The car was dark and silent, free of radio or conversation, only the sound of the tires rotating over damp freeway, devouring the space between Seattle and our destination.

     I had wanted to drive because it was familiar and felt the way that I thought home was supposed to feel like but instead the last couple of hours of the trip found Spencer behind the wheel. Frances and Jane had welcomed me back with beer and wine. I was light and dizzy as I sat in the passenger's seat with knees tucked into my chest so that I resembled something of a ball. I blew on the cool window with hot breath and dragged my finger through the condensation. I wasn't creative enough to think of patterns so I drew straight lines close together until the whole thing was wiped clean.

     When I felt myself about to speak, I pressed my lips together in an attempt to memorize every word they would make and I turned my head to direct the flow towards Spencer.

I stared at his thin face, glasses, messy hair and wanted to reach out to him, to touch him and connect with him as I confessed what I had been thinking all along,

     "You are as close to being a brother to me as anyone has ever been."

     Eugene.

     Really what I could've said, what I had meant was,

     "You are as close to being a brother to me as Eugene had ever been."

     Intuitive Spencer didn't need explanation. He took one hand from the steering wheel and ruffled my hair.

     I looked into the backseat, Eugene was laying across it with his back to me and head down into his arm as though he were sleeping.

     Peace.

     I unbuckled my seatbelt, crawled over the center divide and into the spot where Eugene had been laying. I rested my body in his exact same position then closed my eyes.