The Mirror (Northwest Passage Book 5)

by John A. Heldt

  Ginny laughed to herself as she thought of all the times she had seen Cindy Smith blush. Her paternal grandmother turned red over everything from compliments about her cooking to explicit lyrics. Some things, apparently, didn't change.

  "What are your folks up to?" Katie asked. "I haven't seen them in a while."

  "My dad's watching TV now. My mom's staying out of his way. He gets kind of cranky when he watches the news."

  Katie smiled.

  "What about Joanie and Rick?"

  "Joanie is helping my mom bake cookies. Ricky went on a date."

  "He went on a date? Isn't he only sixteen?" Katie asked.

  Cindy nodded.

  "He just got his driver's license. He's taking Carol to a movie."

  "Who's Carol?"

  "A girl," Cindy said.

  Ginny laughed.

  "Are they going to From Russia with Love?" Katie asked.

  "No. I don't think so. I think he's taking her to the drive-in."

  Ginny bit her lip. Grandma Cindy was the gift that kept giving.

  "That's too bad. I could have said hi. I'm going to the Phoenician tonight with a friend."

  A car horn sounded.

  "In fact that's him now," Katie said.

  Katie got up, grabbed a sweater off the back of her chair, and threw it on.

  "It was nice seeing you, Cindy. Tell your mom thanks for the cookies. We'll talk more the next time you're over. OK?"

  "OK."

  Katie smiled smugly at Ginny.

  "Don't wait up."

  Ginny laughed.

  "Why should I? You're just seeing a 'friend.' Remember?"

  Katie stuck out her tongue and left the kitchen. Seconds later she shut the front door of the apartment and then a door that was presumably attached to Mike Hayes' 1958 Impala.

  "Is she going out with her boyfriend?" Cindy asked.

  "She says he's just a friend, but I'm not so sure. There's really no such thing as a boy who's just a 'friend,'" Ginny said as she made quotation marks with her fingers.

  Cindy beamed.

  "You like that, huh?"

  Cindy nodded.

  Ginny warmed at the sight of the girl. She tried to remember what it was like when she was fourteen. It seemed like an eternity ago even though it was just five years past.

  "Do you have a boyfriend?" Ginny asked.

  "No," Cindy said a little too quickly.

  "Do you like any boy?"

  Cindy blushed.

  "I like one boy."

  "Just one?"

  The pink turned to red.

  "Just one."

  "I'm sorry for teasing. A pretty girl like you should have at least ten boyfriends," Ginny said. She smiled and looked at Cindy more thoughtfully. "One is all right too. What's his name?"

  "Bobby."

  "Does Bobby go to your school?"

  Cindy nodded.

  "He's in my math class."

  "Does he like you?"

  "I'm not sure. He looks at me all the time and smiles a lot, but he never talks to me."

  "Maybe he's just shy. Have you told him that you like him?"

  "No."

  "That's the problem. You have to tell him that you like him and do it as quickly as possible before he runs off with some girl named Bubbles or Amber – or Wendy."

  Cindy laughed.

  "We don't have any Bubbles or Ambers in our class."

  "What about Wendy?"

  "There's one in the school."

  "There you go. Just keep Bobby from Wendy and you'll be set for the summer."

  Cindy frowned.

  "There's one problem," Cindy said.

  "What's that?"

  "School gets out next week. I won't see Bobby again until next fall. He lives in Madison Park. That's four miles away."

  Ginny sighed. She could relate. She remembered falling hard for a classmate days before her freshman year had ended. By the time school had reopened in September, Brandon Barnes had moved with his family to Tulsa.

  As she took a moment to think of sage advice, Ginny pondered the beauty and the irony of the moment. She had not so long ago been asked to provide guidance on boys to her baby sister. Now here she was providing it to her future grandmother. Ginny had finally gotten her heart-to-heart with a teen named Cindy.

  "What about boys around here?" Ginny asked. "Are there any boys in the neighborhood you might like?"

  Cindy shook her head.

  "Are there any boys who like you?"

  Cindy started to shake her head again but stopped. Then she sank in her chair a bit and turned red once more.

  "That doesn't quite look like a no."

  "It's not."

  "I don't understand," Ginny said. "Is there or is there not a boy who likes you?"

  Cindy smiled sheepishly and sat up in her chair.

  "There is. There's a boy I met at church camp who likes me."

  "There is?"

  Cindy nodded.

  "When's church camp?" Ginny asked.

  "It depends. There's one in October and one in March and a big one in July. That's like a real camp. I go there for three weeks."

  "Do you think this boy will be there?"

  "I think so. He usually goes to all of them."

  "Is he nice?" Ginny asked.

  Cindy nodded again.

  "Is he nice-looking?"

  Cindy squirmed in her chair.

  "Uh-huh."

  "Then I think you should think about that boy and give Bobby a rest for the summer. What's the boy's name?"

  Ginny took a sip of her root beer.

  "Frank Smith," Cindy said.

  Ginny spit out her root beer.

  "I'm sorry," Ginny said. "Did I get any on you?"

  Cindy looked at her blouse.

  "No. I don't think so."

  Ginny grabbed a paper napkin from a metal rack. When she finished wiping up the mess on the table and the mess on her arm, she turned to face her visitor.

  "Did you say the boy's name was Frank Smith?"

  "Yeah. I think his real name is Francis, but no one calls him that."

  Ginny smiled and shook her head.

  "Is something wrong?" Cindy asked.

  Ginny laughed.

  "No. I think something is right. Cindy, I want you to listen to me."

  "OK."

  "I want you to forget about Bobby."

  Cindy returned a puzzled glance.

  "Why? You just told me to tell him I like him."

  "I did – five minutes ago. Now I want you to focus on Frank."

  "How come? You don't even know him."

  Ginny took a breath and tried to keep it together.

  "You're right, Cindy. I don't. But if he likes you, he has to be a great guy."

  "You think so?"

  "I know so."

  "Are you sure?"

  Ginny smiled.

  "Trust me."

  CHAPTER 38: GINNY

  Saturday, June 6, 1964

  If there was one thing Ginny Smith had learned in nineteen years, it was that teenagers liked to have a good time and that groups of teenagers liked to have a very good time. She pondered that fundamental truth as she beheld the good time in her living room.

  "I thought you said this would be a 'quiet little affair,'" Katie said.

  Ginny laughed.

  "I underestimated Randy and Greg," Ginny said. "I didn't think they would drink this much beer – or bring the Marvelettes."

  Ginny watched with amusement as Karen Young and Janet Bingham held out their hands, swayed, and serenaded Randy Templeton and Greg Reynolds with "Please Mr. Postman." For more than an hour, the four had all but taken over Unit A by drinking, dancing, and playing scratchy 45-rpm records on Karen's portable phonograph.

  James Green and Mike Hayes stood next to the twins in the open end of the living room, which had been converted into a dance hall by pushing furniture against the walls. James danced in place and interacted with Ginny but generally kept
to himself. Mike mostly observed. With a beer in one hand and Katie's fingers in another, he seemed content to watch others do their thing.

  "I just hope no one breaks anything," Katie said to her sister. "I don't want to face Virginia again – not after frying her toaster. Are you sure the neighbors are gone for the weekend?"

  "I'm positive," Ginny said. She raised her voice when the music got louder. "I talked to Mr. and Mrs. Baldwin this morning. They asked me to grab their mail today and pick up their paper tomorrow. They won't be back until Monday."

  Ginny thanked her lucky stars for that blessing. She had started planning the party right after speaking to the female resident of Unit B on Monday. Delores Baldwin had hinted that she and her retiree husband would probably visit relatives in Bellingham over the weekend.

  "What about the Jorgensons?" Katie asked. "Won't they notice the cars?"

  "Not now," Ginny said. "I asked the boys to move them farther down the street a little while ago, when you went to the bathroom. Unless someone throws a chair through our window, I think we'll be all right. You are officially free to misbehave."

  Katie laughed.

  "Good," Katie said. She turned to her date. "Michael, let's misbehave. I like this song."

  Katie led Mike to the middle of the hardwood floor, where Randy, Karen, Greg, and Janet danced to "Sugar Shack" by Jimmy Gilmer and the Fireballs.

  "Do you want to dance?" James asked.

  Ginny turned to her left.

  "You don't need me, James. You're doing a great job all by yourself."

  James smiled.

  "You noticed?"

  "Of course I noticed," Ginny said. "You're the only one in this room who actually knows how to dance. Randy and Greg are just scuffing up my floor."

  James laughed.

  "That's funny," he said. "You didn't answer my question though."

  Ginny put a hand on his arm.

  "I'll dance a little later. Right now I don't feel so hot."

  "Are you sick?" James asked.

  "I'm not sure. My stomach is doing flip-flops."

  Ginny put a hand on her abdomen. The queasiness she had felt since dinner was getting worse. She vowed never again to eat spicy chicken curry, at least the spicy chicken curry at the unauthentic Indian restaurant three blocks from Greer's.

  "Are you going to be all right?"

  "I think so. I just need a minute," Ginny said.

  Ginny took a moment to let her stomach settle and check in on the others. Randy and Greg raised bottles of beer as they danced the Twist with Karen and Janet. Mike and Katie tried to dance but gave up in a fit of laughter and retreated to a bowl of pretzels near the record player.

  "Do you want something to eat, James? There's more food in the kitchen," Ginny said. "I should have baked cookies or brownies. I've been a lousy hostess."

  "What do you mean? You've been a great hostess. You even waxed your floor so Randy and Greg could scuff it up. That's what I call thoughtful."

  Ginny smiled.

  "Katie gets the credit for that. She's the OCD half of this outfit. She mopped the floor this morning before we went to work."

  "What's OCD?" James asked.

  "It's nothing."

  Ginny glanced at James and saw he was still trying to figure out her slip of the day. She would have to exercise more caution in the future. She had told no one except Virginia about her time-traveling past and didn't want to invite more questions than necessary.

  Ginny shifted her attention to the back of the room. Karen and Janet went through a stack of 45s and finally found one they liked – or at least one that brought smiles to their faces. A few seconds after Karen dropped the record on the turntable, "Surfer Girl," a slow song by the Beach Boys, streamed out of the low-fidelity player.

  "Now, this is more my pace," Ginny said.

  "I thought you liked fast songs," James said.

  "I do. My upset stomach, though, likes slow songs," Ginny said. "Let's dance."

  Ginny guided James toward the center of the room, where three couples had already started to get cozy. When she saw Janet leave Greg for a few seconds to dim the lights, she knew that the party was slowly but surely heading in a different direction.

  Perhaps recognizing the awkwardness of the moment, James charted his own course. He put one hand in Ginny's and another on her waist and led her gracefully around the dance floor while maintaining a respectful distance.

  "Where did you learn to dance?" Ginny asked. "You're good."

  James chuckled.

  "My mom made me take ballroom dancing when I was twelve. She said she'd never let me date until I had all the 'social graces.' She actually said that."

  Ginny gazed at James and forced a smile.

  "Good for her," Ginny said. "She sounds like a nice woman. I'd like to meet her someday."

  James smiled softly.

  "I'll try to arrange that."

  Ginny nodded but didn't speak. She didn't want to open her mouth while her stomach was churning like Kilauea. So she focused on her footwork and tried to push her nausea away. She succeeded through "Surfer Girl," "So Much in Love" by the Tymes, and even "The End of the World" by Skeeter Davis." She didn't succeed through "Puff, the Magic Dragon."

  "James?"

  Ginny took a deep breath, wavered, and steadied herself by grabbing his arm.

  "Yes, Ginny?"

  "I'm …"

  "Are you OK?"

  Ginny started to answer but stopped when it became clear that the curry she'd downed at six would indeed arise at eleven. She put a hand to her stomach and gently pushed her partner away.

  "No. I'm not. I'm not going to make it."

  "Can I get you something?"

  Ginny shook her head.

  "No. Just stay.

  Ginny cringed as the pain in her abdomen became even more acute. She glanced quickly at the others, who appeared oblivious to her troubles, and then at James, who looked at her with obvious concern. What a time to get sick, she thought.

  "I have to go," she said.

  Ginny left James' side, covered her mouth, and ran through the hallway to a bathroom that Katie had cleaned that morning. She made it to her destination just before nature took a foul but predictable turn. The toilet seat, surprisingly, was flipped in an accommodating position.

  Thank God for boys.

  CHAPTER 39: GINNY

  Twenty minutes after humbly falling to her knees, Ginny rose to her feet, stood in front of a sink, and splashed her face with water. She didn't feel like running a marathon or even walking around the block, but she did feel better. She had purged the demons that had tormented her for hours and decided that she was finally ready to rejoin the living in the living room.

  After drying her face with a small towel, Ginny grabbed a glass on the counter, filled it with water, and cleared her mouth of any lingering reminders of a most unpleasant experience. When she was done, she returned the glass to its usual spot and took a moment to gaze at the girl in the mirror. Once again, memories, both good and bad, came flooding back.

  When Ginny stared at the image in the glass, she saw not herself or even Katie but rather her youngest sister. The boy talk with Cindy Jorgenson had reminded her of what she was missing at home. Somewhere, in a time zone far, far away, Cindy Smith was navigating her way through the minefield of middle school.

  Ginny hoped that she was still doing it on September 11, 2020. She wanted to believe that she would someday return to Cindy and the others as if she had never been gone, but she was no longer as confident of that outcome as she once was. She tried to keep the doubts at arm's length. Doubt was the last thing she needed now.

  Ginny gave the girl in the glass one last look, opened the door, and flipped off the bathroom light. When she reached the hallway, she noticed a change: Unit A of the duplex on Dalton Avenue had become darker and quieter in her absence. She proceeded slowly to the living room.

  When she arrived in the darkened room, she saw and heard several th
ings – things that left her amused and concerned. Three couples still enjoyed the party but in a different way. Randy and Karen locked lips and mauled each other in one lounge chair, while Greg and Janet did the same in the other. The girls had apparently given up on the music. The only sound from the phonograph was the drone of a needle hitting vinyl in an endless loop.

  Ginny found a less-amusing and more-concerning sight on the couch, where Katie and Mike gave new meaning to the word "friendship." She didn't even bother clearing her throat. She would need the Jaws of Life to separate the two.

  Ginny didn't think less of Katie for breaking her promise. She knew it was only a matter of time before her sweet, sensitive, introverted sister fell hard for the sweet, sensitive, introverted boy from the store. She just wished theirs was a story that did not have to end.

  She turned away and started toward the kitchen but didn't get more than halfway there when she ran into James, who had apparently used the idle time to grab a snack. He smiled sheepishly as he tried to hide a box of Girl Scout cookies behind his back.

  "Hi, James," Ginny said in a quiet voice.

  "Are you feeling better?"

  "I'm feeling much better," Ginny said. She smiled. "I see the others are feeling better too."

  James laughed.

  "They didn't waste any time either. They turned off the lights the minute you left. When they started up, I just headed for the kitchen. I may be a lot of things, but I'm not a Peeping Tom."

  Ginny covered her mouth to stifle a laugh. The last thing she wanted to do was interrupt the spring fling in the living room, though she gave serious thought to locking the bedrooms. There were some lines that would not be crossed at this party. She grabbed James' free hand, the one without the cookies, and pulled him toward the kitchen.

  "Let's get some fresh air," she said. "We may need it if we stay in here too long."

  Ginny guided James through the kitchen to the sliding glass door and finally outside to the low cedar deck, which extended about fifteen feet from the back of the residence. The air was warmer than she had expected but no less refreshing. Summer was clearly on the way.

  "Did you find enough to eat when I was gone?" Ginny asked. "I know you didn't have much of a dinner tonight."

  "I found all I needed. You can't beat these cookies," James said. He laughed as he held out the box. "I may have to buy you some more though. There aren't many left."