Through the Mirror

by D C Tullis

“So you obviously know how my mom died.”

  “I was at the funeral, Jason,” she responded. “Carbon monoxide poisoning, right?”

  “Yeah, well... it kind of fucked everything up for us. Dad became depressive, drinking nightly too. He became completely withdrawn. That was when my brother Ben also started becoming really secretive. He would go out late and always coming back at the strangest times. Even with all of that, we somehow pulled our dad back from the edge.” I slowly exhaled. “By some god given luck, Dad actually started to act normal again. He began working again, talking with his friends from the port, and he even bonded a bit with Maxence who he’d never been all too fond of. After a while, things almost started looking up.”

  “And then Ben disappeared, right?” Ellie added.

  I lowered myself down onto the sidewalk and nodded limply.

  “That’s when it truly went to shit. Ben just up and disappeared. No note, nothing! Dad, well, he couldn’t take it. Complete mental breakdown when he found out. I found him just sitting next to an empty bottle of scotch. He was desperately mumbling some scatterbrained nonsense.”

  Ellie put her hand on my shoulder comfortingly.

  “That’s when we had to put him up at Tharkham. We’re still renting out the house to one of Dad’s friends, Thomas. I still keep a bit of hope that Dad will snap out of whatever’s affecting him, but it’s been almost two years now.”

  I picked up a pebble from the sidewalk and chucked it at a fire hydrant. I felt ashamed and kind of weak for spilling all of this out to Ellie, but it was better to get it all out. I didn’t like being this emotional.

  “I used to visit him, but it became too depressing. He hardly ever spoke or ate. He just kind of sat there staring blankly through the window of his room like he had given up on life yet somehow his body continued to run on autopilot. And that’s the wonderful story of how I ended up with Maxence. At least it’s not all bad. He’s got a big kitchen, and he doesn’t care if I wake him at 2:30 in the morning with my guitar practice.”

  I tried to end the story on a lighter note to diffuse the tension. It didn’t work. Instead, I just felt sort of hollow, like an empty matryoshka doll.

  At that exact moment, Ellie wrapped her arms around me and gave me the warmest hug that I’d received in a very long time. And for just a moment, under that calm and starless expanse, I felt a little more alive. We sat there for a bit. I don’t know how long it was. Maybe a half hour, or maybe more. It didn’t matter because I didn’t want it to end - ever.

  Eventually she let up, and we just sat there looking up at the now completely blackened night sky and chucking pebbles at random objects. The streetlights had come to life by this time and they flickered animatedly amongst the shadowy streets of Eastmouth. There were a few teenagers, a couple, and one dog-walker who we saw that night walking around down in the The Burns, but they ignored us.

  The temperature gradually began to wane around us. It was a chillier night than either of us had expected, and the ocean’s merciless cold was in full effect. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Ellie shiver slightly, so I removed my leather jacket and placed it around her shoulders.

  “I have to go visit my dad,” I said as I rose to my feet. “I’ll see you later. Message me or something.”

  “I’m coming with you,” she demanded petulantly.

  “You really want too?” I replied as I moved towards my bike. “I don’t want you to come out if it’s because you feel sorry for me.”

  “Oh, fuck off, Jason,” she said chasing after me. “I’ve been your friend since first grade. I’m damn sure that I’m coming with you.”

  She had closed the distance as I tinkered with my bike chain. I looked at her in silence as the frigid winds tussled our hair and as the evening mist began to gently crawl in from the sea. I didn’t really want her to come along, but it would just be childish for me to resist any further.

  “Whatever. You can come along,” I mumbled under my breath.

  I didn’t think she’d heard me at first, but then she reached out and gently flicked my forehead with her thumb and middle finger. It was something she hadn’t done since we were in middle school.

  “Geeze, J, sometimes you’re a real idiot,” she said, her smile warming me far more than my jacket.

  Another gust of icy port wind blew past us and reminded me of what I had to do. I turned away and got onto my bike.

  “Come on,” I said as I watched her get on her bike too. We kicked off together.

  That night we rode far away from The Burns. Far away from the schools, and far away from my house. We headed towards the edge of town where Tharkham sat. And on that whole ride, we never once said a word. We didn’t need to.

  ✽✽✽

  Tharkham Mental Asylum sat at what might be considered the southwestern border of Eastmouth. We rode for 15 minutes and arrived at around 9:45 P.M., late but with enough time to secure a visit before the eleven o’clock cutoff. It was actually rather strange that the asylum remained open so late, but then again, nothing about the asylum wasn’t strange.

  The building itself was a mountainous fortress weighing in at about four stories tall. I believe it was another remnant of the Victorian Age that still lingered, a ghostly reminder of a bygone era. This was in part due to its aesthetic. Soaring towers speared into the gloom above, decaying gainsboro-gray brick walls leaked an otherworldly sense of isolation and depression, and spiky black fences guarded the perimeter from any unwanted intruders or realistically, unwanted escapees. Beyond the appearance, it had always been a mystery to me as to why such a small town required an asylum. It belonged to more than just Eastmouth admittedly as it housed patients from the neighboring towns, yet even then it was still an oddity.

  My father had been housed here since the winter of my sophomore year. It had never been a pleasant experience visiting him here.

  The receptionist had tossed me a friendly smile when we entered. I had visited nearly every week for the first six months, so they knew who I was. I was lucky to find my father wasn’t busy in some form of group activity or entertainment. Because of this luck we were allowed right in. As we moved to the gate, they required we empty our pockets and be patted down. Soon after we were accompanied by a nurse who guided us to a waiting room on the third floor, his floor. Ellie and I made brief small talk while we waited for him to be wheeled into the worn, and, oh so clichéd, bone-white walled space. The atmosphere couldn’t have been more dismal had they tried. After waiting just long enough for the atmosphere of the asylum to start getting underneath my skin, an elderly nurse who smelled of butterscotch candies and hydrogen peroxide wheeled in my father. It was certainly a shock after not seeing him in over six months, but he didn’t look bitter. I don’t think I had seen a more overjoyed man in my life. This was a violent contrast to the state he had been when he had been institutionalized.

  The nurse waved to me as she forced his chair to a halt. “I’ll be out in the hall if you need anything, honey.”

  “Thank you,” I replied as she moved to shut the door.

  “J-jason… it’s so good to see you. And you brought Emmie along with you.”

  “Ellie,” I replied. “And yeah, you too dad. How have you been holding up?”

  “I’ve been better. I really don’t like this place, or these people, but what can I do…” He laughed weakly. It was a painful sound to hear, like watching footage from Normandy beach in history class. Watching all those young men scared out of their minds, forced to charge into a slaughter.

  “The one thing I really miss is your mother, Jason.”

  I felt a knot emerge in my throat as I heard this. I had already felt enough repressed emotions for one evening.

  “So gorgeous, and so damn kind. You remember how we met, right Jason?”

  Of course I did. He had told me the story near every time I visited him at the asylum, but I felt it necessary to humor him, so I did.

  “Yeah, but you can tell it to me again?” I
replied to him.

  His eyes lit up as he heard this.

  “I had just gotten off of the ship I was helping out on. Had to make ends meet somehow. I… I had gotten off,” he said.

  He looked as if he was trying to piece together a puzzle he had once known so well.

  “I had gotten off… and went down to the diner with some of the crew. It was there I saw her. She was a new waitress, and by god she was beautiful. I was damn near stunned. The second I saw her I knew I had to approach her. All it took was a little bit of sailor’s charm, and a swig or two of liquid luck,” he winked as he said this. “I talked to her long past the time the rest of the crew had left because I couldn’t will myself to leave. I was in heaven for a moment. Eventually, Donnie, the manager of the joint, got so mad he nearly fired her on the spot, so I slipped him a twenty, and he shut up pretty quickly. And then when it finally came time to close, I asked her out to see a movie later on. She accepted right on the spot. I was like a puppy in love.”

  I sort of cringed at the line, but regarding the situation I almost felt bad doing so.

  “After that we were inseparable. We married and had your brother and then you.” He almost stammered for a second before continuing, “Did Ben ever give you a call or anything?”

  “No. Still nothing,” I solemnly shook my head. I gritted my teeth at the thought. It was still boggling at why Ben would just leave. No note, no call, absolutely nothing. I returned my gaze to my father.

  “Are you feeling better?” I finally asked.

  “A little, but please don’t talk about me. I want to know how you’ve been,” he said.

  “J, you should totally tell him about your discovery,” Ellie added.

  “Yeah, yeah okay,” I nodded. “Yesterday in Uncle Maxence’s house I found something totally rad while cleaning out the second floor.”

  “What? Some sort of crazy sci-fi gadget, or supercomputer, or something,” he mused. “Max was always into that stuff. I could never talk to him about it because he’d just talk circles around me.”

  “No. A secret room.”

  “Seriously? What was in it,” he asked. A sense of genuine interest lingered in his voice.

  “Let me give you the details first. So, it was in this room which looked to have been abandoned since the 60’s or something. I was unpacking the room until I tripped on some kind of gizmo and collided into a stack of boxes,” I replied with a sheepish grin. “At first I was worried I had broken something of his until I realized what I had actually done. The wall overshadowed by the boxes was just brittle drywall. The next second I know, I’m face to the face with this hidden room about the size of a large walk-in closet.”

  “So it was just some forgotten room?” he asked me.

  “Sort of… the only other thing in the room was this massive mirror. It was taller than me. Hell, it must’ve been even taller than Maxence.”

  “That’s crazy, Jason. Max was always an odd one. Always tinkering around with computers and gadgets. Wouldn’t surprise me if there were some other hidden things around the house. It’s a really old house too. Your mother and I were planning to move into it once you and Ben had… well…,” he said.

  “Yeah. I think I’m going to spend some time examining the house,” I declared.

  “Is Ben going to help you out or is he gonna run off, shirking his duties again? That boy is so absent minded. Always wandering off to draw and explore. He never wanted to learn boxing or do little league either.”

  “Dad?” I asked him, a wave of confusion hitting me. “Ben’s gone remember?”

  The color from my father’s face began to drain.

  “Jason… be honest with me right now. Where’s your brother? Are you hiding him again? It’s almost lunch time,” he said with a grin.

  I shot Ellie a worried glance. This had happened the last time I’d visited him too. Some line or phrase that I would say would just trigger him and he’d lose touch with reality.

  “These damned people, Jason. They’re feeding me rat poison! Tell Thomas that I’m well, and that he needs to get me the hell out of this place! It was only one breakdown! Just one... These people are rats! RATS! RATS! If you’re not gonna help your father out then I’m gonna fucking claw my way out of here. Some son you are,” he shouted, suddenly jumping to his feet. His mood had completely changed in a matter of seconds and his face was alight with panic.

  Ellie and I shared worried glances before she yelled, “Nurse! Come Quick!”

  At that exact moment he dived towards the window and began to try to claw through the glass. I had never seen my father like this. Not even when he was suicidal. This was something different. He was getting worse.

  The sound of the door slamming open threw me back into awareness. Two security personnel and a nurse burst into the room. The nurse was carrying a straight jacket and a tranquilizer. I watched in horror as they tackled him, and as he was held down the nurse inserted the syringe into his arm. He writhed, like an insect caught in a spider’s nest. Fighting with every ounce of manpower he could muster, but to no avail. A second later they had thrown him into the straightjacket and were dragging him out of the room.

  The nurse gave us both a very serious look before she spoke, “Your father has been in an unhealthy and delusional state since he arrived here. Whatever you two said to him must have triggered an acute panic response. I think it might be best if you both leave.”

  The look in her eyes appeared almost furious on the outside but underneath something seemed to linger. It was fear.

  “Let’s get out of here, Jason,” Ellie beckoned. She was scared too.

  I nodded, and we headed off down the stairs at a faster than safe pace. We didn’t look back once on our way to the bikes. We didn’t want too. Whatever we had just witnessed was not even remotely human. Movies always seemed to do a corny job at conveying possession, but I couldn’t think of anything else to liken it to.

  We paused for a moment by the spiky fence where we had chained our bikes to catch our breath.

  “What the hell was that, Jason?” Ellie boomed. Her voice was full of fear and excitement.

  “I don’t know,” I declared. “I don’t fucking know!”

  I kicked the fence as hard as I could, in a flurry of confusion and rage. It stung. Even after after catching my breath for a full minute, my head was still a mess of thoughts. I couldn’t think clearly at all. It was like being stabbed with a needle full of adrenaline. What had my family done to deserve this shit? And what could I do to change any of it? Could I really do anything at all?

  “I’ve got to go,” I declared a moment later before I hopped on my bike. I couldn’t hear whether Ellie raised a protest behind me or not. I couldn’t hear anything other than the vicious, rhythmic pounding of my own heartbeat as it jackhammered against my cerebrum again and again and again.

  ✽✽✽

  I couldn’t sleep all too well that night. Dreams of the asylum gnawed me twice into awareness where I found my bed drenched in a pool of sweat. I finally decided it would be easier to put my earphones in and gradually let the alarm clock burn its numerics into my mind. I can’t say exactly how long it was that I laid there. It seems ironic right now, but my mind was snagged on other things. One thought that continually re-emerged was the question of the limousine. Who was that maniac driving, and more importantly who was his passenger? I didn’t recognize him which was something considerably strange in a town so small. A new sailor or fisherman would have made sense, but I knew the look, and he was far from it. Too well dressed, too precise. Seafarers always had sort of a deeply weathered look. When you give Poseidon the middle finger every other day of the week, you get it pretty quickly. He gave off the vibe of some kind of government spook, but what the hell would the government be doing in Eastmouth? Throwing an all you can eat seafood buffet? I mean seriously, there was near nothing of real interest in the town. It was just like a dime-a-dozen other seaboard towns. That question kept me up for most of the
rest of the night, and it helped me temporarily ignore Tharkham; something I desperately needed right then. Eventually, weariness slowly overtook my brain and I drifted back off into the abyss of dreams, but this time it was a bit different. I slept well.

  I awoke to thunderous claps ringing out in the distance. I let out a groan, which under different context might have sounded like a dying cat, and rubbed my eyes. Instinctively, I looked to the alarm clock and recoiled in horror.

  “Shittttttttttt…,” I grumbled.

  For a second I was near certain Joe would roast my ass on a spitfire until I remembered a vital piece of information that made my previous outrage seem silly. I wasn’t working today. With a victorious cheer, I fell back onto my bed and closed my eyes. I lay there for a while admiring the insides of my eyelids, but soon decided I just wasn’t all that sleepy. It was nice finally having a day off after working three days straight. However, there wasn’t all too much to do in my off time, so I just laid there for a bit. I had probably counted my ceiling tiles a good twelve or thirteen times before my stomach released a low grumble, and I knew I couldn’t shrug off my responsibilities any longer.

  I slogged down the stairs and made some cereal. Certainly not the healthiest choice, but it always got the job done. I didn’t really have a game plan for the day, so when I got a series of texts from Thomas I was immediately curious.

  ***

  Need to meet - 10:15 a.m

  Got a job for you - 10:15 a.m.

  Will pay - 10:17 a.m.

  ***

  Now, I will have to clarify here. Thomas was a long time friend of my father. They had known each other since they were kids, and if my father is to be believed, Thomas had near clocked him in the jaw to get my father to introduce him to my mother. Beyond that, Thomas may actually have been the most affected in the town, outside of my family, by the unpleasant events that had unfolded. That was why Thomas actually lived in my old house to take care of it. He was really the only true family friend.

  Now it wasn’t as if I really needed money, but Thomas nearly never called me down to the docks, so this was certainly a welcome expedition. I replied: