A week after the funeral, Chris and Sam sat waiting in their deceased Uncle’s office waiting for the attorney to begin. Typical for John Drury, the contents of his will were only known to the attorney which caused more than a bit of apprehension for Chris who, although trying his best, could not stop fidgeting. Sam sat relaxed and occasionally glanced at his twin.

When John Drury died of a sudden heart attack, it was safe to say that there weren’t too many people who were upset. Known as a ruthless businessman, his employees often called him Mr. Dreary behind his back, which suited the dour man well. Unmarried and age unknown, he left his entire estate to his two grand-nephews.

The twins were typical 20-somethings and unremarkable in all outward appearances. Sam was dressed in a chocolate brown sports coat with matching slacks. Chis wore a white dress shirt and khakis. Sam was a caring sort with a sunny disposition that was almost the complete opposite of his Uncle. He knew his John was wealthy, but never took part in the business. Chris had always harbored ambitions of taking over the business and wheedled and cajoled his Uncle every chance he got.

Peering over his glasses, the attorney said,“Gentlemen”, with as little irony as he could muster after a long day. “In addition to the money already discussed, your Uncle left these two items.”

Laid out on the desk were a flash drive labeled ‘memories’ and large lacquered box with a key.

“I was instructed to tell you that before you leave this office today, the two of you must decide who takes possession of each of these two items. One each. I’ll leave you here until you have reached a final decision.”

With his ominous words still ringing, he left the room.

As the door clicked shut, Chris stood immediately and went to the cigar box on the desk. He lifted one out and snipped the end.

“I don’t suppose you want one?”

Sam pursed his lips slightly and gave his head a slow shake.

“I didn’t think so”

Chris clicked the lighter and the flame shot up with a whoosh.

“All this”, he said waving the torch in a sweeping gesture, “All this is useless to you. You never cared about the business and you could never replace Uncle.”

“You’re the only one who ever cared about business, and you never cared about people”, said Sam.

Finally lighting his cigar, Chris said, “I suppose you want the box.”

“I guess so”, said Sam. “It doesn’t really matter to me.”

Chris narrowed his eyes. “This is a trick”, he thought to himself. “Uncle probably has bonds, certificates, and corporate papers in the box, but that drive must have all the data about his secret accounts.”

“You should take the box”, said Chris. “You spent more time with Uncle and he probably left a keepsake that would mean a lot more to me than you.”

“He has no idea what I’d prefer”, thought Sam.

“Oh no”, said Sam. “He probably left important papers in the box. You should take it.”

It suddenly became quiet for longer than was comfortable for either of them. Chris assumed that Sam was trying reverse psychology on him as a trick to make him take the less valuable item. Sam knew what he wanted but just wanted to get this over with quickly.

“Like I said, it doesn’t really matter which one I get. Uncle John’s business has made money off the backs of workers that have never been fairly compensated. I’m donating my half to charity.”

Sam saw Chris stiffen at his statement. He knew Chris would be scheming about ways to keep both halves for himself in addition to the box and drive. “We may look alike, and I know how he thinks, but we’re nothing alike”, he thought.

“Charity”, Chris scoffed. “You’d throw away everything Uncle John built just to ease your guilty conscience?”

Leaning forward in his chair, Sam said, “The company he built? Nobody seems to know how it came into being and it seems as if Uncle came out of nowhere to take charge 40 years ago in the days before computerized records. He claimed that his grandfather left it to him, but there isn’t even a photo of the old man.”

“Isn’t that just like you?”, said Chris. “Always looking under every rock instead of looking ahead. I’m five minutes older, but it might as well be 5 years since you never could keep up with me.”

Chris looked for a sign that his withering insult had an effect, but none was forthcoming. Sam sat rock still with a bemused half-smile on his lips.

“Well”, said Sam as he took in a deep breath, “I always knew that you thought that five-minute gap was somehow consequential. Just the fact that it grew into five years in your mind shows me how insecure you really are.”

This time, the silence was longer and more laden with potential. The brothers eyed one another. Each determining the best point to exert pressure on to get what he wanted.

Finally, Chris broke the silence.

“If I’m insecure like you say, I guess I should take that drive that’s probably full of family photos so I can soothe my ego with memories.”

“Photos!”, thought Chris, “Let the idiot and his squishy logic think that if he wants. I know there are secrets on that drive that will make up for the half he’s going to squander ‘for the good’.”

Doing his best to put on a puppy-dog face, Chris said, “I guess you really do know me better than I thought. I’ll… I’ll take the drive.”

Sam nodded and went to the door to let the attorney in.

“You have both agreed and decided?”, said the attorney.

Both nodded their heads.

“Good. Here’s the papers to make it official. My assistant here will notarize it.”

The assistant seemed to appear out of nowhere, verified the signatures, and disappeared just as quickly with his stamp and book making everything legal.

The attorney presented the drive to Chris and the key to Sam. Still eying each other, they took their prize and shook the attorney’s hand.

Now that the papers were signed, Chris left quickly to investigate whatever riches he hoped were on the drive. Sam went to the door and checked that it was locked before returning to sit at the desk, facing the box. He had to stifle a laugh as he thought about the look on Chris’ face when he said he would donate his half. “What a fool. If he knew half as much about Uncle’s business as he thinks he does, he’d know that all the success wasn’t due to just hard work. Whatever is on that drive could never match the value of what I suspect is in this box.”

He took the key and carefully clicked the lock open. A musty odor escaped as he lifted the lid. Inside were a pile of papers and on the top, a birth certificate for John Drury dated April 12, 1835. His eyes opened wide and a broad grin slowly spread over Sam’s face as he leafed through the pages, stopping at one titled “Incantation for Life Preservation”. Just under that was one titled “Hexes” with a long list of methods for disposing on foes.

“Now”, thought Sam, “Chris will see first-hand, exactly how Uncle John made his fortune.”