Beyond the Reflection's Edge

by Bryan Davis

  “Can’t school wait till we get back?”

  “Not a chance. We set up your secret identity and filed your transcript, and they already know you’ll be out on Tuesday for family matters, or so we told them. When you and Kelly come to Chicago, we’ll talk about what I find at Interfinity. Since your father says it’s dangerous for you to be peeking through dimensional peepholes, you might as well stay here.”

  Nathan slumped his shoulders. “Is Kelly’s father coming to the funeral?”

  “I asked him to, but he says he has to stay here. Kelly will have to drive.”

  “Why? I have my license.”

  “Because it’s their car.” She planted a finger on his chest. “And you’d better get used to the idea. Tony rides his motorcycle to his morning shift at a machine shop, so he doesn’t get to the school for coaching until the afternoon. That means Kelly will be driving every day.”

  Nathan sank another inch in his chair. “I guess I can deal with that.”

  “Of course you can. She’s a sweetheart. She even volunteered to help you through the registration process, and she’ll probably want to introduce you to her friends.”

  Nathan tightened his grip on the pencil but said nothing. Was the prospect of meeting Kelly’s friends supposed to cheer him up?

  The clatter of a metal pan rang from the hallway, making him swing his head around. “That reminds me. What are we going to do with Francesca?”

  “What choice do we have? I should take her with me. She can’t stay here by herself, and we can’t very well send her home.”

  “Yeah. With Gordon and Mictar stalking her, it won’t be safe for her here or there.” As he replayed their escape from Francesca’s house, he shook his head sadly. It looked like the burglar killed her mother just like in his own dimension, but now he knew his mom escaped thirty years ago by hiding under the bed. Obviously, Gordon and Mictar had planned to kill this new Francesca and make sure the burglar got the blame.

  So that meant he had at least done something right. Even though he had altered the events in Francesca’s dimension, he had saved her from Mictar. As goose bumps rose all along his skin, he shuddered and looked up at Clara. “I don’t want to think about what would happen if that creep got hold of her.”

  Clara clapped her hands lightly. “But he didn’t, and we’ll make sure we keep her safe. I’ll take her with me to Chicago. I’m sure she won’t be any trouble at all.”

  He rose from his seat and gave Clara a serious stare. “She’s my mother. Take good care of her.”

  “I’m going to warn her about the crazy son she might have some day.” Giving him a sly wink, she turned toward the bedroom door. “Let’s go and see what Kelly’s cooking up.”

  “Wait.” Nathan picked up a screwdriver from the top of his cabinet and took it to the mirror. Kneeling at the bottom left corner, he inserted the blade end behind the square he had placed in the matrix.

  Clara walked closer. “What are you doing?”

  “This is the piece Dad gave me, but it won’t come loose.” Sliding the blade in as far as he could, he pushed against the handle. “If I’m supposed to look in the mirror whenever I get into trouble, I’m taking it to school with me, and I don’t want it creating any of those portal views by itself.”

  The square popped loose into his free hand. “Got it!”

  A burst of light flashed from the mirror, making a hollow popping sound. Like a splash in a pond, ripples of radiance emanated from the center, fading as they approached the edges. After a few seconds, the light disappeared.

  “Well,” Clara said, setting her hands on her hips, “I think the big mirror’s back to normal.”

  “Yeah, it’s weird.” He balanced the extricated piece on his palm, eyeing it as he turned it slowly. “I feel like I’m holding another world in my hand, like there’s billions of people in there who have no idea that someone’s got them all teetering in his grasp.”

  She shook her head. “That’s too deep for me to think about, especially on an empty stomach.”

  “Then let’s get some grub.” Tucking the mirror under his arm, Nathan climbed to his feet and headed for the hall. “But I hope we’re not having eel pie for dinner.”

  8

  THE KEY TO THE MIRROR

  Sitting in the front passenger’s seat of Kelly’s Camry Nathan glared at his watch, trying to read the numbers in the dimness of the garage. If she didn’t hurry up, they’d be late for sure, and that wouldn’t be a great way to make a first impression at a new school.

  He pulled down the sun visor and stared at his eyes in the mirror. Yep. Red streaks. Nightmares again. This time about driving Kelly’s car in a crazy highway chase. He unzipped a red backpack sitting on the floorboard between his sneakers. The mirror was still fairly secure, wrapped in a Gatorade towel and a sweater. Without any books yet for padding, he’d have to be careful to keep it from knocking against anything. At least the sweater would help. Although it was kind of muggy this morning, the radio had mentioned the possibility of a cold front coming through, maybe before school let out in the afternoon. Apparently the weather was going crazy. The temperature was supposed to drop below freezing that night.

  Opening the backpack’s external pocket he checked for his cell phone and ATM card. Everything was exactly where it was supposed to be. Now if only they could get going.

  He shifted his gaze to the door between the garage and the house, hoping every second it would swing open and reveal Kelly’s familiar form. He narrowed his eyes. What would she be wearing on this warm morning? Something tight and revealing like most girls nowadays? He hoped not. Sure, with her athletic body she’d look great, but … He squirmed in his seat. He’d just have to stay cool. He could handle it.

  The door slammed. Fishing in her purse for her keys, Kelly scooted toward the car. The legs of her loose-fitting beige slacks swiped together as she hustled, but her hair, pinned back neatly with a pair of silvery barrettes, stayed in place. Finding her keys, she stopped at the car door and brushed her short–sleeve navy polo shirt, smoothing out a wrinkle where it overlapped her waistband.

  She slid behind the wheel, threw her purse into the back next to his violin case, and pressed a button on the car’s sun visor, triggering the automatic door opener. As the door rumbled upward, she thrust in the keys and cranked the engine. “Good,” she said, patting the dashboard. “It’s behaving today.”

  As she gave the car plenty of gas, Nathan listened to the engine roar. “Starter troubles?” he asked.

  “Sometimes.” The idle speed died down to a slow, rattling hum. “Sorry I took so long. I couldn’t decide what to wear.”

  Nathan locked his gaze on her, trying not to get flustered. “You look … uh … nice.”

  As she zoomed out of the garage and down the driveway, she smiled. “You think so?”

  “Yeah. I thought —“Nathan bit his tongue and faced the front. How could he possibly tell her that he expected something more revealing? “Never mind.”

  When the car straightened on the road, Kelly stepped on the gas, giving the tires a slight squeal. Her smile vanished. “You thought what?”

  Fingering his backpack zipper, Nathan shifted closer to the door. “I’m not going to say. It was stupid.”

  She turned onto the main highway and accelerated, her lips thin and taut. After a few seconds of silence, she shook her head, speaking barely above a whisper. “It wasn’t stupid.”

  He pulled the zipper back and forth along its track but said nothing. Had she really figured it out? If she had, would she think he actually wanted her to dress that way? A surge of warmth flooded his cheeks. This was going to be a long day.

  She glanced at him for a half second before turning back to the road. “No offense, Nathan, but I’m not looking forward to this at all.”

  “Are you worried about what I’ll think of your friends?”

  She breathed a nervous chuckle. “Not exactly.”

  He checked out his own clo
thes. He didn’t have much to choose from this morning, only what Clara had bought after their luggage went for a swim in the river, but no one would think jeans and a black polo shirt were geeky would they? The white lettering on the front of the shirt spelled out Hebrew words from the Bible, but what high school student could figure out what the message said? He sighed. “This isn’t going to be easy for me, either.”

  She kept her eyes on the road. “Why is that?”

  “I’ve never been to a real school before. I’m sure to do something that’ll make me look like an idiot.”

  “You’ll be fine. Just relax and be yourself.” Kelly flipped on the radio. The wail of an electric guitar screamed from the speakers, scratching out note after note in a cacophonous frenzy. She changed the station and scanned through the frequencies. “You like classical, right?”

  “Sure. Classical, baroque, romantic. It’s all good.”

  “The classical station isn’t one of my presets, but I’ll find it.”

  “Don’t worry about me. I like almost anything with a melody.”

  “Okay.” She punched a button. “Country music always has a melody.”

  He was about to repeat his statement, emphasizing “almost anything,” but changed his mind. He closed his eyes, leaned against the window, and lost himself in the wash of warbling steel guitar riffs and lamenting lyrics about a cheating wife. Every few seconds, he partially opened one eye and sneaked a look at Kelly. With her stare trained on the road and both hands firmly gripping the wheel, she displayed the perfect portrait of a careful driver. Yet, with her fingers clenched so tightly, something more had to be going on. He let his gaze wander up to her face where a tear began to trickle toward her cheek.

  She punched the radio power button and swiped at the tear. “Did you hear something strange?”

  “You mean besides the singing?”

  “It’s kind of a moaning sound … sort of muffled. It didn’t come from the speakers.”

  “Nope. Nothing like that.” He reached into the backseat and pulled his violin case into his lap. “Could this be talking again?”

  She angled her head and listened. “I don’t hear it now.”

  He flipped up the latch but left the lid closed as he caressed its cool black surface.

  “Whose violin is that?” Kelly asked. “Yours, Francesca’s, or your mother’s?”

  “Francesca took hers to Chicago. I wanted to make a good impression with the orchestra, so I brought my mother’s.”

  “The way you play?” She gave a gentle laugh and rolled her eyes. “I don’t think you have anything to worry about. They’ll think you’re the second coming of Mozart.”

  “I didn’t want to take any chances.”

  She pointed forward. “School’s right around this corner.”

  He straightened in his seat. As she turned onto an oak–lined road, the building came into view, a modern, two–story brick structure — L–shaped with a tall flagpole just outside the elbow. A long white banner stretched across the front of the pole with Cardinals spelled out in red letters.

  Nathan leaned forward. “It’s bigger than I thought.”

  “Not huge. About a thousand kids.” With the parking lot nearly full, she rolled into a space in the back row. “Let’s get moving. First period’s in five minutes, and we have to get you registered.”

  Pulling his backpack and violin, Nathan ducked out of the car. Kelly had already charged ahead, not bothering to lock the door. He balanced his load and followed her, trying not to look like a fool as he trotted in her wake. As he passed between two parked cars, a driver flung open his door. With a deft twist, Nathan lifted his load high and squeezed through the narrow gap. He accelerated again, glancing back. The driver in a dark blazer got out of his Lincoln Town Car and crossed his arms, watching him run. Although Nathan had swept past the man quickly, he saw enough of the driver’s face to give him the feeling that they had met before.

  Now jogging more slowly, Kelly made a wide circle around a clique of girls and breezed past the flagpole before waiting at the main entrance’s double doors. With a brisk wind kicking up, the pole’s empty ropes snapped against the metal, tapping out a rhythmless jangle.

  Nathan raced across the patio and joined her as she held one of the doors open for him. He brushed past and pulled open the closest of a second set of doors only a few feet in front of the first, returning the favor as he propped it with his knee.

  After striding to the middle of the circular lobby, Kelly paused. She pointed at a hole in the ceiling, a smaller circle that created an opening to the second floor. “We call this the rotunda.” From the floor up above, two girls leaned against a railing and looked down at them with blank stares.

  “Let’s go.” She led him to the office, a large room adjacent to the rotunda. A girl, somewhat close to Kelly’s height and build and wearing jeans and a red Abercrombie T-shirt, bustled through the open office doorway. “Hey, Kelly girl,” she said. “You’re looking …” Her gaze drifted up and down Kelly’s body for a moment, then, flashing a nervous smile, she continued. “Well … prim today.”

  “Thanks.” Pinching the girl’s cheek, Kelly pursed her lips. “And you look positively conformist.”

  As the girl walked away she aimed a finger at Kelly. “I’ll get you for that, my pretty!” With a wide grin, she added, “And your little dog, too!”

  Nathan pointed at himself. “Am I supposed to be your little dog?”

  “Oh, don’t mind Daryl,” Kelly said with a wave of her hand. “That’s a Wizard of Oz quote. She’s a genius and a movie geek.”

  He watched Daryl jog down the hall, her long red hair flapping behind her back. If not for her hair and freckles, she could be Kelly’s clone. She seemed nice enough, maybe a bit air-headed, but nice.

  “Is she your friend?” he asked.

  “Practically my best friend. Why?”

  “Just wondering.” Smiling, he closed the door to the hallway. It was kind of cool to see best friends poking fun at each other like that. Some of the girls he knew would get all bent out of shape if anyone kidded about how they were dressed.

  Inside the office anteroom, two ladies stood behind a counter looking at a clipboard together, obviously preoccupied for the moment. The soft buzz of rock music played somewhere nearby strangely muffled and tinny. A boy in a black T-shirt and untied sneakers sat in one of the waiting area chairs at the back, his head lolling to the side. With one of his iPod earbuds dangling and his mouth wide open, he seemed either sick or asleep.

  Nathan traced the sounds of classical guitar, a well–blended drumbeat, and vibrant vocals to the loose earpiece. An old Fleetwood Mac song? Apparently this kid enjoyed seventies rock.

  One of the women stepped up to the counter. “May I help you, Kelly?”

  Kelly smiled at the friendly face. “Hi, Mrs. Washington! I brought the new student my dad told you about.”

  The silver–haired lady pushed her half–lens glasses down her nose and peered over the frame. “Oh, is this Kyle Simmons?”

  “Uh-huh. He’s staying with us for a while.”

  Nathan extended his hand over the counter. “I’m pleased to meet you, Mrs. Washington.”

  After shaking hands, Mrs. Washington searched through a stack of file folders on her workspace. “Daryl had your paperwork out on Friday. I’ll have to find it.”

  A new voice breezed in from the side. “He’s good looking and polite, Kelly. Nice catch.” A tall, shapely girl sashayed along the office’s inner hallway. She propped three books against her diaphragm, her fingers interlaced underneath. “Or should I say, ‘nice rebound’?”

  Kelly spoke in a condescending tone. “Better stick to makeup and hairspray, Brittany. Basketball terms are a bit out of your league.”

  Nathan stared at the two girls. Obviously this wasn’t playful banter, and Brittany was about as genuine as press–on nails. But what could he do? This was their territory, not his.

  Apparently unfazed
, Brittany strutted closer in her low–neck ribbed tunic. “Kelly and Kyle has a nice ring to it,” she said. Then, giving Kelly a wink, she added, “I guess living together gives you a lot of … opportunities.”

  Kelly arched her brow at the taller girl and spoke in an innocent tone. “I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  Brittany let out a mock gasp. “You don’t? Even after going out with Steven for two whole months?”

  Speaking through clenched teeth, Kelly sharpened her voice. “No. I don’t.”

  Brittany touched a bejeweled heart pendant dangling from a necklace. “Well, I must say that I’m amazed. From what I understand, your mother took a few opportunities while your father was at away games. You could have learned a lot from her.”

  Her cheeks ablaze, Kelly raised a tightened fist. “Listen, Brittany you might be taller than me, but I swear, if you —”

  “Swear?” Brittany covered her mouth. “Nuns don’t swear, do they?”

  Kelly drew her head back. “Nuns? What are you talking about?”

  “I heard from Daryl that you changed.” Brittany’s eyes moved up and down, scanning Kelly’s clothes. “But I didn’t know you went Catholic school on us.”

  “Miss Tyler!” Mrs. Washington said, glaring at Brittany. “You may leave now. You’ve already caused enough trouble for one morning.”

  A book slid from Brittany’s pile. She chirped a girlish “Oops” and kicked it toward Nathan’s shoes. As he squatted to pick it up, she bent way over to receive it, obviously flashing as much skin as she could.

  Averting his eyes, Nathan handed her the book. “Here you go.”

  “Thank you, Kyle.” She blew him a kiss and continued her strut toward the door. “I’ll have to tell Steven about your change, Kelly. He might want a new picture of you to add to the gallery of Kelly photos in his locker.”

  When she closed the door, Kelly balled up both fists. “Acid-tongued —”

  Biting her lip, she swung around toward Mrs. Washington, who slid a piece of paper toward Nathan and nodded firmly at Kelly. “Say whatever you want, girl. My lips are sealed.” Kelly loosened her fingers. “If I said what I was thinking, the paint would peel.”