by Mary Davis
She put her hand on his to stop him. “Don’t. I like bass.”
He pulled his eyebrows together. “I’ll back it off just a bit.”
The music vibrated through the cab, filling the space. She missed music. She hadn’t brought any with her when she left. She played the organ at the church on her days off occasionally but didn’t get to play regularly. She hadn’t planned on being gone this long. She hadn’t planned anything. Now her fingers were itching for a keyboard.
She turned to him. “What do you have in here?”
He looked over the back of the seat.
She did the same. The seats that normally would have been in the extended part of the cab had been replaced with speakers. A lot of speakers from the look of the grill fronts.
“I have a pair of fifteen-inch woofers, a couple of eights for the mid-range, and two three-inch-wide dispersion dome mid-ranges coupled with two high-compression horn tweeters.”
“It sounds great.” She leaned back in her seat, careful not to jab her hair clip into her head, and closed her eyes, feeling the music pulsate through her body. She drank it in, then soon realized the truck wasn’t moving. She opened her eyes. They were still sitting in the parking lot. “I thought we were going to breakfast.”
“I’m enjoying watching you enjoy my system.”
❧
Breakfast was satisfying, and Brent drove to the first of many tourist traps on the mainland where he planned to take Haley and parked. Since she was a tour guide, she didn’t get to relax as a tourist. But today she would. And these were sights she likely hadn’t seen. She didn’t seem nervous with him anymore. Had he broken through a barrier with her? He left his jacket in his truck, and she left her sweater.
“Where are you taking me now?”
“Sightseeing. I thought you might like being on the other side of the coin.”
“I’ve seen plenty of sights on the island.”
“But does the island have a house of mirrors?” He led her between some buildings that looked as if they came straight from Disneyland, cobblestone walkway and everything. He’d hurry her past the shops.
“Oh. These are the cute Mackinaw shops I’ve heard about. Can we go in some?”
He wasn’t fast enough. “What about the house of mirrors?”
“After that, can we?”
“Sure.” He hoped she would forget, and then he’d be off the hook.
He paid their admission, and they were each given a pair of plastic gloves for wearing to keep their fingerprints off the mirrors. The kind of gloves that were thin, clear, and too big for one’s hands. He held back the curtain to let Haley enter and followed close behind. Red and green lights reflected off white archways with gold-painted designs. He looked directly at an archway and could see a tunnel extending far beyond what this small building could hold. A dozen or more tunnels branched off and curved around to the right and left. All around them.
Haley put her hands out in front of her and felt around for an opening to find her way. He followed.
His hands soon began to feel sweaty inside the thin, clear plastic, but no problem. If he looked at the carpet, he could avoid every mirror without touching one and tugged off the gloves.
“What are you doing? You’re not supposed to take those off.”
“More correct, I’m not supposed to get fingerprints on the mirrors, and I won’t.”
“How—by standing in one place?”
“It’s simple. Look down.” Though the pattern on the triangle wedges of carpet was carefully designed to look like a mirror image, even when butted against another piece of carpet, the mirrors revealed where they were. “The plastic strips joining the carpet triangles give it away. It’s a single flattened half-round where carpet meets carpet but has a line down the middle where the mirror reflects the quarter-round strip.” He pointed to the bottom of one of the mirrors. “See—that one’s a mirror, and that one, but there is your opening.” He stepped over the threshold to a new carpet triangle, turned around, and held out his hands. “See?”
She simply stared at him.
Did she realize her mouth was hanging open?
She touched the mirror on one side of the archway post with one hand and put her other hand through the opening, then stepped across the threshold. She turned around, looking down at each joining strip in turn, calculating the opening. Her gaze slowly rose to him. “That’s cheating.”
“Because I figured out the secret?”
She put her gloved hands on her hips. “Well, it takes the fun out of it. That’s like reading the end of a book to see how things turn out. What is the use of reading the rest if you know how it ends?”
“The Lord didn’t think so, or He wouldn’t have given us Revelation. Aren’t you more comforted knowing Jesus triumphs in the end? I know I am.”
She opened her mouth, then closed it; her eyes widened, then narrowed, then widened again.
He waited for her reply.
Her face went through a few more contortions before she said, “You put the gloves back on, and no looking at the floor.”
“Do you know how impossible it will be not to look at the giveaways after you know about them?”
“Willpower.”
He held out his hands from his sides. “I confess I have none.”
“I believe that. Put the gloves on.” She waited while he slipped his hands back into the sweaty plastic. “Keep your head up and your hands out in front of you.”
He obeyed, took two steps, then looked down. It was impossible not to.
“No.” She stepped in front of him. “Now look at me. Which way?”
He tried to look down, but with her standing in front of him, she blocked his view. But he’d seen the way before she inhibited him. He stepped forward, and she walked backward through the opening.
She nodded. “You already knew that one. Where next?”
It was impossible to tell without looking down. “I don’t know.”
Her smile broadened. “Pick a direction.”
He pointed at random, and she walked backward in front of him. He walked with her until she was backed up against a mirror. He gazed down at her. This was interesting. “You’re right. This is more fun.”
She held his gaze. “Pick another direction.”
“I like this one.”
“But it won’t accomplish the goal of finding the end.” She slid along the mirror to the archway post and around a corner.
One thing he knew was that today he was going to kiss her. He didn’t know when, he didn’t know where, but he knew how. No preamble, no prelude, no building up to it. No chance for her to turn him down. He would just catch her off guard and kiss her.
He went around the corner in pursuit. There sat six of her in a circle, back-to-back-to-back.
She held out her hands with her palms up. “Which one is the real me? No cheating.”
He reached out to the one in front of him and hit a cold mirror.
She laughed softly and waved. “Nope. This one’s me.”
He reached for the next one and took her hand.
At the end of the maze were four silly mirrors, the ones that made a person look disproportionate, fat or short or stretched way long. He watched Haley make faces into them. She certainly knew how to enjoy a situation and not worry how she looked doing it. But he much preferred the real Haley to the reflections of her. Then they headed back through the maze.
He deftly went through a couple of openings, then turned to see if she was following. Though he couldn’t see her directly, he could see her reflection standing firm with her hands on her hips. He peeked back around the corner. “Maybe I should follow you.”
She led the way; soon they were back out, and he could take off the plastic. He wanted to hold her hand, but his hands were sticky and wet from the gloves.
The next stop was the restrooms, and he took advantage of it to wash the drying sweat from his hands. When he met her back out in the square, he was a
bout to suggest they head back to his truck and move on to the next sight, but she spoke first.
“I want to go in that shop.” She pointed across the cobblestone path to a shop with dresses and stuffed animals in the window.
He refrained from groaning audibly. “I’ll wait out here on the bench.” He moved toward a seat.
She took his hand and pulled him toward the shop. “Come on. I know, typically guys don’t like to shop, but it’s not so bad.”
To refuse now would be to remove his hand from hers, and he wasn’t about to do that. He liked having it in his.
Once inside the store, she took her hand back and picked up some small trinket. “Isn’t this cute?”
He gazed at her face. “Cute.” She had pulled a bait and switch on him: Take his hand long enough to lure him into the store, then release it once he was trapped. He followed her around as she looked at one trinket after another. Soon she stepped outside, and he drank in the fresh air.
She took him by the arm and guided him into the next shop. He picked at a few knickknacks while she looked around. The next thing he knew, something was plopped onto his head.
“Turn around,” Haley said.
As he did, he reached to remove the object from his head.
Haley grabbed both of his hands and pulled them down. “Don’t. I want to see it on you.” She smiled broadly, then pulled him over to a mirror by a rack of oversized, furry hats in varying bright colors.
Which one had she chosen for him? It didn’t matter; he was sure he looked ridiculous. A blue, furry, oversized top hat. Ridiculous didn’t quite cover it.
Haley giggled. “It’s not really you.”
“I could have told you that.” He removed it and placed it on her head. “I don’t like hats.” He ruffled his hair with his hands.
Her claw hair thing didn’t allow the hat to sit right on her head. She put it back on the rack. “I’m not a hat person either.” She turned back to him and pointed to one side of his head. “Your hair is mussed up on that side.”
Though his hair was short on the side, the top was a little longer and moppy. He ran his fingers through his hair again. “Better?” He never tried to do much with it, just let it sort of scatter where it would, so there wasn’t any need to fix it.
“Uh-huh.”
He gazed into her upturned face. Was this the time? Should he kiss her now? No. It was too early in the day, this place too public. He didn’t want to scare her off. Instead, he enjoyed the moment until she turned away and looked at a rack of T-shirts.
She held up a light green one with three kittens on it to herself. “What do you think?”
She was asking him? “It’s nice.”
She hung it back on the rack and moved on.
Had he said the right thing? Should he have made a bigger deal out of it? He had no practice shopping with a woman, but he wanted to do something to gauge how Haley had taken his comment. “Look at this.” He pointed to a fluffy white stuffed cat. She had picked a T-shirt with cats; maybe she’d like this.
She turned immediately. “Oh. It’s so cute.” She picked it up and petted it.
“I’ll buy it for you.”
She gifted him with a smile. “I don’t want to have it. I just like looking.”
She took him in and out of several more shops. He lost count. He was getting pretty good at figuring out what she would like; she favored cats and dolphins.
This shopping thing wasn’t so bad. Was it the company? That definitely helped. Maybe it was that shopping was always a solitary act for him—a reminder he was alone in this world except for the Lord. But that wasn’t the same as having a flesh and blood person to share things with. And he certainly liked sharing his time with Haley, even shopping.
Seven
Once back inside his truck, he said, “So where do you want to go next? There is Colonial Michilimackinac; they do reenactments like at the fort on Mackinac Island. Or Historic Mill Creek, the Mystery Spot, and Old Mackinac Point Lighthouse.”
“I don’t care. You’re the tour guide.” She appreciated his being a sport about going into the shops.
“I was rather curious about the Mystery Spot. Sounds mysterious.”
He drove across the five-mile Mackinac Bridge to St. Ignace. The rhythmic thump every two or three seconds as the tires rolled over one of the bridge joints shifted to a hum as the left lane changed from pavement to a metal grate. The center archways of the bridge loomed larger. The bridge had been completed in 1957, and every year on Labor Day, some special walk took place across it.
Brent stopped at a diner for lunch before continuing on to the Mystery Spot. After he paid their admission at the gift shop, they joined the group on the steep hillside ready to begin the tour.
“If I could have everyone gather around the flagstone.” The petite red-haired guide pointed to a cement block about three feet square on the slanted paved path and waved people closer to her. “The Mystery Spot is the area from the back of the gift shop up the hill, just past the building on the hillside. This area is an anomaly where gravity is defied. If you look in front of me, you will see our flagstone. It marks the entrance into the Mystery Spot.”
Haley leaned closer to look as did others in the group.
Brent bent toward her ear. “I’d say a cement slab in the middle of the woods would be a mystery. How did it get here?”
She smiled and jabbed him softly in the ribs. “Be nice. You wanted to come here.”
The tour guide continued, “I need two volunteers who are about the same height.”
“My brothers are identical twins,” said a brown-haired girl of about ten wearing a green plaid sundress. “They’re the same height.”
A pair of gangly youths, about fourteen, stepped forward.
The guide placed a level on the cement block. “Is the flagstone level?”
The twins looked, and both nodded.
Haley felt Brent move closer to her as the crowd shifted to try to get a look—as if any of them except the twins and the guide could see the bubble in the level.
“Please step up on this side of the stone,” the guide said to the twin in the blue T-shirt. She then turned to the one in the orange T-shirt and added, “And you stand on this side.” The boys obeyed. The guide looked to the group. “Who is taller?” Everyone in the group agreed that the boy in orange was taller. “Inside the Mystery Spot, people are taller. Now switch places,” she said to the boys. “Who is taller now?”
It was incredible. This time the boy in blue looked taller. But Haley knew the two boys couldn’t change heights. She knew the Lord could do it in an instant, but she didn’t believe He chose to and certainly not as a spectacle.
“Follow me up this way,” the guide said.
Haley stopped at the far end of the group with Brent close at her side. Before her stood a slanted wood-planked structure. Though it was built to look like a failing old building, it seemed solid to her.
The guide did a demonstration on the outside of the building with a red ball and water traveling up a shallow trough.
Haley scanned the crowd: a couple of families perhaps, a group of four college boys, and a young couple. But then maybe these groups and pairs weren’t even together. They just appeared to be together from her view. To everyone else, she and Brent must appear to be a couple. Though spending time together today, they were not a “couple.”
Yet.
Where had that come from? She looked up sideways at Brent. Were they beginning to become a couple? She wasn’t looking for a boyfriend but couldn’t deny her attraction to him. She kind of liked the idea of being a couple with Brent.
At the doorway, the guide did another demonstration of the strange forces at work, then directed the group inside. “There is a handrail up on your left.” Once everyone had filed inside and found their footing on the steeply slanted floor, the redheaded guide talked about the two-foot-high table in the bottom corner of the room, then asked for a volunteer.
Haley wanted to test the waters with Brent a little and grabbed his forearm and raised it.
The guide smiled. “It looks as if you’ve been volunteered, sir.”
Brent gave Haley a good-natured sideways glance and handed her his camera case. “It looks as if I have.” He stepped easily up onto the table as directed, leaned off over the front edge, and looked under the table before stepping down. Three more tried to do the same thing before the guide moved on to the next one.
It was strange to see people standing with their feet hanging off the edge of a table and then leaning so far forward they looked as if they should fall but didn’t.
Haley again volunteered Brent, but the guide chose others to try to stand up from the chair leaning against the wall at the bottom of the sloping floor. The catch was that they weren’t allowed to use their hands to push themselves out of the chair. None of them was successful without their hands. Before the guide moved on, she turned to Brent. “The lady would like you to try this one.”
Brent handed his camera case to Haley again and stepped forward. Before he sat in the chair, he gave her a little bow. “Whatever the lady wants.” He could no more stand up out of the chair without the use of his hands than the four beefy college boys. All had had to push off the armrests to get up.
“Who would like to try this next one?” the redhead asked.
Brent took Haley by the shoulders and moved her forward. “She does.” Turnabout was fair play.
The guide smiled and had Haley sit in a red wooden armchair with the two back legs up on a board nailed six inches or so off the ground. The guide tipped the front legs off the ground and leaned the chair against the wall on the two back legs that were up on the board on the wall. “Have you ever sat in a chair on the wall before?”
Haley shook her head. She could remember getting in trouble for rocking back in her chair at home. Brent snapped a picture.
“Okay. Sit very still and don’t move.” The guide tipped the chair forward partway and worked it back and forth until it was balanced on just the two back legs on the wall, then took her hands away.