Time Echoes

by Bryan Davis

  Kelly arched her brow at the taller girl and spoke in an innocent tone. “I’m sure I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  Brittany let out a mock gasp. “You don’t? That’s not what Steven told me.”

  Speaking through clenched teeth, Kelly sharpened her voice. “No. I don’t.”

  Brittany touched a bejeweled heart pendant dangling from a necklace. “Well, I must say that I’m surprised. From what I understand, your mother took a few opportunities while your father was at away games. You could have learned a lot from her.”

  Her cheeks ablaze, Kelly raised a tight fist. “Listen, Brittany, you might be taller than me, but I swear, if you start — ”

  “Swear?” Brittany covered her mouth. “Nuns don’t swear, do they?”

  Kelly drew her head back. “Nuns? What are you talking about?”

  “I heard from Daryl that you changed.” Brittany’s eyes moved up and down, scanning Kelly’s clothes. “But I didn’t know you went Catholic school on us.”

  “Miss Tyler,” Mrs. Washington said, glaring at Brittany. “You may leave. You’ve already caused enough trouble for one morning.”

  A book slid from Brittany’s pile. She chirped a girlish “Oops” and kicked it toward me. As I squatted to pick it up, she bent way over to receive it, obviously flashing as much skin as she could.

  Averting my eyes, I handed her the book. “Here you go.”

  “Thank you, Kyle.” When she rose, she blew me a kiss and continued her strut toward the door. “I’ll have to tell Steven about your change, Kelly. He might want a new picture of you to add to the one taped inside his locker. You know which picture I’m talking about.”

  When she closed the door, Kelly balled both fists. “Acid-tongued … witch.”

  Mrs. Washington slid a sheet of paper toward me and nodded at Kelly. “Say whatever you want. My lips are sealed.”

  Kelly loosened her fingers. “If I said what I was thinking, the paint would peel.”

  “Well, someone needs to put that girl in her place.” Mrs. Washington tapped on the sheet. “You and Kyle are in every class together except last period. Kyle has orchestra during your PE class.” She laid two pink memo slips on the counter. “Here are your tardy passes.”

  Kelly snatched her pass. “Let’s go. Chemistry’s already started.”

  I picked up my schedule and pink slip and grabbed my pack and case. “Thank you, Mrs. Washington.”

  We quick-stepped through the empty halls, passing vertical banks of blue lockers on each side. Kelly halted at a locker and spun the combination dial. “No time to dump your stuff at your locker. We’ll find it after chemistry.” She opened the door and grabbed a textbook, then drew back, her eyes growing wider. “Are you sure you don’t hear anything?”

  I glanced around. “Just the fluorescent lights humming.”

  “That’s not it.” Her voice softened to a ghostly whisper. “A man groaning. Like he’s in pain.”

  I lifted my violin case. “Check it carefully this time.”

  She bent over and set her ear close to the case. After a few seconds, she shook her head. “It’s not coming from there.”

  “Look,” I said as I lowered the case, “I’m not doubting you, but if I can’t hear it, I can’t help you find it.”

  “I know.” She closed the locker door. “Let’s get going.”

  After marching halfway down another hall, we stopped at a classroom where a nameplate read Marshall Scott.

  Kelly reached for the doorknob and looked back at me, her face reddening. “I should have told you this earlier. Brittany mentioned Steven. He’s my old boyfriend from last school year, and he wants me back. He might not be too happy when he sees us together.”

  “Maybe he already knows.” I shrugged. “Wouldn’t Brittany have told him about me by now?”

  Kelly shook her head. “Brittany’s in math for morons this period. She couldn’t pass chemistry if her life depended on it.”

  After taking a deep breath, she opened the door. As we walked inside, I scanned the classroom from the teacher’s space on the left to the three rows of two-person worktables on the right. Every student looked at me. A couple of girls smiled, while everyone else turned their gazes back to their desks.

  Kelly extended her pink slip to a bespectacled, gray-haired man up front. “Mr. Scott,” she said, gesturing toward me, “this is Kyle. I’ve been assigned to show him the ropes around here.”

  I handed him my tardy slip and schedule. Using long, bony fingers, Mr. Scott opened a class roll book and scribbled down the information. “Welcome, Mr. Simmons.” His voice was nasally but not unfriendly. “I hope your previous school has introduced you to stoichiometry. Otherwise, you will find it difficult to catch up.”

  I took back the schedule and smiled. “Thanks. I think I’ll be okay.”

  “Very well.” Mr. Scott pointed his pencil at a boy at the front table near a window on the far end of the room. “Steven, please be kind enough to move to the empty spot next to Daryl so Kyle can sit with Kelly. They’ll have to share her textbook until I locate another one.”

  “Sure thing.” A shaggy-haired boy with a dark goatee rose to a staggering height, glaring at me as he shuffled past. “Cute violin case,” he mumbled.

  After I pushed my backpack and case under Steven’s old space on the left side of the table, I sat in a red metal chair. Kelly opened the chemistry book and slid it to the middle of our workspace. “I still hear it,” she whispered. She then cleared her throat to mask her comment.

  Mr. Scott poised a marker over a transparency sheet on an overhead projector. After rambling for several minutes about the importance of laboratory safety, he stopped and scanned the classroom. “Who can tell me the chemical formula for silver nitrate?”

  I glanced at Kelly, but she was busily writing something on a notepad and covering it with her hand.

  “Come now,” Mr. Scott continued. “This is review. We just did this equation on Friday.”

  I looked around the room. One boy yawned, a girl filed her nails, and most of the others just stared straight ahead. Finally, I raised my hand.

  “Yes, Kyle.”

  “Um … A G N O three.”

  “Excellent.” He wrote the symbols on the overhead. “Leave it to the student who wasn’t even here on Friday to know the answer.”

  I firmed my chin. The sarcastic tone in Mr. Scott’s voice was more than a little irritating. Besides, it wasn’t fair to level that charge against the whole class, especially Kelly. I lifted my hand again. “Excuse me, Mr. Scott, but Kelly wasn’t here either. She was helping me settle in at her house.”

  A deep voice piped up from behind us. “Yeah. I’ll bet she was.”

  As muffled snickers erupted around the room, Kelly ducked her head and covered her flaming ears.

  “Quiet!” Mr. Scott shot a menacing glare. When the murmuring subsided, he pointed his marker at Steven. “See me after class.” He then shifted the marker toward me. “Kyle, I realize you’re new here, but I must ask you to abide by my rules. You will not speak unless called upon.”

  I straightened in my seat. “Yessir.”

  “In any case, there is no need to defend Kelly. Her test scores will speak for themselves.”

  A few more snickers flittered about but faded quickly. Obviously I had already acted like an idiot, and it was only first period. This might prove to be a long day.

  Kelly raised her hand. Her entire face had turned red as a beet.

  Mr. Scott looked at her. “Yes, Kelly?”

  “I’m feeling sick.” She laid a hand on her stomach. “I have to go to the restroom.”

  He nodded toward the door. “Go ahead.”

  Keeping her gaze averted from me, Kelly tapped her notepad as she passed in front of our desk.

  I angled my head and read it. It’s coming from your backpack. Make an excuse to go to the restroom. Lie if you have to!

  While everyone watched Kelly shuffle toward
the door, I silently tore the top page from the pad and folded it in half. I then slid out the backpack and unzipped it in one motion.

  When the classroom door clapped shut, I withdrew the mirror, unwrapped it, and looked into its reflective side. My father hung suspended by chains against a stone wall, while another man, veiled in shadows, held a knife to a woman’s throat. Seated on the floor, the woman faced the wall, preventing me from seeing her clearly, but the dark locks streaming down her back gave away her identity — Mom.

  “Now,” Mr. Scott continued, “when we combined the silver with the nitric acid we created a reaction that produced a gas called what?”

  My hands shaking, I pulled the mirror closer and studied the hanging man, turning the surface away from the window to avoid the glare. Although Dad’s face was dirty and he appeared older than usual, there was no doubt about who he was.

  “Anyone?” Mr. Scott prodded.

  The image faded away, leaving only my worried face along with the wide eyes of a girl staring over my shoulder — Daryl.

  The mirror changed again. Although Mr. Scott had not moved from the projector, he appeared in the reflection, stumbling and falling hard to the floor between the front desk and mine. He lay motionless, blood oozing from his nose.

  Mr. Scott walked toward me. “Kyle, what are you doing?”

  I laid the mirror on the desk and lunged in front of Mr. Scott just as he tripped over a power cord. He fell on top of me, softening his landing.

  Someone slid a hand behind my head. “Are you all right?” she asked.

  In a daze, it took me a second or two to recognize her. “Yeah, Daryl. I’m fine.”

  While Mr. Scott got up and brushed off his pants, Daryl helped me to my feet and pointed at the mirror. “I saw you fall in the mirror before it happened.”

  “Nonsense, Daryl,” Mr. Scott said as he put his glasses back on. “Kyle obviously saw that the tape on the cord was loose and couldn’t warn me in time.” He patted me on the back. “I’m grateful for your quick action.”

  I stuffed the mirror into my pack and pulled the violin case out from under the desk. “I … I need to go to the restroom.” I slung the pack over my shoulder and backed toward the door. “That is, if you don’t mind.”

  Mr. Scott nodded. “Go ahead. And put that mirror in your locker. It’s too much of a distraction.”

  “Sure. No problem.” When I reached the door, I set a hand on the knob. “Which way to the restrooms?”

  “I’ll show him.” Daryl ran to the door. “Back in a minute.”

  She led the way down the hall, chattering rapid-fire. “That mirror thing is so cool. What is it, anyway? Sort of like a scenario predictor? The microprocessors must be super fast to analyze all the probabilities and display the most likely outcome in such high resolution. It was perfect video quality. I’ll bet the military would love to get their hands on it, or maybe stockbrokers and gamblers. Yeah, that’s it. Sports bookies would kill for a device like that.”

  She took a breath and turned a corner. “I want to learn virtual reality programming and apply it to holographic imaging. The video gaming industry would go nuts over it. Can you imagine physically walking through a shooter game where you can see your targets all around you without having to wear a bulky helmet? It would be Battlestar Galactica come to life.”

  “Wait.” I halted.

  “What?”

  I pointed at a recessed area in the wall. “The restrooms, right?”

  “Oh, yeah. Right.” Daryl blushed. “I got carried away.” She nodded toward the left side. “Men’s room that way.”

  “Yeah. I saw the sign.” I stepped into the alcove and paused in front of a two-tiered set of water fountains. “Thanks.”

  She crossed her arms and leaned back against a locker at the opposite side of the hall.

  “Daryl … I can make it from here.”

  “Oh. Right again.” She spun and hurried along the tiled floor, looking back once before turning into the adjacent hallway.

  Taking two long, quiet steps, I shifted over to the ladies’ side of the alcove and paused. There was no door to knock on. I gave the tiles at the side of the doorway a light rap with my knuckles, but it hardly made any sound at all. I leaned in and whispered, “Kelly?”

  No answer.

  I breathed a deep sigh. Maybe I had taken too long to leave the classroom. Maybe she had gone to the car. I spun to the men’s room and breezed inside. Might as well take care of business before searching for her.

  As I approached a urinal, a loud “Pssst” made me halt.

  “Nathan. Over here.”

  I leaned toward the bank of toilet stalls. “Kelly?”

  “Yes. Last stall.”

  I hustled to the back of the restroom and faced the closed door of the handicapped-access stall. “What are you doing here?”

  Her reply came in a sharp whisper. “Waiting for you.”

  “In the men’s room?”

  “Good guess, Mr. Obvious.” She pushed open the stall door. With her athletic shoes on the toilet seat, she squatted low. “I knew you wouldn’t set foot in the ladies’ room, and we need to talk privately.”

  I glanced at the entry door. “What if someone walks in?”

  She grabbed my sleeve, pulled me into the spacious stall, and closed the door. “If someone comes in, the only shoes they’ll see will be yours.”

  I set the violin case down and pulled the mirror from the backpack. “I saw who was moaning.”

  “Your father. I heard someone say his name, like he was being taunted.”

  “I guess right after my mother heard footsteps, someone captured them.” I extended the mirror to her. “I’ll try to activate a viewer. Can’t worry about cosmic holes.”

  She grasped the mirror with both hands. “Go for it.”

  I opened the case and set the violin under my chin. “I feel kind of strange playing in a bathroom stall.”

  “Definitely strange, but the echo effect will be awesome.”

  I raised the bow to the strings. “I think pianissimo is called for here.”

  “The softer the better.”

  I lifted my brow. “You knew what I meant?”

  “Five years of piano. My mother taught me.”

  “Nice. I’d like to hear you sometime.”

  While I played the first measures of “Brahms’ Lullaby,” we stared at the mirror. Within seconds the background darkened, framing our reflected faces with blackness. Soon, our images disappeared, and the darkness faded, giving rise to a dim stone wall, the same wall Dad had been hanging from, but now only four loose chains dangled from their attachment points.

  “He’s gone,” I whispered.

  “I think I hear voices. Try playing louder.”

  I increased the volume to mezzo piano, loud enough to create an echo in the porcelain-coated room.

  Mr. Scott’s voice blended in with the violin’s tones. “Kyle? Are you in here?”

  I stopped playing. “Yes.”

  Kelly scooted back on the toilet while I slid my feet into position in front of it and sat down.

  “The fall bloodied my nose,” Mr. Scott said, “so I thought I’d clean up and check on you at the same time. Now I see why you’re delayed.”

  I cleared my throat. “Thanks. I’ll be done soon.”

  “You must really be enamored with your violin to be practicing even in there. I usually read a magazine, but to each his own, I suppose.”

  “I guess so. Violin music really moves me.” I grimaced. What a stupid thing to say.

  Mr. Scott laughed. “That’s a good one.”

  Water splashed from a sink. “Kelly never came back to class,” he continued. “I called into the ladies’ room, but no one answered.”

  Sitting on the toes of Kelly’s shoes, I squirmed to get more comfortable. “I did, too. I don’t think she’s in there.”

  “I’ll send Daryl to look for her.” The towel machine whirred, and the sound of tearing foll
owed. “I’ll see you back in class.” A few seconds later, all was quiet.

  Kelly pushed me out of the way. “We have to get home,” she whispered. “Now.”

  “What did you hear?” I asked as I repacked the violin.

  With the mirror still in her grip, she stepped off the toilet lid. “I’ll tell you when we get out. The less talking we do, the better.”

  I nudged the stall door with an elbow, slid through the opening, and skulked to the entryway. After peering around the corner and finding no one around, I motioned for Kelly. “All clear.”

  “Wait.” She pushed the mirror into my backpack. “Okay. Let’s go.”

  We stepped out just as Daryl came into view in the hallway. Kelly ducked her head to take a drink from the water fountain.

  Daryl stopped. Her eyes darted back and forth between Kelly and me. “Well,” she said, a deep furrow in her brow, “this puts me in an awkward position. I could simply tell Mr. Scott that I found Kelly coming out of the restroom, which would be truthful, but it wouldn’t be a complete report. And this story would be the most delicious lunchtime gossip since Brittany and the band director.”

  Kelly rose from the fountain and hooked her arm around Daryl’s. “Listen, brainiac. Here’s your complete report. We have a mirror that sees into alternate worlds, and it gets activated by music. Nathan was playing the violin in the toilet stall while we watched for another world to appear. When he plays, I hear voices that tell me what’s going on. We experimented in there so we could do it in private and not scare the entire school.” She released Daryl’s arm and looked her in the eye. “Tell that to your gossip girls at lunchtime.”

  Daryl’s mouth dropped open. She took in a deep breath and let it out, stuttering, “I … I believe you.”

  “Good.” Kelly stalked down the hall, pulling me along.

  Daryl called out, “Aren’t you coming back to class?”

  Kelly turned and walked backwards. “We have to travel to another world to rescue his father.”

  “That is so Narnia!” Daryl folded her hands in a begging posture. “Can I come? I’ve never been on any kind of adventure!”