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Like Night and Day

Ella and Elaine lived in a second floor, two-bedroom apartment over on Fremont Street for as long as most people in the neighborhood could remember. No one knew their age or whether either had ever been married. From time to time, neighbors saw Elaine bring a man to their apartment, and Ella leave shortly after. Watchers inevitably professed shock, but secretly were not surprised. Elaine had a sparkling personality and was thought to be at least ten years younger than Ella. In addition, her wavy blond hair, bright red lips and light touch of rouge were undoubtedly added attractions. Why wouldn’t a man follow Elaine into the hall and up the stairs to ‘visit’ for awhile?

During the Depression in the 1930s, Ella and Elaine were frequently seen by neighbors in the National Tea over on Halsted, carefully examining the prices on groceries so they could find the least expensive. As it happened, like most people who experienced the depression, the two women never outgrew their frugality. In fact, even when WWII was over and rationing disappeared, they continued to scour the same chain grocery store for the lowest prices.

Although Ella and Elaine’s apartment was small, it was comfortable. In addition, there was a porch in back overlooking a prim yard and a new two-car brick garage. Embellishing the view and shielding the rear of the building from the glare of the morning sun was an old cottonwood. The gentle rustle of its leaves was rhythmically pleasing. The two women brought kitchen chairs out on the porch on summer evenings and read. Those across the alley who looked carefully saw the cushion on Ella’s chair and assumed she needed it because she was considerably older than Elaine.

Unlike Elaine, Ella rarely smiled. This habit of displaying a somber expression was accentuated by her mousy brown hair and lack of make-up. Because of these characteristics, Ella was considered uniformly plain. If Ella and Elaine met a neighbor while walking down the street, Elaine automatically smiled, expressed a warm greeting and chatted away like a familiar friend. Expected to stop also, Ella did, but her silence made it clear she was not eager to engage in conversation. With a frozen smile suggesting displeasure, she stood silently by until Elaine was ready to continue walking.

Elaine and Ella, however, were not always together. In addition to the mise en scène enacted several times a week at the entrance to their apartment building, Elaine frequently occupied a bar stool in Slim’s Tavern over on Armitage. With legs crossed and a Manhattan in her hand, she was usually laughing and chatting away with an assertive male who sat beside her and paid for her drinks. Although women alone in taverns were not a common sight, Elaine had only to enter Slim’s and some unattached male instantly adopted the role of her companion. Sometimes there was even a tussle between several for the privilege.

Elaine enjoyed every minute of these calculated forays which often led to an invitation for her latest companion to escort her home. Privately, she reveled in the gossip she was certain her behavior generated.

Ella’s feelings about all this were a mystery. She did, however, go out alone during the day even at times when Elaine wasn’t “entertaining.” Usually she went to the Biograph or Crest movie theatres over on Lincoln Avenue. She also enjoyed leisurely passing the time in Woolworth’s, occasionally stopping at the lunch counter for a chocolate sundae. No one, however, met her or stopped to speak to her. The few who saw her walking alone decided she was a person who had purposely allowed life to pass her by without running any risks, or accepting a chance involvement with another person beside Elaine. Without hesitation, they concluded Ella’s impenetrable reserve was intentionally self-imposed – perhaps from fear of rejection because she was so obviously unattractive, perhaps simply because of age. Everyone was certain Ella was at least ten years older than Elaine.

But natural curiosity prodded the people of Sheffield to seek answers. They wanted to know why, for example, Ella and Elaine lived alone together? What was their real relationship? Did it extend beyond mere friendship? How did they manage when neither of them worked? Had either of them ever been in love, engaged, jilted, married, divorced? Maybe their original coming together and remaining bonded was due to the elemental attraction of opposites.

Rumors of every kind circulated from time to time, but most were no more than exercises in fantasy. And eventually all died a slow natural death. Rumors only persist when they contain plausible elements of truth. But no one knew actual truths. No one, that is, until the day Elaine’s wake was held at the Nick Strich Funeral Home next door to Slim’s Tavern.

It was a modest, one-morning affair with an open coffin, the requisite flowers and enough chairs to seat 20 potential mourners. As it happened, no relatives came and very few neighbors. Near the end of the wake, the only other person present, in addition to Ella, was Slim. He had stopped by, before opening his tavern, to extend his condolences. He sat down beside Ella and slowly reached for and held her hand.

“I don’t know if we’ve met,” Slim said, “but I’m Slim from the tavern next door. I knew Elaine slightly.”

“Thank you for coming,” Ella replied. “Elaine told me about you, and your kindness.”

They sat silently for awhile.

“I’m so sorry she’s gone,” Slim said. “She’ll be missed.”

“Yes, I’m sure she will”

“This certainly is the way she would’ve wanted to go: quick and easy,” Slim continued, gently squeezing Ella’s hand.

“Yes,” she replied softly. “No suffering. No pain. She never could tolerate pain and suffering of any kind.”

“She sure was alive,” Slim went on. “I don’t think I ever knew anyone more alive than Elaine.”

“Yes, she was certainly that.” Ella said and paused, “but sometimes someone’s ‘aliveness’ isn’t easy for others to live with.” Ella paused. “But she was happy alright. She worked hard at being happy until she never seemed to have a worry in the world.” Ella turned and looked at Slim. “I was the one who worried. I always worried: how we were going to pay our rent; how we were going to buy food and clothes; how we were going to pay hospital bills when we got older; and for a funeral when one of us died.”

Slim released Ella’s Hand.

“Most people thought I was older than Elaine,” Ella said after awhile.

Slim said nothing. He knew it was true.

“Did you know Elaine was my sister?”

“No, I didn’t,” Slim replied somewhat surprised.

“No one would’ve ever guessed it, but actually, we were twins,” Ella said, and, for the first time in years, started to cry uncontrollably.