The Banana Split Affair (4 page)

Another kick under the table. “What Chris means,” the real Chris said through clenched teeth, “is that she’s decided to try her hand at watercolors. I’m going to teach her.” She glared at her sister Susan looked back apologetically.

“I think that’s a tremendous idea.” Their father smiled as he helped himself to more string beans. “Susan is such an accomplished artist that it’d be great if she’d share some of that ability with Chris.”

Chris smiled. “I have a feeling Chris’ll be a fast learner. I don’t know why; it’s just a gut reaction.”

“Giving art lessons is fine,” Mrs. Pratt said, “just-as long as everyone gets her homework done first. That reminds me—don’t you have a history test tomorrow, Chris? I don’t mean to nag, but you know history isn’t exactly your best subject.”

“I’m ready for this exam, though,” Susan-as-Chris assured her. “I bet I’ll even get an A.”

Her father looked doubtful. “That’d be fine, Chris, but don’t set your goals too high. The pressure will make it that much tougher. Besides, haven’t you been doing B and C work in history all along? I don’t want you to be too disappointed.”

“I’ve got a C average right now.” Susan-as-Chris grinned. “But trust me. I know this stuff cold. I can practically guarantee that I’ll get an A.”

“It’s good to think positively, Chris,” Mrs. Pratt said gently, “but ...”

“I’ve been coached by Susan,” Susan explained. “And you know that history is one of her best subjects.”

“I’m glad you’re so confident. And we certainly wish you the best of luck on your test.” Mrs. Pratt stood up from the table. “Now, how about some dessert? There’s still half of that apple pie left over from last night. I’ve got it warming in the oven. And as a special treat, your father picked up some vanilla ice cream to put on top.”

“Not me,” Chris said automatically. “You know about my obsession with getting fat. Especially with my new jea ...”

“Honestly, Susan,” Susan interrupted her in a voice that was much too loud, “you’re beginning to sound just like me. All this talk about getting fat.” This time it was Susan’s turn to kick her twin under the table.

Mr. Pratt leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. “Is it my imagination, or is something strange going on here? Susan? Chris? Are you both acting peculiar, or is all this just some part of teenage girls growing up that I never read about in psychology books?”

“Whatever do you mean, Daddy?” Chris asked innocently, her brown eyes open wide.

“I’m not sure.” He narrowed his eyes and peered at each one of the twins. “It’s nothing concrete, just sort of a ... a
hunch
I have. I’ve been getting mixed signals from you both ever since we sat down to dinner.”

“Yes,” Mrs. Pratt agreed. “I’ve noticed, too. Are you two up to something? Chris, you’re the usual prankster. Are you planning something ... Oh, my goodness!”

Mrs. Pratt threw back her head and laughed.

“For heaven’s sake! You two! ... If I hadn’t seen it for myself, I never would have believed it!”

“Not you, too!” her husband groaned. “What on earth is going on here? Or is it so obvious that everyone can see it but me?” He glanced from Susan to Chris to his wife. All three of them were laughing.

“My dear Mr. Pratt, kindly take a close look at your daughters. One at a time.”

“I thought we’d already been through that. Both of them change their clothes as often as Barbie Dolls, and Christine wears white powder in her hair as if she were doing an imitation of George Washington.”

“Look
closely,”
Mrs. Pratt insisted.

“I still don’t understand . . . Oh, my gosh!”

Mrs. Pratt stood behind him and threw her arms around his neck. “Remember how we used to tell them apart? Chris had that tiny beauty mark on her left cheek.”

“I see what you mean!” Mr. Pratt chuckled. “What is
Susan
doing with
Christine’s
beauty mark on her face?
Now
I understand. Goodness, you two are impossible!”

“I don’t know about you, but I feel kind of foolish. Imagine not being able to tell my own two daughters apart!”

“Well, we
are
identical twins,” Chris reminded her. “Besides, we made a special effort to disguise ourselves as each other. But we forgot all about the beauty mark.” She turned to Susan. “Sooz, we’ll have to remember to take care of that with a little makeup.”

“Take care of that for what?” Mr. Pratt asked. “Are you two mischief makers thinking of trying this charade again? Maybe playing a practical joke on a boyfriend or on one of your teachers at school?”

Chris and Susan exchanged glances. Suddenly they had doubts about their plan. Or at least about telling their parents about it.

But Susan took a deep breath and said, “Chris and I have developed a kind of ...
experiment.”

“Experiment?” her mother repeated.

“It’s called the Banana Split Affair,” Chris interjected. “Like in spy movies. Doesn’t it sound mysterious?”

“Very
mysterious. And slightly dangerous. You two aren’t planning anything illegal, are you?” Mr. Pratt joked, pretending to be horrified. “I’d hate to have the FBI after us. All those unmarked cars and trench coats— why, the very thought gives me the heebie-jeebies!”

“We’re not doing anything illegal,” Susan assured him. “Merely educational.”

“Well, I’m certainly in favor of anything that’s educational,” her father said. “But I would like some more details, if you don’t mind.”

“It’s simple,” Chris explained. “Sooz and I are identical twins, but we’re both completely different people. And since we have the same face and the same birthday and everything else that twins share, it’s only natural that we would wonder what it’d be like to be the other.” With a dramatic wave of her hand, she announced, “So we came up with the obvious solution! Enter, the Banana Split Affair!”

“We’ve decided to change places for a while,” Susan went on. “I am now Christine Pratt, and my twin here is Susan Pratt. So you see, it
is
educational.”

Mrs. Pratt looked doubtful. “Are you sure this is a good idea, girls? I know I’m always telling you both that you’re old enough to make your own decisions and that learning to run your own lives is
important, but ...”

“And just how long is ‘a while’?” the girls’ father wanted to know.

“It’s only for two weeks,” Susan said hesitantly. She was beginning to see that her parents weren’t quite as enthusiastic about the Banana Split Affair as she and Chris were. “Not very long at all.”

“We hoped you’d think it was as inspired an idea as we did,” Chris added. “After all, you’re always telling us how important it is to learn about human nature and understand other people and live by the Golden Rule and all that.”

“This hardly sounds like a way of learning about the Golden Rule.” Mr. Pratt sighed. “I don’t know about this. What do
you
think?” he asked his wife.

Mrs. Pratt thought for a minute. “Well, I can’t say I approve one hundred percent. It
is
kind of a clever idea, though, and we’ve got to give the girls credit for thinking it up and carrying it off so well that it fooled even us.

“On the one hand, I suppose they could get into trouble by switching identities. Especially at school. They’d be taking tests for each other ...”

“But one test wouldn’t make much difference in our final averages,” Chris protested.

“Besides,” Susan added, “we could always tell our teachers what we did after the two weeks were up.”

“True. Then there’s the other side,” their mother went on. “Chris and Susan managed to fool us, so there’s no reason why they couldn’t go ahead and trade identities without our knowing. Once they get to school, we have no inkling of what’s going on.”

“We’d never do it if you forbade us,” Susan said quickly.

Chris gave her a dirty look.

“I know that,” Mrs. Pratt said with a smile. “I know I can count on you girls. But if you want my honest opinion”—she shrugged—-”I don’t see anything wrong with it. Not as long as the girls don’t get carried away. And I do trust them. They’re smart enough and mature enough to be able to handle something like this. I also agree with Susan that it would be educational for them. Not to mention an awful lot of fun.”

The girls grinned at each other, eyes shining.

“What about you, Daddy?” Chris asked. “Do you agree with Mom?”

He looked around the table at the three pairs of eyes that were watching him intently, waiting for his answer He shook his head slowly and said, “Who am I to go against the wishes of the three females in my life? You all know what a pushover I am for a beautiful woman.” He winked at his wife. “I never was very good at saying no.”

“Oh, Daddy!” the twins squealed, rushing over to him and smothering him with hugs and kisses. “Thank you! Thank you!”

Susan turned to her mother and gave her a hug. “We’ll be careful, Mom. We won’t do anything that’ll get us into trouble.”

“I know,” Mrs. Pratt said, returning the squeeze. “As I said before, I trust you both. You’re sensible, levelheaded girls...”

Just then Chris knocked over a half-filled glass of water as she threw her arms around her father’s neck. She jumped back with a gasp.

After a second of total silence, all four Pratts burst out laughing.

“That’s my girls.” Mt Pratt chuckled, setting the glass right. “‘Sensible, levelheaded ...’”

“We’ll do fine!” the twins assured him, “You’ll see!”

Chris and Susan clasped hands in a firm handshake. “Well, we did it! We got Mom and Dad to approve our scheme!” Chris exclaimed gleefully.

“Right!” cried Susan, “The Banana Split Affair is on!”

The next morning Susan and Chris were so excited about
going to school and trying out their new identities that they couldn’t even eat breakfast.

“Please! At least have a glass of milk!” their mother pleaded, following them around with a half-gallon carton. “Or let me make you some toast to eat while you’re-walking to school!”

“There isn’t time,” Chris insisted. “It took us so long to get Sooz’s hair just right that we’ll be late if we don’t leave right now. We’ve got to hurry.”

“This is the first time I’ve ever seen you so concerned about getting to school on time. How about you, Susan?”

“I’m Chris, remember?” teased Susan. “And I have to get going, too.”

“How about some toast, Chris?—wait a minute—I mean
Susan.
I’ll be darned if I’m going to start calling my own two daughters by the wrong names!”

“You’ll get used to it.” Chris gave her a peck on the cheek. “Come on, Chris,” she called to Susan. “Got everything? Your trigonometry book? Your history notes?”

“Oh, my,” Mrs. Pratt clucked, shaking her head. “I don’t think I had any idea what I was saying last night when I agreed to this idea. I don’t know how I’ll ever manage to get through these two weeks!”

“Then think how
we
must feel!” The real Susan grinned. “Talk about confusing! I don’t even know who I really am!” She turned to her sister “I’m ready, Sooz. Here I come.” She trotted after her through the kitchen and out the back door.

“Now, remember,” the real Chris began as the two of them started the short walk to school. “Don’t do
too
well on that history test. We don’t want to be too obvious. And don’t forget that instead of regular gym third period, the class is going to the auditorium to see a hygiene film.”

“I’ve got it down pat,” Susan assured her. “Just so I won’t forget, I’ve got your whole schedule written down. I took some notes last night.”

“That figures! Good old organized Susan!” her twin teased.

“Hey, wait a minute! Let me say something in my own defense. Just listen to this list of names I’m supposed to keep straight.” She read from a piece of loose-leaf paper covered with her neat handwriting.
“Greg
—two dates.
Michael—
Welcome Dance. Possibly Homecoming Dance.
Alan
—flirts a lot in trig but hasn’t called yet.
Bruce
...”

“All right, all right. I take it back. Now, as far as me pretending to be you, the main thing I have to remember is to sweep this Keith West off his feet, right?”

Susan remained silent, but her jaw was clenched. She had pleaded with Chris all night to make sure she didn’t overdo it, and she had no desire to start up again. It was out of her hands.

Besides, she told herself, maybe Chris would be able to do some good where she had failed. As far as she knew, Keith West thought of her as just one more nameless face who sat somewhere behind him in art class and wandered over now and then to make some dumb comment about how much she liked his projects. So maybe Chris’s self-confidence and ease with boys would end up doing her some good in the long run.

As they reached the school yard, the girls exchanged nervous glances.

“Well,” Chris breathed, “this is it. Do I look all right?”

“You look perfect,” Susan assured her “You look just like me.”

“And you look just like me. I feel like I’m looking into a mirror. Well ... good luck,
Chris.”

“Good luck to you,
Sooz.”

“See you at lunch!”

Susan dashed off to her homeroom. She was relieved that the last bell rang just as she arrived, leaving her only enough time to slide into her seat. She pretended to be absorbed in her history notes so that no one would talk to her. Homeroom was the one area that Chris had forgotten to fill her in on.

She nervously read through her copy of Chris’s schedule for the hundredth time. Fifth period was English. That should be easy enough, since it was one of Susan’s best subjects. Gym was next. No problem there. Then came trigonometry, the class she was most worried about. At fourth-period lunch, she would meet Chris and compare notes on how the morning had gone.

“Oh, well,” she sighed as the bell rang and she joined the crowd of students who shuffled out of the classroom, “better to get it over with than sit around worrying. Here goes.” Her heart was beating wildly, since she was somewhere between excited and scared.