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The vase was shattered. It was lying in pieces on the carpet in the living room and Simone was due back at any moment. They hadn’t meant to break the small container that once had zigzagging flowers painted all over it. It just happened to get in the way of one of their swords. It wasn’t a very pretty vase, anyhow.
“Quick, give me your sword,” Tom demanded, holding his hand out. Bill handed over the heavy plastic toy and watched as his brother took off at a run down the hall. Tom threw both swords into their closet and slammed the door. What swords? He ran back to the front room where his twin was trying to pick up the glass pieces without cutting himself.
Kneeling next to Bill on the ground, he picked up the bigger pieces of the glass and held them gingerly in his palm. If they got blood all over the carpet they’d be in a bigger world of hurts than they already were. “Tomi, mom is going to kill us.”
“We’ll clean it up before she gets here. Go get the vacuum so we can get the little pieces. I’ll go get something to put the big pieces in.” Tom stood up with hands full of glass and Bill didn’t move. “Hurry!” The urgency in his voice snapped Bill out of his trance and he was off, tearing down the hall to where the vacuum was stored.
Taking his pieces to the kitchen, Tom deposited them in the trash and pulled the bag from its bin. If he took the trash out early, his mother would be none the wiser to their accident. Taking another bag from the box they kept above the trash bin’s storage area, he put a fresh bag in the container. He’d simply tell his mother the trash was full and needed taking out even though the bag was only a third of the way full.
The twins rushed around, carefully tossing bigger pieces of glass in to the bag followed by frantic vacuuming. A few minutes later the carpet looked brand new and the boys hoped they’d gotten all of the pieces out of it. Bill put the vacuum back and Tom took the trash outside. They met back in the front room and turned on the television. What vase?
Simone walked in the door only moments after they’d gotten comfortable in the fluffy couch. She greeted her boys and took some groceries to the kitchen. After setting the bags on the counter, their mother came back to the hall to remove her coat and hat, which took their respective homes on the hook to the right of the front door. All the while, the boys were sweating in their seats, waiting for their mother to notice the missing vase.
“Boys....”
“What?” The twins looked at each other quickly. She knew. Oh God, she knew. They were in for it now.
“Where’s my vase?” Eyeing the back of their heads, hands on hips, Simone watched identical shrugs from identical boys with mis-matching hair. “Mhm. Well, it has an hour to appear or you’re both going to shovel the drive.”
The twins slumped on the couch. Shoveling snow was never fun and there was no way out of this one. Unless they were able to get all of the pieces back, glue them together, and put the vase back on its stand within one hour’s time, they were going to have to shovel their snow-laden drive.
“Why do we have to shovel the drive if we don’t put a car in the garage?” Bill voiced in complaint.
“Would you rather I grounded you for a week?” Simone asked walking back in to the kitchen. “You boys might want to get on it, it’s getting colder already.”
The twins huffed but obeyed their mother and made their way to the door. Shoving socked feet into heavy snow boots, the boys moped. Neither one enjoyed manual labor. Tom shrugged in to his thick hoody with thermal padding on the inside and Bill jerked on his own wool coat. Hats were donned and scarves were wrapped around necks.
“This isn’t fair,” Bill whined walking out the front door behind his brother.
“We broke her vase, Bill. What’s not fair about this?” They entered the garage through the side door and Tom passed a shovel to his brother, before picking one up for himself. He pressed the button to raise the garage door and sighed. This was going to take a while. The entire drive was covered with a good foot of snow.
“I don’t want to shovel the stupid drive!” Bill stomped out of the garage and stabbed his shovel down into the snow, jolting when the end of the shovel met concrete. He pushed the big red shovel along the drive like a plow, rolling snow across the area and piling it at the edge of the drive where it met snow-covered grass. He kicked at the pile he was making, sending a flurry of white into the air.
Tom shook his head and started using his own shovel to clear a path. The yellow end of his shovel met the pavement and he pushed along his side of the drive, carrying the snow into the street. He could hear the sounds of Bill still throwing a fit at having to clear the drive as punishment. His brother was stomping for every step and mumbling to himself and Tom couldn’t stop from smiling. Bill was such a drama queen.
“What are you laughing at?” Bill stopped scooting his shovel along the ground and whirled to face his brother’s back.
“Nothing,” he replied, keeping his shovel steady as he trekked his path to the road from the top of the drive. Biting his lip, Bill watched his twin work. How dare he laugh. This was not fun. Looking down at the snow-filled drive, an idea hit him like a sledgehammer. He grinned wickedly and lifted his shovel, snow piled atop the end, and walked carefully to Tom’s side. “Oops!”
Snow fell on and around Tom and he froze. Some had landed inside the collar of his hoody and it was cold. Bill was going to pay for that. Turning around, Bill was almost falling down with mirth. “Bill, you know that was a mistake, right?”
Bill’s eyes widened and he had only enough time to drop the handle of his shovel and hold his arms out in front of him, body half-turned sideways, eyes squeezed tight, left leg lifted in an attempt to protect himself, before snow was thrown in his face. He screamed. Oh God, it was so cold. Wiping his face, Bill glared through the melting snow at his twin. Kneeling, he scooped some snow and packed it hard, forming a ball in his gloved hands.
“Don’t do it. You’ll be sorry. Trust me.” Bill threw the snowball at his twin and it landed hard on his shoulder. Dropping his own shovel, Tom rushed his brother, grabbing him around the waist and lifting him off the ground.
Bill screamed and kicked as he was carried across the drive. Shock-waves coursed through his limbs when his back his solidly against the ground. Tom straddled his hips and gabbed a handful of snow. Bill’s warms were pinned at his sides by Tom’s legs. Screaming again when he noticed the snow in his brother’s hand, he began wiggling with all of his strength, trying to break free of Tom’s hold. Snow was shoved in his face, a lot filling his open mouth, preventing more screams. He spluttered, still trying to free his arms.
“Get off me!” Bill started flopping against the ground like a fish out of water trying to buck his brother off him.
“Say you’re sorry.”
“No!”
“Bill, say you’re sorry.”
“No! Get off me, now!”
“No. Not until you apologize.” Tom crossed his arms against his chest. He was stronger and weighed more than his brother. If need be, he’d remain sitting on his brother until his twin got hypothermia from the cold. Bill stopped moving under him, poked his lip out and looked up at Tom with lowered lashes.
“Please, Tomi? I’m cold...” Bill pouted, looking pitiful. Quirking an eyebrow, Tom shook his head. He wouldn’t fall for his brother’s tricks. “Please....I’ll do anything for you...” If begging didn’t work, there was always bribery.
“Anything?” Hesitating only for a small second, Bill nodded his agreement. “Okay.” Tom stood, legs still on both sides of his brother’s waist, he lowered his right hand down to help his brother up. Bill took his offered hand and Tom pulled him to his feet easily.
“What do you want?”
“You’ll see. Let’s get this done.” Tom picked up their shovels and handed Bill his. “Come on, the quicker we get this done, the quicker you can do something for me.”
“Okay, why won’t you tell me what it is?” Bill asked as he pushed snow across the drive.
“You’ll see soon. Don’t worry, it’s not bad.”
Simone opened the front door to see her boys pushing snow this way and that. Smiling, she leant against the door frame, arms wrapped tightly around herself. “Boys, cocoa.” The twins looked up, dropping their shovels where they stood and ran inside. Punishment was over.
They drank their cocoa slowly, savoring the warmth it provided, and didn’t speak of the promise Bill had made to Tom. In Bill’s mind, it was forgotten. In Tom’s, it was never a serious promise. He wasn’t even sure what he would have asked of his twin. [
They laughed and together chose a wintry film to watch after dinner.