Tonight as Chup and I were dinning out (sadly though, not molé) I looked to the table diagonally from us and saw there my doppleganger. She had my hair, eyes and calves. I couldn't help but stare in amazement. Imagine this: she even held her fork the same way. Although, she did not have my husband, because she was enjoying her plate with a man half Chup's size (a boy really) and heaven knows there is only one Chup on this planet.
A couple years ago, my brother the Jolly Porter called Topher in my life put on a play about Sleepy Hollow which told the story of dead ringers. I have been fascinated ever since. Basically, "back in the day" people had no certain way of knowing if someone was hard core dead (as opposed to soft core dead) so they would bury them with strings attached to bells that sat upon the grave top. Therefore, if someone awoke from a serious coma, they could ring the bells and be unearthed. Dead/ringer . . . get it?
Then two years ago my students got on a zombie kick, and we researched many, many stories about real dead people appearing all over in the Caribbean. It happened folks. They should be making movies about zombies instead of pirates. Or pirated zombies. Or I don't care.
So back to my story. After dinner Chup told me that he was just perusing Wikipedia (why do we send kids to school anymore when information is so readily available?) about dopplegangers and happened to be informed that seeing your doppleganger is a SIGN OF DEATH! And then he had the nerve to recount a spooky story about Abraham Lincoln which you can read about (but don't go there yet cause I'm not done telling my story) here.
Still here? Good.
Cause this is where it gets eerie.
After I saw my (evil?) twin, we went to Page's house (my sister with 34 children) and were challenged to a game of soccer in the backyard. At one point Chup (on the opposite team) and I collided wherewith I (as imaginable) could not hold up to the forces of one who is so bountiful in bulk and fell to the earth with such thrust, I forgot this terrestrial realm for a moment or two. In otherwords, I flirted with death.
(To save yourself any confusion do not ask Chup about his account of the story because he will accuse me of embellishment. Husbands! Sometimes!)
I think the only thing that saved me was an image that came into my mind as I (nearly) walked towards the light. My doppleganger, the girl with the fork, the omen of death?
She didn't have freckles.
And you'll be happy to know: I went on to score a goal.