Jameson's Spiral

Chapter 1

As much as I loved my studies at John Marshall Law School, home was always better.

I sat in the car next to my twin, Mason, as he drove is towards our cozy home on Mount Prospect, Illinois for spring break. As was typical, he was tapping the steering wheel to the beat of the Metallica that was blasting through the speaker system. I had learned Lon ago to endure the music, even if it wasn't quite to my liking.

My brother looked (duh) much like I did. The only noticeable differences were the hair (both of ours was coal black, but his was short, almost shaved off while mine was long on the top and never stayed in place) his close-shaven beard, and him being marginally thinner and more well built than me. He had this habit of running for several miles at the crack of dawn even though he absolutely hated it. He also claimed that he hated eating anything with more than ten grams of sugar, but I knew this to be a lie. He could never stop himself when offered raspberry Danishes with creamy frosting.

I didn't pay too much attention to what I ate. Life is too short to count calories. My high metabolism did help, though.

Mason reached into the bag propped between his legs and pulled out a strip of jerky, then promptly began to chew on it.

I carefully leaned over from the drivers seat to steal a piece, but he somehow saw me and slapped my hand away.

"Come on!" I complained, rubbing my stinging hand.

He cracked a smile. "Zak, you told me that you wanted to get on better shape for Claire. I'm just helping."

I snorted. "Okay, first off. I never said that. And two, it's jerky. Not donuts."

Mason laughed a little. He had always had a weird laugh. It was kind of quiet when he could help it, and almost sounded like an evil cackle.

"Eat your own snacks."

"I already did," I grumbled. I had armed myself with goldfish crackers and Redvines, but those went quickly.

"Doesn't matter," Mason observed, "we are almost home anyways."

I looked out the window in time to see the sign that announced our entrance into Mount Prospect, and smiled.

The cozy town was not very large. After passing through the middle of town, where people walked the streets and window shopped, we drove into the green outskirts and were in our tiny neighborhood within fifteen minutes.

We pulled into the driveway of our small house several minutes later. Mason turned off the car, smiling.

"Home again, home again..."

Our home was small and looked like something straight out of a nursery rhyme. Light blue paint was accented by delicate white trim and shutters. Short, trimmed hedges ran under the windows. The walkway was lined with beautiful pink, white, and red flowers.

In the middle of the small fenced-in yard, a blue ball and several plastic dinosaurs sat abandoned. Ben, his wife Mae, and their four year old son Will had arrived the day before and were obviously settling in quickly.

As Mason and I got out of the car, the front door opened. Our mother stood in the doorway, smiling brightly.

"Welcome home!" She called to us as we walked up the steps. Mason leaned down and hugged her first.

"Hey, mom." He kissed her cheek, then straightened and headed inside. I heard him shout a welcome to Ben.

I hugged my mother as Mason had.

My mother was a wonderful woman. Short and petite, she was towered over by all her children. Her hair was dark like ours, but was streaked with grey.