I HAVE A DILEMMA... COULD THIS BE TROUBLE?

Many, many, many years ago, a real-life event happened that caused me to wonder "But what if...?"  That's the only clue (not that it's much of one) to what inspired me that you're going to get.  I decided to write a novel based on the event, but never actually got around to starting it until a few years back.  I know exactly where it's going, story-wise, but because I suffer from a medical condition that leaves me utterly fatigued for long periods, I never got past the first two chapters.

So, I've decided to present them, one at a time, here on my blog.  There are two reasons for this.  Your reaction will let me know if it's a story that's worth telling (or at least, one that people would be interested in reading), and it may also motivate me to start on chapter three.

The title of the tale is, tentatively, Double Trouble, but I'll hopefully come up with a better one.  (Twin Dilemma perhaps?)  Anyway here's the first chapter - hope you like it.  I'm sure you'll soon tell me if you don't.

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Chapter One:

Ted Stevens looked at himself in the hall mirror, raised his glass to his lips and allowed himself a smile.  "Here's to life - which is good," he said, winking at his reflection and downing his scotch in one neat, swift gulp.

For Ted, life certainly was good.  His investigative affairs programme, "On The Spot", had just been approved for renewal by the network for another three seasons and he felt invigorated by the challenges and opportunities that this would provide.  He was due a vacation, after which he would again be free to devote himself to the expose he was currently working on.  "If I can pull this off..."  The sound of the doorbell interrupted his reverie.  "It's open - come in," he said to the door, which opened to reveal what appeared to be the very mirror-image he had winked at only moments before.

"You're late, what kept you?" he said to his double.  "Trouble with the car. Where's Mary?" asked Ben, looking around.  "At her mother's," came the reply.

Ben Stevens was Ted's identical twin - almost to the point of being a clone.  Usually there is some identifying feature which, to those that know them, marks the difference between twins, but in Ted's and Ben's case, Mother Nature had decided to confuse the issue beyond the bounds of fair-play.  Only their personalities and the manner in which they spoke distinguished them.  Ted was shy, quiet, controlled;  Ben was loud, brash - an extrovert who loved being the life and soul of the party.

They were two identical peas in a pod, and Ted often wondered at the irony that - although they were physically alike in every way - Ben always seemed to have more girlfriends than him when they were teenagers.  Why?  He was every bit as good-looking as his brother - why hadn't girls thrown themselves at him in the same quantities that Ben had attracted?  The girls could have told him.

"Drink?" asked Ted.  "Scotch and soda - one small one won't hurt," said his brother.

"Give me your keys and help yourself - you know where it is.  I'll move my car into the garage and bring yours up on the driveway.  I don't want that asshole at number 28 going on about blocking his access again."

"You don't have your shoes on - relax, I'll do it.  These your keys on the table?  Pour me my drink and I'll be back in a moment."

Ben went out, whistling, and Ted half-filled a glass.  He sat down, put his feet up and fixed his eyes on the ceiling.  A small spider froze in its travels, as if transfixed by his gaze.  "Spider-Man, Spider-Man - does whatever a spider can," he sang to himself, unconsciously.  Suddenly the room shook, and the sounds of an almighty explosion filled the air outside his house.  Stunned for a moment, he recovered and rushed to the door.  On his driveway, a scene of utter devastation confronted him.  His car was a wreck, belching out black smoke and orange flame in nearly equal measure.  His brother's legs protruded from the opening where the car door had been.  Just his legs - the rest of him had been blown to oblivion in the blast.  The car door lay in the garden of number 28, whose elderly resident looked out of his window with an annoyed expression, as if he were about to complain about the mess.

Ted turned from the horror and was violently sick all over his front doorstep.  He staggered to his 'phone, and - as if in some mad, horrible, slow-motion nightmare - punched out 911 on the numbers.  He spoke feverishly and, when he had finished, collapsed onto his armchair and stared at the ceiling.  The spider was gone.  It's funny the things you remember from the worst times in your life.  Ted would remember that spider for the rest of his.

Outside, the sound of sirens could be heard in the distance.  Ted Stevens sat and sobbed, unaware of quite how that moment was about to change the course of his life forever.

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Well, how does that grab you?  Want to read chapter two?  Let me know, amigos.

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