by R. L. Austin
Jean bit her lip when Emily first mentioned it, and it took a great deal of begging before she finally put her ear to the glass. “Are you sure? I don’t hear a thing.”
Once again, Emily was hauled to the therapist’s office. She could see the excitement in Dr. Franklin’s eyes as she described the new voice. He usually sat in a leather chair behind his big desk while he listened, but this time he came around and sat beside her. “Hablas español?”
“Huh?”
“I asked if you spoke Spanish. Apparently you don’t.” Doctor Franklin scribbled frantically.
***
One by one, each mirror in the house acquired its own voice, but after describing the third one, a woman who never spoke but cried constantly, Emily overheard Dr. Franklin ask her parents if they would allow her to be admitted for overnight observation.
Emily had seen asylums depicted on television with people walking around all day in their pajamas, talking to the walls, or screaming wildly. The thought of being sent to such a place terrified her, so at her next appointment Emily denied hearing voices at all. Dr. Franklin gave her repeated assurances that hearing voices did not mean she was crazy, but she steadfastly insisted there were no voices. She had made the whole thing up.
On their way home Jean asked, “Are you sure you aren’t hearing voices? It’s okay if you are, because Dr. Franklin has assured us that he can help.”
“I’m very sure.” Emily looked straight ahead. “I was stupid to say those things. They’re crazy. I was…I was upset, and I’m sorry I made you worry about me.”
“Nothing you do is stupid, honey. I know this move has been traumatic for you, and it’s no surprise that you had such an intense reaction. I’m just glad you’re feeling better, that’s all.”
Emily smiled with relief. If her parents wanted to believe that hearing voices was a symptom of being upset about the move, she was content to let them think that way, especially if it meant no more visits to Dr. Franklin’s office.
The next morning Emily’s room was flooded with bright sunshine. Happy to see the sun, and elated to have her therapy visits behind her, Emily decided it was a good day to get out of the house and make some friends. Presidio Park was an easy walk from the house, and she had seen other girls her age hanging out there. With warm sunshine on her face, Emily felt confident that, starting now, things would be different for her in San Francisco.
Determined not to wear a dress, Emily ransacked her closet for something fashionable to wear. She tried on one top after another, but the task of finding the perfect outfit was difficult without the use of a mirror. Hers was covered with a sheet after she heard the deep baritone of a man’s voice coming from it. She had no intention of undressing in front of that mirror again. Eventually satisfied with a pair of embroidered jeans and a pink halter top, she carefully folded the clothes and slipped them into her backpack. She would wear her dress until she left the house, but she intended to change clothes before she got to the park.
On her prior outing Emily had stopped to admire an old, but stately, hotel between the house and the park. The doorman was a grandfatherly type who ushered her in to view the lobby while he regaled her with stories of the hotel’s lustrous past. Emily listened politely until she had to leave, and the old man gave her an open invitation to come back. She felt sure he would allow her to use the hotel bathroom to change clothes.
Before she left the house, Emily dug into the back of a drawer and pulled out a small pocket mirror. She kept the mirror closed and hidden when she wasn’t using it, hoping it would remain free of voices. She used the small mirror to check her hair and scan her face for pimples. Relieved to be zit free, Emily tried to inspect her dress. She placed the open mirror on her nightstand and stepped back, but no amount of twisting, crouching, or standing on tiptoes would allow her to see her entire reflection. What she needed was a bigger mirror, but she no longer felt comfortable using one with a voice. There was one large mirror in a hallway at the back of the house that was still silent. Emily desperately wanted to check herself from head to toe, so she decided to risk using it.
She stood in front of the large hallway mirror and listened for a count of twenty before allowing the first glimmer of hope that the mirror would remain quiet. A full-length mirror had become a luxury, and Emily used the opportunity to make sure the dress showed her curves without being too obvious. Satisfied with her outward appearance, she opened her mouth and peered inside. She had already brushed her teeth, but something could be stuck between them. Emily’s mouth was still open when she heard a boy’s voice.
“Hey, nice teeth, but I could use some help.”
Emily cringed. Please, don’t let this happen again. When she dared to open her eyes, she avoided looking at the mirror.
“I’m right here at the window. Hey, right here.”
It was definitely a boy, but what window? She looked around, but there was no window in the hallway. A dull thump drew her attention back to the mirror.
“Hello, I’m right here. Can’t you see me?”
The directness of the question gave Emily a weird feeling. No other voice had ever spoken to her. Maybe it was a coincidence that it sounded like somebody was watching her from behind a one-way mirror, but it felt kind of spooky.
“I’m riiiiiight heeeeere!”
Yep, this voice definitely sounded like it was talking to her, and it had attitude. She gave the mirror a closer inspection.
“Finally! I was beginning to think I was invisible. And where the heck am I?”
Emily considered what to say. The other voices were all adults, but this one belonged to a boy, and he could obviously see her. It made her wonder if every mirror had someone in it, watching her all the time. The thought sent prickles up the back of her neck.
Another thought also occurred to Emily. Dr. Franklin had insisted that the voices she was hearing weren’t real; they were products of her imagination. If he was right, then this wasn’t happening at all. She must have been so afraid of hearing a voice that her mind created this one. No, I’m not going to allow it. Determined she wasn’t going to hear the voice again, Emily gave her reflection a stern look. “Not again,” she insisted, “and you’re not real,” she snapped before turning away.
“Wait, I need your help. Please!”
Emily stalked away, ignoring the boy’s pleas. She had taken a chance by using the last full-length mirror that didn’t have a voice, and now she couldn’t use it either. She left the house in a sour mood.
CHAPTER 2
Tyler opened his eyes to darkness. He was buried deep in his blankets, so it took time for enough light to filter through to verify it was morning. I’m fifteen today. The realization brought a big smile. He was finally old enough to go into San Francisco by himself—his mother had promised. Tyler bounced out of his bed without bothering to straighten the rumpled sheets. He cranked up his stereo and danced in the shower while he shampooed his hair. With his bangs still wet, he rummaged through his dresser with a toothbrush hanging from his mouth. Score! He found his favorite pair of jeans.
Tyler got dressed in front of his full-length mirror. He knew he wasn’t supposed to be vain, but he didn’t think there was anything wrong with appreciating what he saw. He had joined his high school track team a year earlier. A combination of running and weightlifting had burned away his baby fat, leaving him slim and toned. His chipmunk cheeks had also melted away, and he liked the way his new face emphasized his dimples when he smiled.
Tyler fussed with his dirty blond hair and thanked his parents again for the gift of blue eyes before he bolted from his room and bounded down the stairs three at a time. He hopped onto the handrail and slid the last five feet, landing with a sure-footed thump at the bottom of the stairs. His mother was standing in the kitchen doorway with her hands on her hips.
“How many times have I told you not to do that?” Her smile, however, ruined the lecture.
“It’s my birthday,” Tyler announced with a g
rin, but his smile faltered when he noticed his mother was wearing a business suit. She had recently been elected mayor of the town of Walnut Creek. Her new job had responsibilities; he knew that, but he had hoped she would stay home just this once.
Tyler tried to slip past her into the kitchen, but she grabbed his shoulders and held him while she kissed the top of his head. “Yes, it is. Happy birthday, Ty.”
He pulled away and plopped in a chair at the kitchen table. “Thanks, Mom.”
“I have enough time to fix some breakfast before I go. Would you like some birthday pancakes?”
Tyler slid from his seat to grab the syrup. “That’d be great.” The cabinet was almost empty, except for three bottles of syrup and an old box of corn flakes. The cereal had been his father’s favorite.
“I wish Dad was here.” He immediately cringed at the slip, and a sideways glance made him sag with guilt. His mother was standing at the stove with her hand over her face. He couldn’t hear her, but he knew she was crying. He went over with slumped shoulders and gave her a hug. “Sorry, Mom, I wasn’t thinking, but I miss him so much.”
“It’s okay, Ty. I wish he were here too.” His mother gave him a quick hug and another peck to the top of his head before she turned back to the bowl of pancake mix with a final sniff.
You idiot! Tyler raged at himself as he snatched the syrup out of the cabinet. You had to bring up Dad, and you had to do it today.
His father’s disappearance was just as painful to Tyler, but over time he’d learned to hide his feelings to avoid this kind of response from his mother. He knew his carelessness had spoiled any chance for a birthday celebration, and he knew what was coming. Every time a friend or relative asked, or the police called to report they had no new leads, his mother followed the same routine. She would spend the evening sitting in his father’s favorite chair, staring at his picture and crying. It might be even worse tonight because it was only a week before Nick Andrews had been missing for a full year.
Tyler’s father was the curator for the Walnut Creek Historical Society. The day before he disappeared he found a hidden vault below the museum. The vault contained a black box and dozens of mirrors. Inside the box were two objects. One was dark and triangular, with no obvious purpose. The other looked like a pocket watch. Neither item was cataloged in the museum’s list of artifacts, so Nick decided to take them to a colleague at the San Francisco Exploratorium. His car was later found in the Exploratorium parking lot, but no one had seen him since.
Tyler remembered both the watch and the triad, as his father called the triangular object. Tyler had stopped by the museum that day to get his allowance, and his father had shown them to him before he left. The triad was made of something dark, shiny, and cold to the touch, but it didn’t feel heavy enough to be metal. It also had strange markings his dad called runes etched onto every surface. The watch had corresponding runes, instead of numbers, to mark the hours.
Tyler was relieved to see his mother had stopped crying, but an awkward silence filled the room. In an effort to lighten the mood, Tyler announced, “I think I’ll go into the city today.” She stopped scooping pancakes from the griddle, and the corner of her mouth pulled down, so he quickly added, “With Billy.” Billy Salisbury wasn’t Tyler’s best friend, but they got along well enough. More importantly, Billy was a year older, and Tyler’s mom trusted him.
“Have you cleared this with Billy’s mother?”
“Sure,” he lied, but he was fairly sure Mrs. Salisbury would be okay with it. She had allowed Billy to go into the city alone, once, so why not with him? He picked up his phone to text Billy, but set it back down when his mother came over and handed him a heaping plate of pancakes. He could see she was still debating her decision, so he gave her a winning smile. “Thanks, they look delicious.”
“Just the two of you boys in the city. Hmmm. I’ll have to think about that.”
“I am fifteen today,” he reminded her.
“Yes, you are, and I remember what I said,” she assured him.
His mother looked at the clock. It was only five minutes before she had to leave, so she had to make a decision. She was biting her lower lip when she looked at him again.
Tyler had to suppress a whoop of delight because he knew his mother bit her lip only when she was going to give in. He sat upright but managed not to smile until she said, “Okay, but I want you to promise to behave…and to be home in time for supper.”
“You got it, Mom.” Tyler snatched the syrup and poured it over his pancakes while he planned his day. If he and Billy hurried, they could make the ten o’clock train into San Francisco, which would give them six hours to goof around before they had to be home.
Tyler sent three text messages while he wolfed down his breakfast, but they all went unanswered. After breakfast he hurried over to Billy’s house, but no one was home. That’s when he remembered Billy complaining that he had to attend a funeral for some distant uncle he didn’t even know.
“Aw, man, now what am I gonna do?” Tyler was almost resigned to the idea of returning home and spending the day playing video games when another thought came to him. He could still go if he told his mother that Billy went with him. She’d never know the truth. Twenty minutes later Tyler was playing a video game and listening to music on his phone while the train rumbled toward San Francisco. He waited until the train reached the Powell Street station to get off.
Tyler felt a cool, brisk wind when he stepped out of the station, and the sharp clang of a cable car bell pierced the hum of traffic. These sensations were always exciting, but this time they seemed especially vivid. He had no idea what he wanted to do or where to go, but he walked away from the station to avoid getting marked as a tourist.
A cable car took him north to Chestnut Street, an area he had passed through more than once on his way to the Exploratorium, so he felt comfortable there. Tyler had twenty dollars in his pocket and a strong itch to spend it. The main shopping district was lined with fancy boutique shops and restaurants. They didn’t interest him, so he ventured down side streets, looking for stores that caught his attention.
He found a video game store, and an hour flew by as he scrounged through a giant bargain bin looking for anything he recognized. He found a few games he already had and several more he had read about, but nothing worth buying. Tyler went down several more side streets in an attempt to find a used sporting goods store he remembered, but had no luck finding it. He was close to the Exploratorium when he spotted a street vendor sitting on an overturned bucket behind a rickety table.
The old man’s bushy white eyebrows climbed when Tyler looked at him. Tyler’s mother always avoided street vendors, so his first instinct was to turn away, but she wasn’t there to tell him what to do. The old man displayed a haphazard array of yellow teeth as he lifted a tattered sleeve and waved for Tyler to approach.
Tyler walked up to the table, trying to appear confident. A pile of cheap watches was the first thing to grab his attention. They were labeled $5, but he already owned a watch.
He also noticed the old man desperately needed to take a bath, so he took a step back before he looked over the rest of the table. There was an odd assortment of junk: cigarette lighters, phone chargers, and useless items the man must have plucked from trash cans. An old pocket watch sitting apart from everything else caught his eye. Something about it looked familiar, so Tyler held his breath and leaned in for a better look.
Tyler’s heart started pounding when he recognized the runes that marked the hours. This was the watch his father had found in the box with the triad. He had both of them with him when he disappeared. Tyler quickly scanned the table again, but the triad wasn’t there. He could barely keep his hands from shaking as he picked up the watch, knowing it was an important clue to his father’s disappearance.
“You like that watch, boy?” The vendor licked his lips in a nervous gesture.
“Uh, yeah, I guess.” Tyler didn’t want to sound too excited. “How
much?”
“It’s an antique,” the old man stated flatly. “So it ain’t cheap.”
“How much?”
The vendor licked his lips again. “I’ll sell you that watch for fifty bucks.”
Tyler’s heart sank. He had only twenty dollars, plus an emergency five hidden in his shoe. “I’ve only got twenty dollars.”
His disappointment brought a chuckle from the vendor. “Let me see that.” He pointed at Tyler’s wristwatch.
Tyler placed a protective hand over his watch; a gift from his father. He didn’t want to sell it, but he also didn’t want to pass up a chance to get the pocket watch. It was evidence the police could use.
“Well?” The old man’s bushy eyebrows pinched together.
Tyler took another look at the pocket watch and made his decision. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. “I’ll trade you this instead.” He hated to give it up, but he was pretty sure his mother had gotten him a new phone for his birthday. He’d made a big deal of showing her the one he wanted, downloading the product information for her, and reminding her at least a dozen times over the previous week. Tyler punched in his lock code and pulled the SIM card before he handed the phone over.
The old man examined the sleek silver-and-black casing with an appreciative nod. “I’ll tell you what; you throw in the phone and it’s a deal.”
Tyler was ready. “Deal!” He dug the twenty dollars out of his pocket and handed the wad of cash to the vendor. The money disappeared into the old man’s sleeve, and Tyler snatched up the pocket watch. Once he was holding the watch, Tyler’s heart went back to pounding. His mother would be elated, and the police would use it to find his father; he was sure of it.
“By the way, where’d you get this watch?” Tyler hoped the vendor would reveal something he could tell the police.