Day four of Baseball Theme Week already? That feels quick to me. But apparently it's true, so today we write about: twins.
Hung out with Max at our favorite coffee shop while Kat got her haircut this morning. It's been a while since we've been there and it was a little startling to be seated at a table with Max sitting across from me, on his own chair. He was mostly steady and I only had a couple of minor heart attacks when he seemed to forget where the edge of his seat was.
Here's a picture I took to commemorate the occasion:
This evening I picked blackberries with Becky for tomorrow's boxes and this week's bakery order. And possibly for Kat's mom to make jam with, as there were more than I was expecting.
The Twins jointly held the position of Navigator on the unnamed ship. Now, there are two things that might surprise you about that statement. The second is easier to explain, so we shall begin with that: the nameless ship was born not from a dearth of creativity but from a desire to remain anonymous.
If there was no name associated with the ship, then it was nearly impossible for her or her crew to gain a reputation - of any sort, good or bad. Each sailor was encouraged to refer to their boat by a different name at each port of call, leaving behind a trail of confusion and making each stop a blank slate. They could be whoever they wished to be every time they stepped ashore.
So that's that. Now, to the matter of two Navigators on a single vessel.
The Twins, who unlike their ship did in fact have names, were usually collective referred to as such: The Twins. On the odd occasion that they were seen separately a gender was tacked on to the end of their moniker: Twin Boy or Twin Girl.
Each of them were highly skilled in their trade and any crew would have considered themselves lucky to have either twin guiding their voyage. And it was not like their abilities were stronger together; they performed equally without the other. It's just that... well, they didn't like to.
Be apart, that is. Not out of some sibling attachment or loyalty or comfort, mind you. It was more along the lines of, if they were apart too long they might forget where they were in their decades long argument. And then, if too much time passed, the whole thing could be entirely forgotten.
And then who would be declared the winner?
The Twins agreed on very, very little. The ship's current speed was not one of those things. Nor was their position on whatever map they happened to be consulting. Nor was... well, I could go on for quite some time.
The point is that when they did agree on something, everyone on board took notice. So when word began to spread that the Twins were amiably discussing the strange coincidence that Padre Diego's specified route happened to take them on a wide detour that passed within sight of a miniscule island hosting a stranded, slightly mad pirate... questions began to be asked.