Chapter 1 - Steve

I spent all of last night awake, as I have been lately. I guess I’m bothered by everything that has happened around me lately. I know that it all will catch up to me later on within the next few days, and I’ll be virtually worthless to those around me.

My wife thinks I am obsessed, and she’s probably right. Yet I found all of this to be peculiar. My twin, Stan, and I have found ourselves caught up in a mystery that we both regret. Some days it doesn’t even feel worthwhile to wake up. I’ve heard that the cure for waking up on the wrong side of the bed is to not get up at all.

“You have an alarming way of setting people on edge, you filthy scumbucket! I cannot help thinking how things might be better off without you around, but I will live with it. I really have no choice now, do I?

“Your evil smile makes me want to vomit. I am so disgusted that I ever believed you in the first place. You mock me and I painfully grin, because you really don’t know what’s coming, do you? You just watch your back, pal, because you, too, may find a knife in it. You’ll never know what hit you. I win.”

I should have cut the bastard off long before he’d gotten more drunk. I felt intrigued by his company, though, and he seemed to have something important to say. I have to say that I left work that morning feeling more than a little bit threatened. How did this fella know so much about me, my twin brother, and our family?

Something just didn’t feel right, and I knew I needed to find Stan to let him know something weird was going on.

I feel like a zombie. Not only did I stay up late last night, but I’m up late again tonight. I look forward to the bed. My body will be pressing the sheets hard. It will be so good to close my eyes.

Yet I also need to get up early for an early morning meeting. That reminds me… I need to print some things out to get ready. The big thing is those flyers. Do I have a clean shirt to wear? A quick search in the closet finds one of my brother’s shirts. That’ll do.

If’s rather strange that I’m only thinking of these things now, instead of earlier.

Slowly, cautiously, she slithers from one end of the couch to the other. It is imperative that she be certain. Then she listened, straining for the slightest noise. You cannot be too careful, she thought. She checked her watch and the clock radio at the end table. It was almost time.

Something stirred. She snapped her head around. Just the wind blowing a tree branch against the window. After waiting awhile longer, she looked around, cautiously, trying to detect any sounds. None. Good, she thought, grinning to herself. The solitude made her task so much easier.

She placed her finger to her lip and looked down to the coffee table. Another glance to the left and right, check of the alarm clock. Now! Quickly she absconded with the car keys and raced out the door, unnoticed.

I awoke all of a sudden from my dream and tossed the newspaper aside. I probably should make this quick so that my bladder will not explode. That’s it… suck it in. Good. For some reason my muscles feel so tight.

“Oh, you laugh. Sure, go ahead and laugh now. But you may regret your frivolity sooner than you think. Not all humor is good, you know.” I wished that guy made more sense.

I am a slave here to my job at the bar, and I can’t seem to get enough. It’s not so much that I enjoy getting people drunk, although it is enjoyable to see others lose their inhibitions.

Yet the arduous schedule feels almost like donating blood, to me, even just a little bit. I’ve heard it said that a dead-end job can suck the life out of you, one day at a time.

Suddenly, he felt the insatiable desire to run, to flee from the current situation. The impulse was strong indeed. He furtively glanced around him, to see if anyone was watching – he didn’t want to make any moves that would appear too sudden. Good. No one was around.

Scanning the coffee table, he saw the Sunday paper and snatched it. Tucking it under his arm, he rose and made a mad dash to the bathroom. Closing the door as fast as he could, he then locked it and settled down for some “peace and quiet.” At least that’s what he thought.

I must have dozed off again because I didn’t make it that far to the bathroom. The phone just rang.

“Um, hello.” I drowsily spoke.

“Steve, it’s me, Stan,” my brother said on the other end. “Listen, we need to meet because I found out something about that guy who was at the bar last week.”

“Where are you?” I asked.

“I’m at the downtown public library. Can you meet me at the Cup O’Joe’s across the street from here in fifteen minutes?”

“How about a half an hour. I just woke up, and I need to shower.”

“Alright,” Stan said, “I’ll see you then.”

As I hung up the phone, I made my way toward the bathroom, wondering what he’d found. Looking in the mirror, I was unhappy as usual with the face staring back at me. Whatever happened to that young man who had so much going for him so many years ago?

I tugged at the mirror, opening the medicine cabinet. I took a couple pills for my headache, got dressed, and left.

All the parking spaces near Cup O’Joe’s were full, so I parked a couple blocks away. I felt lucky to have found one of the remaining free spaces.

Stan was sitting in a corner booth, sipping an espresso, paging through a pile of papers. I ordered a café mocha and sat down across from him.

“So, what’s up, bro?” I asked. “Why’d you want to drag me down here so urgently?”

“Just a minute,” he said, deep in thought. I decided to let him have this moment to himself while I looked around. The baristas weren’t much different from bartenders. They mix drinks with mainly a coffee base; we bartenders use different alcohols. Almost the same, but with many more differences.

A small stereo played some new age jazz. The café was pretty popular around here because it was centrally located to the rest of downtown. In fact, downtown was a great place to be.

I sipped some more of my mocha and started to feel restless. I glanced at Stan’s piles for a clue as to what he had to say. A few news clippings, a social security death index file, a plastic pouch of receipts. I thought I was obsessive, but here my brother appeared to be even more.

Then he put his papers down, took another sip of his espresso, and smiled at me.

“What?” I asked.

“You know how you always thought we should get out of this place? I’ve often thought the same thing. I mean, there’s not a lot going on around this town. You and I have the gig at the bar, which is okay, but we’ve wanted something else. You know what I’m talking about?”

“Sure. This place is like a hell-hole. I’d love to get away from here just to find some excitement elsewhere. Besides, a lot of the stuff going on around here is just so old-fashioned. They ought to just take a big wrecking ball to this city and start over.” I was beginning to feel a bit cranky.

“You know that guy who was at the bar last week? The one who wouldn’t shut up?”

“Stan, we get a lot of guys like that. Be more specific.”

“That guy who started threatening us. He was drinking the Vodka Martinis with three olives.”

“Yeah. What about him?” I asked.

“After he paid his tab, I saw a badge on his belt as he walked out. He’s a cop. I don’t think he realized how much he told us about his work.”

“Yeah, he didn’t want to shut up.”

”Well, I saw him asleep in his car when I left work. He must have been sleeping himself sober. I wasn’t sure what exactly was going on, so I went over to check on him.”

“Okay.”

“It turned out he’d passed out cold and was having seizures! I don’t know how long he’d been lying there unconscious, so I called 911.”

“Really.”

“The ambulance arrived and I went with him to the hospital. It turns out he had a case of alcohol poisoning. If I hadn’t have gotten to him earlier, he might have died.”

“Wow.”

“It gets even better, bro. This guy turns out to be a cop, like I said, but he’s not that much different from us.”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“He was born and grew up here, just like us.”

“Yeah, so what?”

“Well, he was born on May 15th, the same year we were born. And in the same hospital!”

“Hmm.” I thought it was interesting that this guy was the same age as my brother and I. But born in the same hospital? “How do you know that?” I asked Stan.

“He let me see his medical records. This guy even carries a copy of his birth certificate on him.”

“Okay, so what’s your point?”

“The point, is, little bro, he says that someone is looking for people born on the same date at the same hospital, to be subjects of some research. And, they’re going to pay us. I’ve already made an appointment to meet these people for later tomorrow.”

Little brother? He always liked to remind me that he was the first born, even if it was only by a few minutes. I had to admit that I was intrigued by these people who were doing research.

Stan and I chatted awhile longer. I bought us each a refill, and, after about an hour, we left.