Christopher's Song (Indefinite Hiatus)

Chapter 9

It was difficult for the twins to keep themselves from bolting straight up to their rooms, but they were gracious hosts, so they saw their friends outside. Another small scuffle ensued when Mike and Jesse called shotgun at the same time, but eventually all three boys piled into Greg's old, brown station wagon. Greg insisted it was "vintage," but everyone else pretty much stuck with "lemon." The twins waved to their friends as they pulled out of the driveway and then turned and darted into the house as soon as the guys drove off.

Their mad dash was interrupted by their mother. "Hey, Daniel, are you about ready to go?"

"Where?" he asked. And then he remembered. It was his week. Every other Tuesday, the twins alternated going to a movie, or for dinner or somewhere else with their mother. The tradition had started when they'd turned thirteen and had each taken her out on a "mock date," so they could get a feel for what it would be like to take a real girl on a date one day. From then on, they'd alternated weeks, as a way to keep connected with their mother. It gave her a chance to keep up with the happenings in her sons' lives and them the opportunity for a free movie or game of mini-golf or bowling. Tuesdays were pretty slow in their social circles, so it didn't interfere with anything else. They sometimes pretended to their friends that it was a chore, but they really didn't mind. It was sort of nice having what a psychologist would call "quality time" with their Mom. It was the one of the few things that the twins didn't have to share.

As Jennifer prepared to give Daniel her best hurt look, he continued, "I'm sorry, Mom. I totally forgot." As much as he wanted to go uncover the secrets the book held, he couldn't disappoint his mother. They'd been doing this every other week for five years, after all. "Where are we going, tonight?"

"Well, there was that stupid-looking superhero movie you wanted to see," she replied blandly.

"Yeah," and Daniel's tone was equally bland, "and there's that sappy chick flick you wanted to see, too."

"Oh, wonderful!" Jennifer clapped her hands girlishly, clearly mocking her son. "I'm so glad you remembered! I'd love to see that!" Her eyes were round and innocent.

Daniel groaned, giving in gracelessly.

See what you can figure out with the book, he sent to his brother, longing evident in his tone. He reached into his pocket, and tossed his brother the key.

Ethan caught it. Don't worry, I'll keep you updated if anything good happens, he returned, trying to keep his own anticipation in check, and failing. I might even wait to open it until you get home!

Even before his brother and mother left for their movie, Ethan headed upstairs to try the keys in the lock on his father's book. He put a damper on his excitement, so he wouldn't broadcast too loudly to his brother; gloating was fun, but Ethan wasn't cruel. As he entered Daniel's room, he palmed the key from his pocket and reached under the pillow to retrieve the book, the book that wasn't under the pillow or on the bed at all. After a moment of panic, he remembered that he and Daniel had been interrupted in their search for the missing key, and he found the volume sitting on Daniel's shelf next to the bears.

Ethan left his brother's room, book and keys in hand, and walked the few steps down the hall to his own. He closed the door, sat down on his bed, and arrayed his treasures in front of him. This wasn't how it was supposed to be. Daniel was supposed to be here with him, and they should be opening this book together.

Ethan glanced around his room. Reminders of his brother were everywhere, even in his own bedroom. The walls were lined with posters of their favorite punk band, Good Riddance, and pictures of their own band at a few of the gigs they'd played around the city. His desk was the same as his brother's, and even his laptop matched the one in Daniel's room. His bed was the other half of the bunk bed the boys had shared as children, now separated so the boys could have their own spaces. Daniel should be here. But he wasn't.