hans tried to
concentrate. Eli wished to count every freckle that was sprinkled across
Hans' cheek and up turned nose, but instead, gingerly, his fingers, almost
by themselves reached out to play with the boy's hair which cascaded
over his shoulders and down his back; the clotted look of the dreadlocks
was altogether fascinating. When he touched them, Eli was surprised at
their fuzzy softness, so different from his own Caucasian silks.

     From the time they first met, Hans had trouble thinking of the twins as
individuals. In his head they were one entity 'Eva-n-Eli',  neither boy nor
girl, or maybe both in one. Something. It was confusing. Their constant
sadness made him want to take care of them, but he was only fourteen
years old--almost. All he could hope to do was distract them from
whatever their problems were. He knew only one thing, that he loved
them.

     Hans finally gave up, he couldn't concentrate on the stupid game, the
twins were driving him deliciously crazy. Their curiosity, their small
delicate touches, were stirring up feelings he just didn't know how to
handle.

     Hans dropped the antique joystick, and with his familiar laugh, spread
his arms wide to both sides and gathered the startled twins to himself,
dragging them together so that he could look down at both faces while
their bodies angled away on either side of him.

     They had that "deer caught in the headlights" look again, and didn't say
anything and didn't move. Hans kneeled between them. It was his turn to
touch. With each hand moving over a face, he felt for textures, soft
matching contours; he followed the delicate curves of foreheads,
eyebrows, noses, and ears, caressed slender necks. And on each face,
as if reading braille, his fingers traced duplicate lips, committing to
memory the rosy flush, the fullness of shape and structure, and how they
quivered in response to his touch.

(to be continued)