In the House of Mirrors

by Tim Meyer

  On his way back to the Moon Motel, the Master was quite talkative. Geoffrey was trying his best not to listen. Nothing good ever came from the Master's wishes and commands. Geoffrey never got what he wanted. Eyes and ears, that's all he was to the Master. Insignificant. The Master could always find more eyes and ears. There were plenty of both in this world. But Geoffrey was easy to control. Geoffrey did what he wanted.

  Most of the time.

  Recently, Geoffrey had been disobedient. He'd been able to block out all communication with the other world, especially from his Master. It was mostly due to a little tiny pill called Clozapine. The small football-shaped pill closed the portal to the other world, much to Geoffrey's surprise. The voices of the Elduronds had been minimal since taking the medication. Geoffrey knew he wasn't mentally ill. He knew he wasn't schizophrenic. He was just a portal. Geoffrey often debated whether the people who created Clozapine knew that their drug had the ability to sever the link between worlds. He almost sent the drug company a letter once, praising them on their discovery. Before he could mail it, however, he decided it was a letter only a crazy person would write, and it would undoubtedly earn him another trip to Benton.

  Geoffrey thought a lot about Benton. He'd been there enough over the years that it was practically a second home to him. Although, looking back on things, Geoffrey never really had a first home. His first home had been ruined by the untimely death of his mother. His father moved them because he “couldn't live in the same place she died.” So the old man quit (or got fired, Geoffrey never really knew for sure) his job, and moved around for a long time, before settling down in New Jersey. Geoffrey was in high school at the time. Some might say that's when Geoffrey started to fall off his rocker, but if you go back a little further, the evidence of his insanity started before that. When he was seven, Geoffrey Boone captured a squirrel in a cardboard box. The squirrel was only a little baby, lost and confused, separated from its mother. It did not run from Geoffrey. It glanced up at him, seeking guidance.

  Geoffrey brought his foot down on the innocent animal's head, squishing it like a piece of rotten fruit.

  After his mother passed, Geoffrey became too much for Carter to handle. Carter Boone was not blind to his son's erratic, and sometimes disturbing behavior. He chose to ignore the warning signs, thus making him every bit responsible for Geoffrey's behavior as Geoffrey. Maybe more so.

  But none of this concerned Geoffrey, because he was just a portal.

  2

  Geoffrey remembered the first time he saw his father conduct a black mass. It was when his mother was still alive, and before he left the Catholic Church. Carter Boone delivered the Eucharist to churchgoers on Sundays, and taught Catechism to Geoffrey and his friends on Tuesday nights. But on Saturday nights, he and his mother held “parties” in the basement of their home, “parties” which Geoffrey was not allowed to attend, nor was he to spy on. If he was caught trying to sneak a peek of what went on down there, Carter promised his son that his ass would be redder than his Radio Flyer.

  Of course, when Carter told his son what not to do, Geoffrey started thinking up ways to do it, and debated if it was worth a ferocious spanking, were he to be caught. Of course it was worth it, he deduced. He was damn curious! That, and an absent voice, one that did not need to rely on words to get what it wanted, beckoned him to infiltrate the basement one Saturday night. There was no inkling of doubt, there never really was, and this was perhaps what made Geoffrey Boone so dangerous to those around him. Geoffrey never saw an angel on his shoulder, always two devils.

  Geoffrey waited at the top of the stairs for almost an hour. He knew from previous weeks that the party wasn't going to go on much longer. He crept down the stairs when the group was the loudest, chanting in some language that Geoffrey had not learned in grade school, and never would. He was careful not to put too much pressure on the old wooden steps; they creaked loudly when he did that. One step at a time, he methodically descended toward the cellar floor. In a few short minutes, the cold of the concrete could be felt on the bottom of his bare feet. He hid behind an old painted hutch from the small group that had gathered before his father. The shadows helped shield him. The only light in the room came from a few wax candles resting on a small altar.

  The group continued their mantra. It appeared they were having a mass, like the one he always attended on Sundays, only different. Everyone wore robes. Black ones. There was a statue on the altar of a half-man, half-goat. It looked like...

  Geoffrey didn't want to think what it looked like.

  It looks like the Devil's work.

  It sure did.

  Geoffrey couldn't keep his eyes off the statue. He stared at it. The Goat-God stared back. The two of them were locked in a battle of who-blinked-first. The statue won. Still, Geoffrey did not look away. He did not take his eyes off of it until after the ceremony had reached its end. The finale concluded with something that would haunt Geoffrey for quite some time. He'd never forget it. He'd understand it when he got older, but vowed to never tell anybody.

  His mother stood before the crowd. She took off her robe and exposed her naked body. Some of the others did the same. Some of them were women, some of them were men. One of them was their neighbor, Mr. Howard. Another was his Catechism teacher from last year, Mrs. Blount. Mr. Howard and Mrs. Blount began to touch his mother in places he knew only his father was allowed to touch. It nauseated him. His mother didn't seem to mind. She smiled as they ran their fingers and hands up and down her body. His father joined in. They did some other disgusting things before Geoffrey couldn't take anymore and forced himself to look away.

  Carefully, using the shadows as a blanket, Geoffrey crept back up the stairs.

  Geoffrey wasn't careful enough. Although he didn't say anything right away, Carter Boone saw his son moving about in the shadows, trying to make his way up the stairs unnoticed. Instead of causing a scene, he kept on caressing his wife's body along with his friends.

  3

  A few days later, Carter came to visit Geoffrey in his son's room. Geoffrey was reading a comic book while snacking on some potato chips. Snacking on potato chips in bed was a big no-no in his mother's book, but Carter taught from different parenting literature than she did. Carter's pages were mostly blank.

  Geoffrey put the comic book down when his father asked him if there was anything that he'd like to tell him. This was a parenting technique where the child would get a chance to own up to his own mistakes, thus teaching them the valuable lesson of not lying. But Geoffrey knew if he told the truth, he'd catch a beating. His ass would resemble his toy wagon. If he lied, maybe he'd have half a chance of getting away with it. He'd have to be pretty convincing. Unless, his father already knew the truth, which Geoffrey assumed he did. So it didn't matter. Either way, his ass was going to look like an over-sized apple.

  “No,” was Geoffrey's response.

  “If you tell me the truth, it will be easier, I promise,” Carter said to his son. This was always the promise that was made to be broken.

  “I don't know what you want to me to tell you,” Geoffrey said, tears stinging his eyes.

  “all right then.”

  Carter took his son over his knee, and while Geoffrey was screaming, Carter took his belt to his bare ass, over and over again, until it bled.

  4

  Geoffrey hated his father for most of his life. Carter was wealthy, for unknown reasons he would never speak of. Geoffrey assumed it had something to do with his mother's unexpected demise. According to his father, the doctors killed his mother. When Geoffrey was old enough, he learned about malpractice lawsuits. Geoffrey assumed his father had won one, and that's where their income came from. It was the same income that helped Geoffrey stay in all those fancy facilities, the ones that gave him drugs like Clozapine. Drugs that helped close portals. It was also the same income that helped them buy the property in the middle of the woods. Geoffrey discovered it himself. Actually, another man discovered it, anothe
r man who had the same Master as Geoffrey. His name was Lyle, or Lester, or Lennehan. He wasn't sure. Names were hard to learn when there were so many others spoken in your head, over and over again, from morning until night. Anyway, this L character showed Geoffrey the land. On it, was a house. A decrepit, old, rundown house that was practically uninhabitable. The front door was boarded up. No grass grew out front, just a sea of dirt. Windows were smashed. The porch was covered in mold and mildew. The siding was falling off.

  It was a real fixer-upper.

  “We can fix it. It's perfect for our Saturday nights. Don't you think?” Geoffrey asked his father.

  The old man nodded. For the first time in a long time, perhaps ever, Carter agreed with his son.

  So they purchased the house and the property around it.

  The house. Or, the door, as L had put it. The house is the door.

  And the camera?

  The camera is the key, L had said.

  5

  Two years ago, L spent two full days in the Benton Mental Facility. Although his check in was voluntary, someone else had told him to. That someone was different than the voice who made Geoffrey run naked through a public park, telling him his clothes were infested with little bugs that had escaped through the portal. These little bugs supposedly would get into his clothes and cause a nasty infection, causing his penis to fall off. The two voices were different, but they served the same Master. The Master who told Marty Olberstad to pork Bernard Friedman's wife. The Master who told Danica Friedman to pork Marty Olberstad. After that, Marty and Danica porked each other on their own freewill. When Bernard found out about it, the Master hinted at the very good idea to butcher the both of them.

  All can see in the House of Mirrors.

  Aurelia burned down the house in the woods on her own freewill. She did this because of her hatred for Geoffrey Boone. But the Master had suggested she stay put and watch the house burn down from inside.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  “The house is the doorway,” L said.

  They were sitting in the common room, where all the other crazies wandered about, some of them banging their heads into the wall softly, others crying for no reason at all. The nurses were running around frantically, attending to the patients, feeding them their medications. Some laughed at the others while they went nuts, as if they weren't just as nuts themselves. It was around sundown, the time when—for some reason—everyone acted the weirdest.

  “The house is the doorway,” Geoffrey repeated.

  “And the camera is the key,” L said.

  “And the camera is the key,” Geoffrey repeated.

  “I have the key,” L told him. “I need someone to open the doorway. Someone with money. Someone like you.”

  “I'm sure I can convince my father. He's been looking for a place.”

  “Good,” L said, smiling in approval. Geoffrey had proved to be a faithful servant, just like Master said he would. L looked across the room. He spotted a kid, not much older than Geoffrey. He was alone, using his finger as a pencil to write something on the table. “What's his story?” L nodded to the kid.

  Geoffrey turned toward him. “Oh, that's Jackie, or Johnny, or Junie. Or Johnson. It might be Woodward. I don't know.”

  “Be friends with him. When the time comes, you'll know what to do. Understand?” L asked.

  He nodded. “The Master will guide me.”

  “That's right.” L looked up at the clock, as if his time at Benton had expired. “One more thing. If I'm not around—if I fail—there will be another to take my place. He might not be like me. He might not know what I know. He might not hear what I hear. The Master might not be able to communicate with him as he does you and I. But he will hold the key. Understand?”

  Geoffrey nodded once more.

  “Good. You'll probably have to kill him. Or someone close to him.” L shook his head. “Nevermind. You'll have to do whatever it takes to get the key to the doorway. You'll have to unlock the doorway. That is the Master's wishes. Understand?”

  Geoffrey nodded once more.

  “Remember. All can see—”

  “In the House of Mirrors,” Geoffrey finished for him.

  2

  The Master was right; Johnny Anderson was perfect.

  “We almost there?” Johnny said, as the two of them walked down a small path surrounded by the endless forest. Enormous conifers covered the blue sky above them. In the distance, Geoffrey could just barely make out their destination.

  “Five minutes.”

  “You said that five minutes ago,” Johnny huffed. He stopped to ignite another cigarette. Where he was going, he wasn't sure if they had any.

  After the five minutes passed, they reached the battered house. Johnny almost laughed. “This is it? This is your portal?” He took another drag from his cigarette, sucking it down to the filter, before stamping it out in the dirt.

  “It might not look like much on the outside,” Geoffrey told him, “but the inside is beautiful. Haven't you ever heard the expression never judge a book by its cover?”

  It had been a long time since Johnny read a book, but he knew the expression well. “They're gonna come looking for me.” He was referring to the psychiatric hospital he had just escaped from. “If they haven't started already.”

  “They have,” Geoffrey said. “That mighty-fine looking sister of yours is leading the hunt. What was her name, Amelia? Ophelia? Aurelia? Indonesia?” Geoffrey asked. Johnny told him which one it was, but it wouldn't matter. He'd forget it anyway. He wouldn't remember her name when he saw her again, almost two years later, when she started attending her father's masses. He'd forget who she was completely. She'd be another pretty face that looked vaguely familiar. Very vague. He'll think she was a nurse at Benton at one point in time, or someone who served him coffee at the donut shop down the street. Maybe someone he used to pal around with during his childhood.

  Geoffrey walked with Johnny up the porch. The front door had a single two-by-four barricading the entry. The other three had already been pried off and set aside. Geoffrey picked up the crowbar and started to go to work on the last one. It took him several minutes, but he was able to jar the thing loose. He did the other side of the door the same way, and tossed the two-by-four behind them. Geoffrey turned the knob, and pushed the door open. They peaked their heads in, careful not to break the plane of the doorway with their feet.

  “Full of mirrors,” Johnny said. “Just like you said.”

  “I wasn't lying to you, sugartits,” Geoffrey said.

  “So...” Johnny said, “what are we waiting for. Let's go in. Let's get out of this world.”

  “Yeah... about that,” Geoffrey said. “I'm not going with you.”

  Johnny's face wrinkled. “What are you talking about?” He shook his head. “No, you said you were coming with me. I ain't going in that place alone.”

  “Uh, I said I'd take you here,” Geoffrey said. “Which I did.”

  Johnny shook his head again, this time furiously. “No. Fuck this—”

  He did not get to finish that sentence. A cold feeling entered his skull. Pain rushed the back of his neck and down his spine. He lost focus, and his footing, and he fell on the porch. The world around him faded to black. He wouldn't find out that his head was bleeding until he woke up several hours later. The wound would require stitches.

  Where he was going, there were no stitches. Only the Elduronds.

  Geoffrey Boone cleaned Johnny's blood off of the crowbar and buried it deep in the woods after he placed his buddy's seemingly lifeless body inside the entrance. He was still unconscious, and would remain so considering how hard Boone had clocked him. When he awoke, he found himself within the House of Mirrors.

  He never came out.

  3

  You've done well, Master said.

  “Thank you, Master,” Geoffrey said. He was standing before the house now, long after Johnny Anderson had gotten lost inside, vanishing forever.

 
I need more.

  “Oh, I already have a plan for that. Don't worry, Master.”

  Good. Don't keep me waiting.

  “Never, Master.”

  Before Boone left the house that day, he swore he saw an old man looking down at him from a window on the second floor. He swore he saw a giant claw pulling the curtains apart.

  4

  There was a huge argument with his father. Carter had the House of Mirrors demolished so they could start new construction, a house with a church connected to it. That way they could live there and have their “parties” and be far away from people who did not understand their beliefs. Geoffrey was furious, because Master was going to be furious. If Master was furious, he didn't let Geoffrey know it. Carter disciplined his son by sending him back to Benton, because he simply didn't know what else to do with him. He didn't want the little shit ruining his parties. They were more important to him than his own seed.

  This time around, they gave him Clozapine. This helped take away the voices. Especially Master's. There were no orders from him the whole time Geoffrey took his medication.

  When Geoffrey got out, things changed. His father had rebuilt the house in the woods. Geoffrey felt lost, although he had never seen his father so happy. There were no more voices, as long as he took his medicine. Eventually, he tried to track down L, but because he didn't know his name, or his address, or where he worked, he couldn't locate him. Geoffrey assumed if L needed to be in touch, then L would get in touch. When L didn't get in touch, Geoffrey thought maybe L was just a hallucination, and that maybe he really was crazy. But then how could he explain Johnny Anderson and the day he fed him to the House of Mirrors?

  Unless Johnny Anderson was a hallucination too.