The Mirror (Northwest Passage Book 5)

by John A. Heldt

  "Is Bernice excited about going to high school?" Ginny asked.

  "Yeah. She's excited," James said. "She's so excited she can't even wait till next month. She told me today that she wants to start school tomorrow. Tomorrow! What kind of nutty kid wants to start school in August?"

  "Have you met my sister, James?"

  James laughed and nearly spilled his drink. Mike chuckled and shook his head. Katie did none of those things. She instead acknowledged the latest salvo in the Zinger War with a smile.

  "I guess I stepped in it, didn't I?" James asked.

  "You did, but you meant well," Ginny said. "I think Bernice has the right attitude. So do Cindy and Katie. Kids should want to go to school, even in August. Be sure to tell Bernice to get involved in a lot of activities. She'll have a lot of fun in high school if she does."

  "I'll do that," James said. "I'll do it tomorrow."

  Ginny felt a little hypocritical about needling Katie. She had enjoyed high school as much as anyone and could remember at least one year when she had wanted to get an early start on the books. She could also remember a day not so long ago when she had looked forward to getting an early start on college. She could only hope that the chance to do so still waited.

  Ginny thought about that chance and a few other things as Mike collected a pile of pennies. When he did so again a few minutes later, she looked at the clock on the wall and then at the other players at the table.

  "I'm good for one more hand," Ginny said. "I want to cap my losses at two dollars. If I lose much more I'll have to dip into my ice cream money."

  "We could always play blackjack," Mike said.

  "No, thanks. Katie knows how to count cards."

  Katie smiled but remained silent.

  "How about we play until you win again?"

  "That's happened five times tonight, Mike. Do you think I'm about to get lucky?"

  "I don't know," Mike said. "Should I ask James?"

  Mike and Katie laughed.

  Ginny blushed. Oh, what a night this had turned out to be. She looked to James for relief but didn't find it. He had buried his face in his hands.

  "All right. All right. Enough of the zingers," Ginny said. "I'm tired and starting to get a little punchy. If you want to play until I win, I'll play until I win. I don't know why you want to stay up another two hours, but I'll play until I win."

  "Thanks, Ginny. You're a good sport," Mike said.

  Ginny watched Michael shuffle the deck and give James a knowing smile. She didn't know what they were up to, but at eleven o'clock she didn't much care. If they wanted to cheat her out of her remaining pile of pennies, she wouldn't try to stop them.

  As Mike dealt the next hand, Ginny took a moment to study the faces at the table. She was pleased and surprised to see that smiles outnumbered frowns. If she remembered nothing else about this night, she would remember that four people facing a variety of challenges had put aside their troubles to have some old-fashioned fun.

  When she finished assessing the people who had conspired to make her poor, Ginny grabbed her cards, looked them over, and saw the poker equivalent of a winning lottery ticket. Satisfied that even Mike couldn't top this hand, she brought the cards together and tucked them away. She pushed her remaining assets to the middle of the table and smiled at the ruthless opposition.

  "You seem rather satisfied, Gin," Katie said. "Did Santa bring you a flush?"

  "It's none of your business what I have."

  "Oh."

  Mike and James laughed.

  Ginny watched closely as Katie exchanged two cards, James one, and Mike two. She watched even more intently as James and Mike matched her ante and exchanged smiles, making Ginny wonder if it were actually possible to lose with a royal flush.

  The fear lasted only a few seconds. When Ginny saw Katie throw down a trio of queens, James a pair of fours and a pair of eights, and Mike a full house, she knew she would at least go to bed with a smile on her face.

  "I guess I didn't have to wait long for redemption," Ginny said. She threw down her cards. "I take personal checks, boys, in case you run out of pennies."

  "Hold your horses, Ginny," Mike said. "I think James has you beat."

  "No, he doesn't. Nothing beats a royal flush."

  "That's not always true."

  Ginny turned to Katie.

  "Can I have some backup here?" Ginny asked.

  Katie acknowledged Ginny with a nod and then stared at Mike.

  "Michael, she won."

  Katie turned to James.

  "James, pay up."

  "Are you sure you want me to, Katie?" James asked. "I think I've got a winning hand."

  "You've got two fours and two eights, James," Ginny said. "That won't get you a bus ticket to Tukwila."

  James laughed.

  "No, it won't. But my special hand will."

  "Your 'special' hand?" Ginny asked.

  "That's right."

  "There's nothing more 'special' than a royal flush, James."

  "Oh, yes there is," James said.

  Mike grinned.

  James leaned forward, reached into his back pocket, and pulled out something Ginny couldn't see. A few seconds later, he gently placed four tickets on the table.

  "This is my special hand, ladies," James said. "I call it John, Paul, George, and Ringo."

  Ginny dropped her jaw and stared at her twin. Katie dropped her jaw and stared back. They couldn't speak. They couldn't move. They couldn't do anything but smile and scream.

  CHAPTER 66: GINNY

  Wednesday, August 19, 1964

  Ginny spread out the eight-by-tens on Nana's dining table and admired her handiwork.

  "These turned out pretty good," Ginny said. "I'm surprised."

  "I'm not," Virginia said. "Like I said before, you have serious talent."

  Ginny pulled one of the photographs forward and gave it closer scrutiny. The picture of the old man with a pipe looked like a museum piece.

  "I really like this one."

  "I do too," Virginia said. "So do our photo editor and our news editor. That's why we're running it on the front page of the paper this Sunday."

  "You're running this on the front page?"

  Virginia nodded.

  "We're also running three more pictures in the features section. You did good work. You got more out of four rolls of film than some photographers get out of ten. If you weren't planning to leave us, I would recommend you for a position at the Sun."

  Ginny took a moment to consider the comment, which left her happy, sad, and relieved. She was happy she had delivered the goods, sad she would never work at the Sun, and relieved she hadn't submitted the fifth roll of film. She doubted that photos of lovers behaving badly would have played as well as pictures of men smoking pipes and boys holding balloons.

  "You are still planning to leave us, are you not?" Virginia asked.

  The statement brought Ginny out of a daze.

  "I am," Ginny said, "unless the fair's organizers scrap their plans to bring back the House of Mirrors and the big oval mirror. I expect Katie and I will go to Maple Valley as soon as the fair opens. We don't want to push our luck by waiting too long."

  "That's understandable. Did you say the fair was next month?"

  Ginny nodded.

  "It runs the sixth through the twelfth."

  Virginia smiled sadly.

  "That's less than three weeks away. I'm going to miss you. I'm going to miss both of you."

  "We're going to miss you too, Nana. That will be the hard part of leaving. Katie and I have made friends here – good friends. It's not fair we can't take you with us."

  Virginia laughed.

  "Don't be so sure I won't come with you. Sometimes I look at the world around me and want to escape. I imagine your world is a far better place."

  "It is in some ways," Ginny said. "We have a lot of gadgets that make life easier. We also look at things differently. People in 2020 are generally more tolerant. They
don't get as worked up over differences as people here."

  "Are there things you like better about this time?"

  Ginny nodded.

  "There are a lot of things. You may find this hard to believe, but I actually like 1964 better. I like the slower pace and the fact that people here actually talk to each other. They care about important issues. They have more optimism and less cynicism," Ginny said. She smiled. "I also like the hairstyles."

  Virginia laughed.

  "Now I've heard everything. I figured that would be the one thing you didn't like. I thought you would be like Katie. She told me last week that she doesn't like beehives."

  "She doesn't. She thinks beehives should be outlawed along with hair spray. Katie really hates hair spray. She thinks it's a chemical weapon that should be banned by the UN."

  Virginia smiled.

  "I can't say I blame her," Virginia said. "I'm not a fan of it either, though I admit it's pretty useful in removing lipstick from fabric and keeping dust off of drapes."

  Ginny began to say that hair spray was also useful in killing flies, reducing runs in pantyhose, and extending the life of cut flowers, but she stopped when Cindy entered the room. She paused to look at her teenage granny, who wore a crisp white blouse, a short pink skirt, and a smile the size of South Dakota.

  "Wow!" Ginny said.

  "Do you like it?" Cindy asked.

  "I love it. You look like a sophomore or a junior."

  "It's what I'm wearing the first day of school."

  "Do you have a baseball bat to go with it?" Ginny asked.

  Cindy looked at Ginny with puzzled eyes.

  "No."

  "Then you'd better get one. You're going to need one to keep the boys away."

  Cindy smiled and blushed.

  "She's right, dear," Virginia said. "Has your father seen that outfit?"

  "No."

  "I was afraid of that. We may have to keep him in the dark for a while. I'm not sure he'll react as favorably to your attire as Ginny."

  "Do I have to change now?" Cindy asked.

  "No. Just be sure to find something else to wear before your father gets home."

  "OK. I will."

  Ginny laughed to herself as she took a second look at Cynthia Jorgenson. This is what she loved about 1964. This is what she would miss. Kids in the early sixties got excited about things like knee-length skirts and Harry the Hugger. They still blushed. They had not yet succumbed to the cynicism that would define later generations.

  "Was there something else you wanted to show us?" Virginia asked.

  "No," Cindy said. "I just wanted to thank Ginny again for the ticket."

  "You're welcome. You're so welcome."

  "Do you know who else is going?" Cindy asked.

  Ginny nodded.

  "There will be six of us: you, me, Katie, Mike, James, and James' sister Bernice. She's going to be a freshman at Westlake too. I think you two will hit it off."

  "I hope so," Cindy said.

  "I'm still at a loss as to how your friend obtained six tickets," Virginia said. "The Sun had difficulty getting four media passes."

  "James apparently asked his dad to make some calls to people he's done business with over the years. When he found one with tickets he didn't plan to use, he bought them right away at double the face value."

  "Do we owe you any money?" Virginia asked.

  "No," Ginny said. "This is my treat. I wouldn't have it any other way."

  "Well, thank you. I'm not a fan of the Beatles, but I know how important this concert is to youngsters. I wouldn't want Cindy to miss this any more than I'd want Rick to miss a game at the World Series or Joanie a trip to Disneyland. I think everyone should have a chance to see the world on a big stage at least once."

  "When are we leaving?" Cindy asked.

  "We'll leave about six," Ginny said. "The warm-up bands don't start until eight, but we want to get there early to find a parking spot."

  "I'm kind of surprised that the four of you were able to get off work," Virginia said. "I know how busy Greer's can be on a Friday."

  "I thought it might be a problem too, but it wasn't. When we asked for the night off, Mr. Greer gave us the whole day."

  "Is that right?"

  Ginny nodded.

  "He doesn't expect to have any customers."

  Ginny smiled.

  "He said the Beatles are going to turn Seattle into a ghost town."

  CHAPTER 67: GINNY

  Thursday, August 20, 1964

  "What do you think you're doing?" James asked.

  Ginny tightened her hold on James Green's hand and led him down Aisle 12 to the employee area and an emergency exit staff used in emergencies such as this. She slowed down only to look over her shoulder and flash a smile.

  "I'm taking you to a place where we can make out and not get fired."

  James laughed.

  "Oh, Lord."

  Seeing little resistance to her spontaneous affection offensive, Ginny guided the reluctant courtesy clerk through the staff door to the loading zone in back. From there she pulled him across the street to the park and a big-leaf maple tree that provided a modicum of privacy.

  "You know something? You're crazy," James said.

  Ginny smiled.

  "I am. I'm very crazy. Deal with it."

  She threw her arms over James' shoulders and gave him a long, soft kiss. When he finally gave up all resistance, she kissed him again.

  "What if Mr. Greer comes out here?" James asked. "He likes to smoke in the park. I've seen him."

  "If he does, I'll kiss him too."

  James laughed again.

  "You're out of control, girl. I may have to cool you off."

  Ginny raised an eyebrow.

  "Do you really want to do that?"

  James sighed and shook his head.

  "No. I guess not. I may be late for my shift, but I'm not stupid."

  Ginny smiled.

  "I didn't think so. I'll only keep you a few minutes."

  "What's gotten into you, anyway?" James asked.

  "I'm just in a good mood. I've been in a good mood ever since you threw those tickets on the table. That was so sweet, James. I can't even begin to tell you how much that meant," Ginny said. She kissed him lightly on the lips. "Thank you."

  "You're very welcome."

  "Cindy says thanks too."

  "I'm just glad she can go," James said. "I was sure Theresa was going to take that ticket. I was sure of it. Who passes up the Beatles? That's like passing up Chubby Checker. She's already having boyfriend remorse."

  Ginny laughed at the comparison but conceded that James had a point. She couldn't believe that Theresa Green had given up a chance to see the world's most popular band. When she told her father that she planned instead to attend a blues show with her boyfriend, Marvin Green gave the ticket to James, who in turn gave it to Cindy. She was the only person he considered.

  Ginny gazed at James for a moment and sighed.

  "I'm having boyfriend remorse too."

  "How's that?"

  "I'm remorseful that I let three months go by without seeing more of you."

  "Oh, jeez, there you go again."

  "I'm serious, James. That's going to be my greatest regret when I leave."

  "You're still planning to go?"

  Ginny nodded.

  "We have to. It's not working out financially. We're going to leave in three weeks but not before you and I have some serious fun. We're going to spend every day together until then. OK?

  "I'm all right with that," James said.

  "I thought you would be."

  Ginny pulled her arms from his shoulders and put her hands in his.

  "I'd better let you go back in before Mr. Greer really does come out here."

  James smiled and nodded.

  "Yeah. I guess you'd better."

  This time James took the lead and gave Ginny a soft kiss.

  "I'll see you later tonight," he said.
<
br />   "Count on it."

  Ginny watched him cross the street and walk along the side of the grocery store toward the front of the building. When James turned the corner and disappeared from sight, Ginny collected herself and started walking toward the bus stop on Forty-Fifth. She made it halfway down the block when she saw a blond water-polo player step out of a Corvette parked along the curb.

  "Steve? What are you doing here?"

  "I've got a better question, Ginny. What are you doing with him?"

  "I don't have to answer that."

  "Sure you do," Steve said. "You told me to my face you weren't seeing another guy. You lied to me, Ginny. You lied twice."

  Ginny simmered as she considered the accusation. Yes, she had lied. She'd lied through her teeth because she thought it would be the best way to leave the life of Steve Carrington. She realized now that it had been a big mistake. She should have been honest from the beginning and told him to take a hike.

  "I did," Ginny said. "I'm sorry. Now please get out of my way."

  Steve grabbed her arm as she tried to pass him on the sidewalk.

  "That's not good enough, Ginny. I want to know why."

  "Why what? Why I prefer someone like James over someone like you? Figure it out, Steve."

  "What does he have that I don't?"

  Ginny huffed and looked away. She wanted to let him have it. She wanted to stick him with a verbal knife and twist it twice, but she couldn't think of the words. So she answered his question directly and bluntly.

  "I'll tell you what he has," Ginny said. "He has class. He's kind and thoughtful and humble. He also has a great sense of humor and a family I like. Is that enough for you?"

  "So what are you saying? Are you saying it's over?"

  "Yes, counselor. It's over. You lost your case. Now move!"

  Ginny stepped forward. When Steve grabbed her arm again, she shook it off and took a few more steps. When he demanded that she come back, she ignored him. She walked down the sidewalk as fast as she could toward the intersection and a bus stop that was calling her name.

  She was done with this unpleasantness. She was done with all of it. All she wanted to do now was put the past behind her, grab what enjoyment she could, and walk – no, run – to the world she called home.