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Because I am an idiot, I somehow deleted my first chapter of the Caliente Clan. Luckily, I still had the text saved. Please pardon the re-post!

chapter index
| one | two |
Warnings/bonuses: Language, adult situations, nothing too shocking.

The taxi turns on a street that's located on the edge of a quiet, suburban
neighborhood. The clean white buildings and non-native palm trees give
the impression of a climate that is perpetually sunny. The blue sky is especially
welcoming today, and it's easy to see how the town got its name: Pleasantview.
That's right, Pleasantview, home of the Pleasant Family. You may have seen
them on Sunday nights, living our their day to day delights and dramas in front
on the big screen for millions of viewers. But this story isn't about the Pleasant
Family, this story is about an altogether different sort of family.
The Caliente family.
The cab fare is fifteen simoleons on the nose, but Nina passes the driver a
twenty and tells him to keep the change. She figures that he's probably the
only driver in all of Pleasantview, which means she wants to be on his good side.
Better to be out five dollars than to end up on one of those taxi cab confession
shows. Not that Nina has ever done anything sordid in the back of a taxi cab.... not yet.

Her twin sister, Dina, is standing impatiently on the front walk of a newish condo,
next to a tower of packing boxes. With her short hair and Talbots sportswear,
she fits in eerily well with the crisp, pleasant atmosphere.
"Hey," she calls, waving to her sister. "You're late. I've already unpacked everything
but your stuff."

Nina scrutinizes the condo in front of her. It's one of those over-priced, cookie-cutter
affairs, best designed for a prowling bachelor or a pair of fresh, upstart newliweds.
"I thought you said it was a cheap, shitty condo," she says, because she had been
expecting something a little more interesting, frankly.
"Are you kidding?" Dina asks, smiling. "The housing market is in the tank. They
practically gave the place away for free -- and with all the furniture, too." She looks
pleased with her own negotiating skills, and Nina has no doubt that she probably
got a superb deal on the place. Dina has a way with money.

"Come on," Dina says, opening the front door. "Let me show you around."
Nina follows her sister through the living room. The furnishings are sleek and modern,
like the office of a successful attorney. It's entirely in Dina's taste, and reminds Nina of
the home they both grew up in. They pass an efficient kitchen, just as sparse and modern
as the living room. Nina is beginning to feel like she's on the tour of a model home in a
new housing division. Maybe the television is just one of those big, plastic shells, and
the flowers are just colorfully dyed silk.
Then she catches a whiff of floral perfume and realizes that no, the flowers are the real
thing. Dina must have put them out in vases earlier in the morning.

There's just two bedrooms and one bathroom upstairs, and Dina shows Nina to the
smaller bedroom. There's nothing in it except for a bed, dressed in plain white linens,
and a brass floor lamp. It doesn't look as if there will be room for much else.
"Kind of empty," she says, in an apologetic way. "But you can decorate it however
you like."
"Thanks, Mom," Nina says, checking out the firmness of the bed. "Can I nail stuff into
the walls, too?"
"Sure," Dina says, missing the joke, and then she announces that she needs to pee
and disappears into the bathroom, leaving Nina alone to get acquainted with her
new surroundings.
Since there's so little to get acquainted with, she looks out one of the tall windows,
out into the backyard. There's not really a backyard, though, just a stretch of green
emptiness that seems to go on forever. It seems like an extension of her green,
barren bedroom.
Why Pleasantview? They both have unpleasant memories of Sim City -- memories
they would both like to escape -- but a move to Pleasantview forces the issue. The
sunny, cheery landscape makes Nina scowl and long for a bit of squalor. A blob of
graffiti or a tipped-over dumpster. Anything to make it seem like less of a television set.
"Come on," Dina says, coming up behind her and catching her by surprise. "I've got one
more thing to show you."

She leads her to the rooftop, which has been tripped out with a bubbling hot tub, wet bar,
stereo, and a pair of chaise lounge chairs. There's a telescope in the corner, too, standing
gawkily like a nerd at a rock concert -- and betraying Dina's science background.
"Check it out," she says, pressing an eye to the telescope's view finder. "You can see all of
Pleasantview from here."
"Hey, I can see all of Pleasantview from here, and I don't even have a telescope."
Dina ignores her sister's quip and continues to gaze through the view finder. "There's the
house where they film the Pleasant Family. I can see the catering trucks. Oooh, and look,
there's ever a trailer park. I wonder who lives there?" She straightens up suddenly, a bit
somber. "I found the Goth mansion. That's where Michael's sister lived."
"Oh right," Nina says breezily. "What was her name? Bellatrix?"
"No, it was Bella, you big Harry Potter geek."
Nina smiles faintly. "Better than a Twilight dork."
Dina crosses her arms over her chest. "She disappeared, you know," Dina says. "Bella Goth,
not Bella Swan."
"Yeah, I remember you telling me that."
"But I never know if you're listening to me!" Dina gives her a light poke in the arm.
"I always listen to you," Nina says, and means it.

But even as Dina continues talking, Nina gazes down and takes in the view of the town,
her thoughts drifting away, her sister's voice fading with them.


I don't know why, but no one ever believes me when I tell them that I had a normal
childhood. Maybe it's because our family was a little wealthy. People always assume t
hat the wealthy lead exciting and scandalous lives. But our lives were ordinary.
Boring, even.

I was always pretty bored, anyway. I had no reason to be, and I should have been more
appreciative of those times. But I wasn't. Kids are stupid though, right?

My Mother's parents were from Turkey, and she had pretty traditional ideas about a
woman's role within the family. She could have hired a nanny or a maid to look after
both us and the house, but she didn't; she took care of everything herself, and all while
wearing a dress and high heels.

Dad was a public relations guy for SimCo labs, so he was gone a lot. SimCo makes
all those drugs for diseases that I've never heard of anyone having, like restless liver
syndrome and dry-eye-itis. They must be a real bitch to live with, though, because SimCo
is always listed as one of the top ten richest companies in the country. Since Dad handled
their "image," I suppose he must be at least partially responsible for that.

People were forever asking me what it was like to have a twin. "It's like having a sister,"
I'd tell them. Even though we're clearly fraternal twins, we both got the same questions
identical twins get. "If your sister cuts herself, can you feel it?" "If your sister was sad, would
you know?" Answer: no and no. And thank god for that.

I have red hair, Dina has blond hair. That should be enough for people to get the hint, but
I guess not. Then again, the names Nina and Dina probably don't help. You'd think a man
named Flamenco would be a bit kinder to his daughters when the time comes to name them.
I always wanted Dina's blond hair, though. I'm the only person in my family with red hair. It
doesn't bother me anymore, but I guess it used to. Probably because adults were always
making a big deal out of it. "How'd you end up with a little red head?" they'd ask, as if I was
a factory model that my parents hadn't requested. Adults are always acting like kids can't
hear them, though.

Dina and I always got on well, but our personalities are pretty different, if you want the truth.

When we were younger, it seemed like I was the twin who was in charge, while she sort of
tagged along, lost in her own world. She was happy to let me take the lead, even though I
didn't especially want it. When I wasn't around she would slip into her lazy daydreams,
sealing herself off in their envelope completely.

Shaking her out of those reveries was no easy task. I still don't know where she went off to
back then, and I doubt I'd ever catch her daydreaming these days.

By the time we were in high school she had transformed herself into that rare creature: a girl
who is equally studious and popular. She was the class president, actually. And I was the class...
Well, there's not an official yearbook name for what I was.

I've never been as outgoing or friendly as Dina, really, but I still had friends. They came and
went... or really, I came and went.... Anyway, they were short lived friendships, but in that short
life-span they always meant something. Because I knew that they wouldn't last long, that made
them all the sweeter. It gave me all the more reason to throw myself in the deep end, and just
get on with the drowning.
I was always in over my head.

If my reputation bothered Dina, she never let me know about it. She usually kept judgments
like that to herself.

So for better or worse, we were a happy, normal family.

That's what I always thought.

At college, Dina and I were housed in the same residence hall. She took to her studies
more fervently than ever, studying science, math, and physics. I never did pick a major, myself.
I was too busy coming out of my shell, enjoying the life of an Undeclared.

I think it's safe to say that people no longer took us for identical twins.

I rarely ever saw Dina cut loose and put her studying aside. She must have had a clear,
definite path before her, and she was disciplined enough not to let anything distract her
from her goals.

And if the distraction was right in front of her, she would simply turn around and walk away
from it.

My only goal at college was to make sure I attended all the big parties. I was getting dressed
for the Tri Delt's spring blow out when the phone call came. When I heard the official-sounding
voice on the other end say "May I speak to Miss Nina or Dina Caliente?" my first thought was a
bitchy Oh great, I'm going to miss the lighting of the bonfire. And the men's wet tee-shirt contest.
It was a thought I've always regretted.
What happens when a car hits a sudden spring thunderstorm? Nothing good.

The funeral was beautiful. At least, what I saw of it behind my oak tree.
Dina was sat up front, where I should have been, but there were people in attendance who I'd never
seen before, people of all ages and ethnicities. Who were these people? Why were they able to sit
in their plastic chairs and listen to the eulogy when I wasn't?

When darkness came I finally gathered up enough courage to visit their graves. There were flowers
everywhere, with an especially beautiful and giant arrangement placed behind each tombstone. "With
Dina's love," one said. "With Nina's love," said the other.
I hadn't ordered any flowers. I had barely made it out of bed.

I don't know how long I was there, crouched in the grave dirt and crying, but when I felt a hand
touch the back of my head I knew it belonged to Dina. I don't know how she found me that night,
all I know is that she was there and I was grateful. Maybe we have psychic twin telepathy after all.
I never made it back to college, but Dina did. Dina stuck to the path.

She was interning at SimCo for her senior year when she met Michael. Michael was a top
researcher, an avid fisherman, and a widower. He was also more than thirty years her senior.

She says that it was Michael who first bought her a coffee in the break room, but I'm not
so sure about that.

Things developed quickly between them. "Do I hear wedding bells?" I asked Dina over the
phone, joking.
"Actually, you do," she said.

It was a small, backyard wedding. Just me and a few of Dina's college friends, and a few
co-workers from SimCo.
I can't say I wasn't a little skeptical of their May-December romance, but it occurred to me that
maybe our parents' death had left her as lonely as it had left me. And maybe she was really in
love -- truly and deeply. Regardless, I wasn't going to be the one to stand in the way of her and
Michael's happiness.

I only wish that it had lasted longer.

When Michael died, I was living in our parents house. Jobless and shiftless. It was strange to be alone
in such a huge, empty place. I kept expecting to feel Mom and Dad's ghosts around me, but instead I
felt the ghost of something else. My younger self, maybe.
When Dina called and told me she was moving to Pleasantview for a fresh start, I thought she was mental.
Leave the city for the suburbs? More than double the length of her commute? But when she asked me
to move in with her, I said yes at once.
It's not like I had anything better to do. I was going nowhere, and doing nothing.
Might as well do that in the company of my sister.

Dina and Nina spend their first night in Pleasantview in the living room, gorging themselves
on pizza and wine. The kitchen might be modern and efficient, but it also has no food. So
delivery it is, though the pie is nothing special. But it's hot and greasy and something to put
in her stomach, so Nina eats three slices. Dina stops at just one. So really, it's only Nina
who's gorging.
"You know," Nina says through a cheesy bite. "I feel a little weird eating pizza in front of Michael's
ashes. Why do you still have them, anyway? Shouldn't they be sprinkled into the waters of Blue
Lake, or something?"

Dina leans back and gives a light laugh. "I don't know, I just like keeping them close to me."
She glances sideways at the urn, her gaze almost fond. "It makes me feel like I'm keeping his
spirit close. Like his spirit is watching over me."

Nina stares at her, the pizza feeling like a lead ball in her stomach. Dina's a scientist -- to hear
her talk about spirits in any capacity is odd and unseemly. If she has a spiritual side, it's one
Nina has never seen before.
Sometimes, Nina wishes she could tell what her sister is thinking and feeling.

Nina heads for bed with all sorts of good intentions for tomorrow. Tomorrow she will look for a job, and
cook a healthy dinner instead of ordering pizza. Tomorrow she will stick to the path, like Dina sticks to
the path.
Nina looks out the window and sees her sister crossing the street. It's the middle of the night and she's walking
somewhere, with purpose and intent.
Where does her sister's path lead, exactly?





chapter index
| one | two |
Warnings/bonuses: Language, adult situations, nothing too shocking.

The taxi turns on a street that's located on the edge of a quiet, suburban
neighborhood. The clean white buildings and non-native palm trees give
the impression of a climate that is perpetually sunny. The blue sky is especially
welcoming today, and it's easy to see how the town got its name: Pleasantview.
That's right, Pleasantview, home of the Pleasant Family. You may have seen
them on Sunday nights, living our their day to day delights and dramas in front
on the big screen for millions of viewers. But this story isn't about the Pleasant
Family, this story is about an altogether different sort of family.
The Caliente family.

The cab fare is fifteen simoleons on the nose, but Nina passes the driver a
twenty and tells him to keep the change. She figures that he's probably the
only driver in all of Pleasantview, which means she wants to be on his good side.
Better to be out five dollars than to end up on one of those taxi cab confession
shows. Not that Nina has ever done anything sordid in the back of a taxi cab.... not yet.

Her twin sister, Dina, is standing impatiently on the front walk of a newish condo,
next to a tower of packing boxes. With her short hair and Talbots sportswear,
she fits in eerily well with the crisp, pleasant atmosphere.
"Hey," she calls, waving to her sister. "You're late. I've already unpacked everything
but your stuff."

Nina scrutinizes the condo in front of her. It's one of those over-priced, cookie-cutter
affairs, best designed for a prowling bachelor or a pair of fresh, upstart newliweds.
"I thought you said it was a cheap, shitty condo," she says, because she had been
expecting something a little more interesting, frankly.
"Are you kidding?" Dina asks, smiling. "The housing market is in the tank. They
practically gave the place away for free -- and with all the furniture, too." She looks
pleased with her own negotiating skills, and Nina has no doubt that she probably
got a superb deal on the place. Dina has a way with money.

"Come on," Dina says, opening the front door. "Let me show you around."
Nina follows her sister through the living room. The furnishings are sleek and modern,
like the office of a successful attorney. It's entirely in Dina's taste, and reminds Nina of
the home they both grew up in. They pass an efficient kitchen, just as sparse and modern
as the living room. Nina is beginning to feel like she's on the tour of a model home in a
new housing division. Maybe the television is just one of those big, plastic shells, and
the flowers are just colorfully dyed silk.
Then she catches a whiff of floral perfume and realizes that no, the flowers are the real
thing. Dina must have put them out in vases earlier in the morning.

There's just two bedrooms and one bathroom upstairs, and Dina shows Nina to the
smaller bedroom. There's nothing in it except for a bed, dressed in plain white linens,
and a brass floor lamp. It doesn't look as if there will be room for much else.
"Kind of empty," she says, in an apologetic way. "But you can decorate it however
you like."
"Thanks, Mom," Nina says, checking out the firmness of the bed. "Can I nail stuff into
the walls, too?"
"Sure," Dina says, missing the joke, and then she announces that she needs to pee
and disappears into the bathroom, leaving Nina alone to get acquainted with her
new surroundings.
Since there's so little to get acquainted with, she looks out one of the tall windows,
out into the backyard. There's not really a backyard, though, just a stretch of green
emptiness that seems to go on forever. It seems like an extension of her green,
barren bedroom.
Why Pleasantview? They both have unpleasant memories of Sim City -- memories
they would both like to escape -- but a move to Pleasantview forces the issue. The
sunny, cheery landscape makes Nina scowl and long for a bit of squalor. A blob of
graffiti or a tipped-over dumpster. Anything to make it seem like less of a television set.
"Come on," Dina says, coming up behind her and catching her by surprise. "I've got one
more thing to show you."

She leads her to the rooftop, which has been tripped out with a bubbling hot tub, wet bar,
stereo, and a pair of chaise lounge chairs. There's a telescope in the corner, too, standing
gawkily like a nerd at a rock concert -- and betraying Dina's science background.
"Check it out," she says, pressing an eye to the telescope's view finder. "You can see all of
Pleasantview from here."
"Hey, I can see all of Pleasantview from here, and I don't even have a telescope."
Dina ignores her sister's quip and continues to gaze through the view finder. "There's the
house where they film the Pleasant Family. I can see the catering trucks. Oooh, and look,
there's ever a trailer park. I wonder who lives there?" She straightens up suddenly, a bit
somber. "I found the Goth mansion. That's where Michael's sister lived."
"Oh right," Nina says breezily. "What was her name? Bellatrix?"
"No, it was Bella, you big Harry Potter geek."
Nina smiles faintly. "Better than a Twilight dork."
Dina crosses her arms over her chest. "She disappeared, you know," Dina says. "Bella Goth,
not Bella Swan."
"Yeah, I remember you telling me that."
"But I never know if you're listening to me!" Dina gives her a light poke in the arm.
"I always listen to you," Nina says, and means it.

But even as Dina continues talking, Nina gazes down and takes in the view of the town,
her thoughts drifting away, her sister's voice fading with them.
****


I don't know why, but no one ever believes me when I tell them that I had a normal
childhood. Maybe it's because our family was a little wealthy. People always assume t
hat the wealthy lead exciting and scandalous lives. But our lives were ordinary.
Boring, even.

I was always pretty bored, anyway. I had no reason to be, and I should have been more
appreciative of those times. But I wasn't. Kids are stupid though, right?

My Mother's parents were from Turkey, and she had pretty traditional ideas about a
woman's role within the family. She could have hired a nanny or a maid to look after
both us and the house, but she didn't; she took care of everything herself, and all while
wearing a dress and high heels.

Dad was a public relations guy for SimCo labs, so he was gone a lot. SimCo makes
all those drugs for diseases that I've never heard of anyone having, like restless liver
syndrome and dry-eye-itis. They must be a real bitch to live with, though, because SimCo
is always listed as one of the top ten richest companies in the country. Since Dad handled
their "image," I suppose he must be at least partially responsible for that.

People were forever asking me what it was like to have a twin. "It's like having a sister,"
I'd tell them. Even though we're clearly fraternal twins, we both got the same questions
identical twins get. "If your sister cuts herself, can you feel it?" "If your sister was sad, would
you know?" Answer: no and no. And thank god for that.

I have red hair, Dina has blond hair. That should be enough for people to get the hint, but
I guess not. Then again, the names Nina and Dina probably don't help. You'd think a man
named Flamenco would be a bit kinder to his daughters when the time comes to name them.
I always wanted Dina's blond hair, though. I'm the only person in my family with red hair. It
doesn't bother me anymore, but I guess it used to. Probably because adults were always
making a big deal out of it. "How'd you end up with a little red head?" they'd ask, as if I was
a factory model that my parents hadn't requested. Adults are always acting like kids can't
hear them, though.

Dina and I always got on well, but our personalities are pretty different, if you want the truth.

When we were younger, it seemed like I was the twin who was in charge, while she sort of
tagged along, lost in her own world. She was happy to let me take the lead, even though I
didn't especially want it. When I wasn't around she would slip into her lazy daydreams,
sealing herself off in their envelope completely.

Shaking her out of those reveries was no easy task. I still don't know where she went off to
back then, and I doubt I'd ever catch her daydreaming these days.

By the time we were in high school she had transformed herself into that rare creature: a girl
who is equally studious and popular. She was the class president, actually. And I was the class...
Well, there's not an official yearbook name for what I was.

I've never been as outgoing or friendly as Dina, really, but I still had friends. They came and
went... or really, I came and went.... Anyway, they were short lived friendships, but in that short
life-span they always meant something. Because I knew that they wouldn't last long, that made
them all the sweeter. It gave me all the more reason to throw myself in the deep end, and just
get on with the drowning.
I was always in over my head.

If my reputation bothered Dina, she never let me know about it. She usually kept judgments
like that to herself.

So for better or worse, we were a happy, normal family.

That's what I always thought.

At college, Dina and I were housed in the same residence hall. She took to her studies
more fervently than ever, studying science, math, and physics. I never did pick a major, myself.
I was too busy coming out of my shell, enjoying the life of an Undeclared.

I think it's safe to say that people no longer took us for identical twins.

I rarely ever saw Dina cut loose and put her studying aside. She must have had a clear,
definite path before her, and she was disciplined enough not to let anything distract her
from her goals.

And if the distraction was right in front of her, she would simply turn around and walk away
from it.

My only goal at college was to make sure I attended all the big parties. I was getting dressed
for the Tri Delt's spring blow out when the phone call came. When I heard the official-sounding
voice on the other end say "May I speak to Miss Nina or Dina Caliente?" my first thought was a
bitchy Oh great, I'm going to miss the lighting of the bonfire. And the men's wet tee-shirt contest.
It was a thought I've always regretted.
What happens when a car hits a sudden spring thunderstorm? Nothing good.

The funeral was beautiful. At least, what I saw of it behind my oak tree.
Dina was sat up front, where I should have been, but there were people in attendance who I'd never
seen before, people of all ages and ethnicities. Who were these people? Why were they able to sit
in their plastic chairs and listen to the eulogy when I wasn't?

When darkness came I finally gathered up enough courage to visit their graves. There were flowers
everywhere, with an especially beautiful and giant arrangement placed behind each tombstone. "With
Dina's love," one said. "With Nina's love," said the other.
I hadn't ordered any flowers. I had barely made it out of bed.

I don't know how long I was there, crouched in the grave dirt and crying, but when I felt a hand
touch the back of my head I knew it belonged to Dina. I don't know how she found me that night,
all I know is that she was there and I was grateful. Maybe we have psychic twin telepathy after all.
I never made it back to college, but Dina did. Dina stuck to the path.

She was interning at SimCo for her senior year when she met Michael. Michael was a top
researcher, an avid fisherman, and a widower. He was also more than thirty years her senior.

She says that it was Michael who first bought her a coffee in the break room, but I'm not
so sure about that.

Things developed quickly between them. "Do I hear wedding bells?" I asked Dina over the
phone, joking.
"Actually, you do," she said.

It was a small, backyard wedding. Just me and a few of Dina's college friends, and a few
co-workers from SimCo.
I can't say I wasn't a little skeptical of their May-December romance, but it occurred to me that
maybe our parents' death had left her as lonely as it had left me. And maybe she was really in
love -- truly and deeply. Regardless, I wasn't going to be the one to stand in the way of her and
Michael's happiness.

I only wish that it had lasted longer.

When Michael died, I was living in our parents house. Jobless and shiftless. It was strange to be alone
in such a huge, empty place. I kept expecting to feel Mom and Dad's ghosts around me, but instead I
felt the ghost of something else. My younger self, maybe.
When Dina called and told me she was moving to Pleasantview for a fresh start, I thought she was mental.
Leave the city for the suburbs? More than double the length of her commute? But when she asked me
to move in with her, I said yes at once.
It's not like I had anything better to do. I was going nowhere, and doing nothing.
Might as well do that in the company of my sister.
****

Dina and Nina spend their first night in Pleasantview in the living room, gorging themselves
on pizza and wine. The kitchen might be modern and efficient, but it also has no food. So
delivery it is, though the pie is nothing special. But it's hot and greasy and something to put
in her stomach, so Nina eats three slices. Dina stops at just one. So really, it's only Nina
who's gorging.
"You know," Nina says through a cheesy bite. "I feel a little weird eating pizza in front of Michael's
ashes. Why do you still have them, anyway? Shouldn't they be sprinkled into the waters of Blue
Lake, or something?"

Dina leans back and gives a light laugh. "I don't know, I just like keeping them close to me."
She glances sideways at the urn, her gaze almost fond. "It makes me feel like I'm keeping his
spirit close. Like his spirit is watching over me."

Nina stares at her, the pizza feeling like a lead ball in her stomach. Dina's a scientist -- to hear
her talk about spirits in any capacity is odd and unseemly. If she has a spiritual side, it's one
Nina has never seen before.
Sometimes, Nina wishes she could tell what her sister is thinking and feeling.

Nina heads for bed with all sorts of good intentions for tomorrow. Tomorrow she will look for a job, and
cook a healthy dinner instead of ordering pizza. Tomorrow she will stick to the path, like Dina sticks to
the path.
Nina looks out the window and sees her sister crossing the street. It's the middle of the night and she's walking
somewhere, with purpose and intent.
Where does her sister's path lead, exactly?
****




**** continue to chapter two