Two Hands on One Map

Lazlo works in the basement of the city library. The basement is cool and dim and full of old maps. They lie flat in long wooden drawers. They smell like dust and glue.

Most days, nobody comes down the stairs. Lazlo likes that. He drinks coffee, cleans the glass cases, and talks to the maps.

This afternoon, the stairs creak. Lazlo looks up. Two men come down together. They have the same nose, coat, and brown eyes.

"We are here for the prize," says the first man.

"We are here for the prize," says the second man at once.

"Which prize?" Lazlo asks.

"The Silver Compass," says the first man. "For the best map of our city. The city office says the winner gets the prize in this room."

Lazlo remembers the contest. The library asked people to draw their part of the city. One map was clearly the best. It showed every house, every tree, and every cat. A tiny ship sailed on the river in the corner. Lazlo is proud to keep it in the glass case.

He looks at the entry form. There is only one name on it: Barsony.

"There is one map," Lazlo says. "And there are two of you."

"I drew it," says the first man.

"I drew it," says the second man.

"You cannot both draw it," says Lazlo.

"We can," says the first man. "But the prize is for one person."

"So it is mine," says the second man.

"No, it is mine."

They begin to argue. They talk fast, and they wave their hands. Their voices bounce off the stone walls. Lazlo sits down and puts his head in his hands.

He has a problem. The rules are clear. One map, one winner, one prize. But the twins look the same. They sound the same. He cannot tell them apart. He cannot even tell which one lies.

A voice speaks from the back of the room. "Excuse me. I am sorry. Can I help?"

Lazlo turns round. A woman stands by the last drawer. She has a notebook and a pencil in her hand. He sees her here often, but he does not know her name.

"I am Yelena," she says. Her English is slow and careful. "I come here three days a week. I study maps of my home country. And I study English. The two things together."

"I know you," says Lazlo. "You sit at the little table by the window."

"Yes," Yelena says. "I hear your problem. Two men, one map. May I look at it?"

Lazlo waits. He is the keeper of the maps, and she is a stranger. But he is also tired of the noise. He unlocks the glass case and lifts the map onto the table.

Yelena puts on her glasses. She looks at the map for a long time. She does not look at the twins. She does not look at Lazlo. She looks only at the lines.

"Every night I practice letters," she says at last. "A, B, C, and so on. I copy them again and again, like a child. So now I see small shapes in writing. Look here."

She points to the street names. "These letters are tall and straight. Every 'g' has a little flat tail. This is one writer."

Then she points to the river and the little ship. "And here, the lines are soft and round. The 'g' in the word 'Bridge' has a big loop. This is a second writer."

Lazlo leans closer. She is right. He looks at this map every week, but he never sees it.

"Two writers," he says slowly. "Two people drew this."

The twins stop talking. The room is suddenly very quiet.

"Is this true?" Lazlo asks. He looks from one man to the other.

The first man looks at the floor. The second man looks at the ceiling. Then the first man sighs.

"I drew the streets," he says. "My brother is not good at straight lines."

"And I drew the river and the ship," says the second man. "My brother cannot draw a boat. His boats look like shoes."

"They do not look like shoes," says the first man.

"They look like very sad shoes."

Lazlo covers his mouth. He tries not to laugh. Yelena puts her pencil down and smiles.

"Why did you both say you drew it?" Lazlo asks.

"We wanted the prize," says the first man. "But we did not want to say that we need each other."

"We are not good at saying that," says the second man.

Lazlo nods. He looks at the rules again, and he thinks. The rules say one map, one winner. They do not say the winner must be one person.

"Two hands drew one map," he says. "So the Silver Compass goes to the Barsony brothers. I will write both names on the form."

The twins shake hands, then hug. They thank Yelena three times, in the same words.

Lazlo opens a drawer and takes out the prize. It is a beautiful silver compass on a short chain. The twins look at it. Then they look at each other.

"I will wear it on Mondays," says the first man.

"I will wear it on Mondays," says the second man.

"We have a new problem," says the first man.

Lazlo and Yelena look at each other and start to laugh.

"That is not a map problem," Yelena says. "That is a family problem."