Confusion.
Verwech recalls all different kinds of confusion he had to face raising his only daughter Ashley. Like that one time a piece of jigsaw puzzle had gone missing. Little Ash had swallowed it, as it turned out. Or that time when Ash was found on the top of the bookshelf—Pom had miraculously caught her mid-air when she was falling. How a three-year-old baby got up there? That remains as a mystery. Recalling these memories, Verwech attempts to reassure himself: I mean, he mutters, there were some delightful instances, too. Indeed, he remembers how baffled he was when Pom gave birth to his beautiful daughter. The moment accompanied a flood of sudden, heavy, and confusing feelings of becoming a father but also was full of happiness. What about all those times his 6-year-old came up with adorable ways to somehow trick her dad? Pretending to be asleep under a blanket, hiding in a closet, or performing those magic tricks she had learned from her uncle Karl (though, most of the times, Verwech could still clearly see the ‘vanished’ coin in her other little palm)…These trickeries of the little one would make his day with delightful confusion after coming back home from work, exhausted from wrestling with wonders of logical processes as a mathematics professor. Maybe this is one of those magic tricks—Verwech desperately hopes so—perhaps one of them will start deflating real soon like a well-made balloon…Who knows? While he was sure he would’ve been impressed by his daughter’s magical talent if that had been the case, he quickly lets go of the hope: neither one of Ashleys isn’t going to deflate anytime soon—they both are clearly made of flesh and bones, not of a piece of rubber filled with air.
Verwech and Pom have been trying for a second child for years. With Verwech being a beginning professor involved in multiple, years-long research projects, and Pom working as an editor at Times Magazine with her ambition to start some kind of gossip magazine herself, it was evident that the two of them will have less and less time for Ashley. Perhaps having another child, before his career gets too hectic, would help his little Ash to be less lonely. That was four years ago. Verwech couldn’t help but notice how comedic this situation is. Who would have thought? His wish for a second child isn’t granted, but now he has two first child-s right in front of his eyes.
Verwech recollects his memory in an attempt to make sense of what just happened. As usual, he had come back home from work. Little Ash greeted him by hiding behind the door—Surprise! Ash had succeeded to trick her dad—after which she said she was hungry. Verwech heated up leftover lunch from work for her. A little dry, but Ash wouldn’t say no to an Italian meatloaf, He had thought to himself. The meatloaf was going to be dinner for him only, Where’s Pom, anyways? But it turns out to be enough serving for the two of them. Probably upstairs again, dealing with her magazine stuff. After dinner, he worked on some logistics for his research in his home office. With occasional murmurings from the living room, he was sure Ash was in the living room playing with her toys. When she knocked on his door and started pouting about her favorite but missing tulip hairpin, Verwech realized her daughter was feeling drowsy (My gosh, Pom’s still not downstairs?), assuring her that her dad will find it for her when she’s off to dreamland. He gave his daughter a daisy hairpin to put on and carried her to her room upstairs (The door to Pom’s room is closed. What is she thinking, leaving her child alone for so long?) and tucked her in. Daddy, Ash had asked, could you look and make sure there’s no monster under the bed? While telling her there’s nothing under the bed, he still ducked down to give his daughter extra relief. That way, Ash would fall asleep in peace, and that means Verwech will finally get some time off from parenting. His hope for some alone-time crumbled when he locked his eyes with what was under the bed—another Ashley. Daddy, she whispered, who did you just put on my bed?
Verwech maintained his awkward, kneeling position for what it felt like a few minutes. He had never realized that how much human brain and old computers were alike: they both freeze when there’s too much to process. His brain was in effort to make sense of what he just saw—in vain. When Verwech finally came to senses, he realized that Ashley on the bed was also looking down, wondering why her dad went so quiet all the sudden. He could tell that the two Ashleys made eye contact. I’m glad how unrealistic those doppelgänger movies are, Verwech thinks to himself. In the movie that he had seen a long time ago, meeting your double meant eradication of your existence. Though in shock of meeting an unexpected guest in her—their—room, both Ashleys still are very much in existence. Verwech debates whether that’s a sign of relief or disappointment.
Surprisingly, the presence of the other self didn’t cause much angst for the two Ashleys. With Verwech’s desperate effort to keeping calm and suppressing panic, letting them play with her—their—favorite board game Checkers seemed to help them to see each other as a friend with the same name (Your name is Ashley, too? Both excitedly exclaimed). Good thing Ash wasn’t one of those kids obsessed with mirrors, Verwech sighs.
Now that the Ashleys are distracted by the board game, Verwech endeavors to make sense of what happened. He thinks of other doppelgänger movies and novels (Nope, those are clearly just fictions with absurd, contradictory logics) and quantum physics (I’m no expert in the field). It doesn’t take long for him to give up on finding a logical explanation—he has studied mathematics for long enough to stay away from the false belief that he can understand every phenomenon. Even some true statements are unprovable, he tells himself, let alone this doppelgänger mystery. Verwech briefly wonders if, given enough time and resources, one can find a feasible explanation (No, no, let’s focus on what’s important here). He also considers the possibility that he has gone crazy (The most saddening but feasible theory, he admits). Well, there’s an easy way to prove it—Pom. If his wife, who could be emotionally unstable at times but certainly not hallucinatory, doesn’t see the two Ashleys, this mystery could be resolved simply by paying regular visits to a mental hospital. With that thought, Verwech gets out of Ash’s room. Hoping that the two Ashes have no intention to harm each other—as it seems to be, for now—he looks for his wife, who should be working in her room on the same floor…must be.
When Verwech opened the door, his wife wasn’t there—nor was she anywhere in the house. Now that panic he has been desperately suppressing begins to crawl out. Where could she be? As Verwech has gotten busier with his research projects, Pom has been working at home to take care of Ash. She would occasionally attend in-person meetings, but she would never leave Ash alone. But it seems like she did exactly that tonight—when there is not one but two Ashleys to deal with.
Verwech was out of options. Even if I am going crazy, he tells himself, what’s more important is to find the real Ashley and get the hell out of here. He comes back to Ashley’s room—where the two Ashleys are now building a tower with the Checker pieces—and starts contemplating. Which one could be real?
Verwech starts by carefully examining the two Ashleys. Ashley, who was on the bed, surely doesn’t seem so drowsy anymore, thanks to her new friend: herself from under the bed. Okay, this shouldn’t be too different from mathematical paradoxes. Verwech’s way to make this incomprehensible situation into a somewhat familiar setting is to utilize his profession. He has often done this when he faced difficulties in life. I am given two cases that could be true: Ash A (who was on the bed), and Ash B (who was under the bed). Now, one at a time, I’ll assume each Ash is real and see if I can find a contradiction in one case. Just find it from one of the cases, and, boom, indirect proof right there: the other one is the real Ashley.
Verwech looks at Ash A. She is the one who knocked on my door, he recalls. Ash never goes to sleep alone—that means Ash A was the one who was playing in the living room, and she’s the one who greeted me when I came home. It does seem likely that Ash A is the real Ash… No, wait, Ash A acting like real Ash is a sufficient cause for sure, but it doesn’t necessarily mean she is the real Ash. Ugh, so no contradiction yet—how about the other girl…
Verwech realizes how little information he has about Ash B other than the fact that she seemingly appeared out of nowhere. But this does not mean she can’t be the real Ash. Verwech mutters, as if to remind himself. Let’s assume that Ash B is the real Ash. She did ask me “whom I put on the bed”. That must mean, if Ash B is real, she was watching me enter the room and put down Ash A on her bed! That’s definitely what real Ash would do, knowing how much his daughter loves to trick her dad, Verwech is convinced by this likely scenario. After dinner, Ash B could have gone upstairs after spending some time in the living room, heard her dad coming up to tuck her in, and hid under the bed to surprise him. That’s typical Ash. Verwech smiles bitterly. But there’s no evidence to prove that’s what happened.
Now, Verwech is exhausted. There’s no contradiction. He sighs. Indeed, both seem to share the exactly the same features—same height, same clothing, same face, same hair…hold on. Verwech pauses. He notices one difference between them—Ash B is wearing a tulip hairpin, and Ash A is wearing a daisy: the daisy hairpin that Verwech had given her before coming upstairs.
Verwech recalls driving Ashley to kindergarten this morning, how she was proudly showing off her favorite, one and only, tulip hairpin. Distracted by her best friend Faith waiting outside of the car, Ash must’ve dropped it when she was getting off—Verwech had found it in her seat after she left. He remembers complaining about her daughter’s inattentiveness. Maybe I’ll teach her a lesson to keep her belongings safe, he had muttered—his reason for keeping the hairpin in the glovebox.
Contradiction right there, logic triumphs! Verwech cheers in silence and declares in confidence—real Ash cannot be wearing the tulip hairpin. It’s now clear which Ash is real. Q.E.D!
That’s when Verwech hears the front door opening. Pom’s voice, he recognizes. He immediately grabs Ash A, holds her (Daddy, you’re hurting me!), and sprints toward downstairs. I’ll have to grab Pom and go somewhere outside. In a split second, Verwech makes the plan to save his family. Whatever that thing is, my family cannot stay here. We’ll call the police—they will take care of this. He passes his wife’s room, door still open. Meanwhile, we’ll find a hotel to stay a while. Maybe we’ll find a fancy one and make it a vacation—this is a good excuse to leave work for a bit. Verwech misses the first step of the stairs and nearly trips. We will sleep together, eat together, play hide-and-seek, board games maybe, and practice new magic tricks! Ash will love it. Verwech suddenly feels liberated. And when this nightmare is over, we will come back home. Maybe we will finally go watch late-night movies that I promised a while back to make a family tradition. Downstairs; Verwech sees his wife coming in. Some good romantic comedies are out in theater, I heard. Pom used to love rom coms. Everything will be back to normal—everything—
.
.
.
Pom sees her husband rushing downstairs, grabbing her wrist, and forcing her outside. “Wait, what’s going on?” Pom pushes Verwech away. She could feel her wrist bruising. Keep pushing her outward, Pom’s husband murmurs something about there being two Ashleys and his cognition and logic and reasoning paving the way to save the family. Perplexed, Pom stares at the overly excited man. Suddenly, Verwech pauses. His eyes fixed at something not too far down the hallway—Ashley. Ashley is holding a helium filled balloon with Happy Birthday! in colorful fonts in one hand and a half-opened gift box in another. She’s struggling to open her gift. Verwech looks down to notice a daisy hairpin that he’s been squeezing so hard that his hand started to bleed.
“I… I thought Ash was home.” He says, almost inaudible.
“My gosh, Verwech, how many times have I told you that we were having Ash’s birthday party today? You said you were too busy to come.”
Verwech couldn’t understand what just happened—
Then, it clicked: Modus Tollens, of course:
Pom would never leave Ash alone; it implies that, if Pom is not here, Ash is also not here.
“Speaking of Ash, let me tell you something, Verwech,” Pom continues, angrily.
“It’s one thing to miss out on your daughter’s birthday party. But to yell at her for talking about her favorite hairpin? In the morning of her birthday?”
Indeed, Verwech had yelled at Ash on the way to her kindergarten for not knowing when to stop rambling.
“And if you think your logic and intelligence can save our marriage, you are wrong. Hell, it’s clear that your love for logic is so much greater than your love and respect for your wife, your daughter, and your family. It is clear that there’s no us for you, Verwech. You never respected my career—it’s NOT a gossip magazine, by the way—you never cooked a meal for Ash or me, never kept a promise, and your definition of taking care of Ash has always been just giving her toys and working on your own stuff. Ashley almost died many times because you weren’t watching! You only care about you and your work.”
That was true.
“You know I was the one to give up on my dreams after Ash” Verwech could tell Pom is holding back tears. “And you were so obsessed with the idea of having the second child—and blamed me for not trying hard enough?”
Pom’s voice is quiet but firm, trembling with rage. Verwech is glad that Ash is distracted by her gift box. Pom realizes her daughter coming nearby and calms down. Verwech clears his throat.
“I don’t know what to say.”
Long and awkward silence devours the atmosphere. Verwech had never admitted his fault like this.
“Here, I thought Ash might like it. I bought it this morning…I guess we must wash it now.”
Verwech hands over the daisy hairpin—now blood all over it—to Pom. Pom sighs.
“Verwech, you do realize this won’t change anything.”
The husband nods.
“And that there isn’t going to be ‘us’ anymore after this week? No logic or reasoning will change that.” Pom affirms.
“I know.”
“Alright, then. Let’s go in.” Pom walks inside.
Ashley finally succeeds to open her gift box. She takes out a bunny doll with button eyes. Ashley looks up to her dad, as if she has never seen anything more beautiful throughout her six years of life. She debates whether she should explain to her dad how squishy the bunny’s ears are.
“That is one adorable bunny!” A father smiles at his daughter.
The real Ash smiles back; she starts rambling on how the bunny’s eyes remind her of her best friend Faith’s teddy bear. As her dad listens, her mom comes out to hand her the new daisy hairpin. I will have a tulip AND a daisy on my hair now, Ash thinks to herself. She has a feeling that she will now have not one but two favorite hairpins—she has no doubt about it. ∎