ll out her emotions in words.

"We'd talked about it before, you know--soon as the obstetrician found
out that I was going to have twins. And Jim ... Jim said that we
shouldn't name them alike unless they were identical twins or mirror
twins. If they were fraternal twins, we'd just name them as if they'd
been ordinary brothers or sisters or whatever. You know?" She looked at
the doctor, her eyes pleading for understanding.

"I know," he said.

"And Jim was always kidding. If they were girls, he said, we ought to
call them Flora and Dora, or Annie and Fanny, or maybe Susie and
Floozie. He was always kidding about it. You know?"

"I know," said the doctor.

"And then ... and then when they _were_ identical boys, he was very
sensible about it. He was always so sensible. 'We'll call them Martin
and Bartholomew,' he said. 'Then if they want to call themselves Mart
and Bart, they can, but they won't be stuck with any rhyming names if
they don't want them.' Jim was always very thoughtful that way, Doctor.
Very thoughtful."

She seemed suddenly to realize that she was crying and took a
handkerchief out of her sleeve to dab at her eyes and face.

"I'll have to quit crying," she said, trying to sound very brave and
very strong. "After all, it could have been worse, couldn't it? I mean,
the radiation could have killed my boy, too. Jim's dead, yes, and I've
got to get used to that. But I still have two boys to take care of, and
they'll need me."

"Yes, Mrs. Stanton, they will," said the doctor. "They'll both need you
very much. And you'll have to be very gentle and very careful with both
of them."

"How ... how do you mean that?" she asked.

The doctor settled back in his chair and chose his words carefully.
"Identical twins tend to identify with each other, Mrs. Stanton. There
is a great deal of empathy between people who are not only of the same
age, but genetically identical. If they were both completely healthy,
there would normally be very little trouble in their education at home
or in school. Any of the standard texts on psychodynamics in education
will show you the pitfalls to avoid when dealing with identical
siblings.

"But your sons are no longer identical, Mrs. Stanton. One is normal,
healthy, and lively. The other is ... well, as you know, he is slow,
sluggish, and badly co-ordinated. The condition may improve with time,
but, until we know more about such damage than we do now, he will remain
an invalid.