Boy in the Mirror

by Robert J. Duperre

  Annette whispered in her ear, “We should tell them.”

  Jacqueline’s insides clenched.

  “No talking,” Olivia ordered. Her head was down, eyes closed. All five friends held hands.

  The candle burned down to nothing, casting the basement into sinister darkness. Neil clicked on an electric camping lantern. Jacqueline glanced at Annette, mouthed, I can’t. Annette nodded in understanding.

  Olivia raised her head, and all hands unclasped. She looked at Ronni. “Go get the candle.”

  Ronni picked up the plate and Olivia held open the muslin bag so she could pour the cooling wax inside. Neil scraped hardened remnants off the plate. Then Jacqueline tipped the cup filled with blessing oil, dribbling three drops. Olivia sealed the bag and placed it on the ground between the two framed pictures.

  “Listen, I kinda changed the wording,” Olivia said, pulling a folded sheet of paper from her back pocket. “Usually this spell’s used so you can be given answers in your sleep, but I wanted to try something.” She smiled nervously. “Hope I didn’t screw it up.”

  “I don’t think you did,” said Ronni softly.

  Olivia nodded. “Jackie, you got the question?”

  “She does,” said Annette, handing over a note card with the words Are you together in the afterlife? written on it.

  Olivia held a lighter to the card, and it slowly went up in flames, glowing bits floating around their heads like fairies. Olivia then lifted her unfolded paper. “Can everybody see this? Yeah? Okay, let’s say it together. On three.”

  The Hispanic girl cleared her throat and counted down. Five voices spoke in unity: “No longer with us but wisdom is forever. We ask for information in this matter. Answer us through the portal of forever as we stand here dreaming. As we will it so mote it be.”

  “Now what?” whispered Neil.

  Olivia glared. “Now we hold hands again and wait. So shut up.”

  Jacqueline held her breath, staring at their reflections in the mirror. They all looked so young, kids playing with things they’d never understand. The mirror seemed to darken for a moment, making Olivia gasp, but nothing appeared other than their reflections.

  “Anyone see anything?” Ronni said out the side of her mouth.

  “No,” pouted Olivia.

  Annette squeezed Jacqueline’s hand. Jacqueline took a deep breath.

  “I got an idea,” she said, voice cracking.

  “Yeah?” said Neil.

  Jacqueline swallowed. “Yup. I was looking up some stuff. Sound frequencies can help summoning spirits. The right frequency can open doors between realities. Or something like that.”

  She hadn’t looked anything up; those had been Mal’s instructions.

  “What, we supposed to hum or something?” asked Olivia.

  “Nope.” Jacqueline reached into her coat pockets, removed the two tools she needed—the compact, and an electronic tuner she’d borrowed from Brian, the spiky-haired boy from down the street. “I got what we need right here.”

  She approached the shelving to the right of the mirror, refusing to look behind her and see her friends’ expressions. With care, she nestled the compact into the larger top hole of the strange metal contraption. It fit perfectly. She then put the tuner down, setting it to f-sharp as she’d been told to do, and turned it on. A whining drone filled the air, and she suddenly realized the buzzing she’d heard the first time she came here was absent.

  “What’s she doing?” Olivia asked.

  “Shush,” Annette scolded.

  Jacqueline took a deep breath, stopped her hands from shaking, and opened the compact. Mal was there, staring up at her, smiling. She stood directly in front of him so that he couldn’t see her friends.

  “Beautiful girl,” he said.

  “Don’t be mad,” she whispered, and Mal’s expression dropped

  “Who’s she talking to?” Neil said from behind her.

  “Who was that?” asked Mal.

  “Friends. Don’t worry.”

  “Annette?”

  “All of them.”

  “Jackie…”

  “Just trust me.”

  The boy in the mirror looked up at her doubtfully. Jacqueline sunk her teeth into her bottom lip. With the note whining away, she placed her palm down on the mitten-shaped impression in the second device. The plastic felt cold and slick under her bare flesh.

  “What’s she doing? I don’t like this. En absoluto. Not one bit.”

  Jacqueline felt a low vibration work its way outward from her core, making her whole body quake. Her eyes grew droopy and her muscles weakened, as if the strange device was slowly sapping her of life. Lights surrounding her hand sparked to life, flashing a series of reds, greens, yellows, and purples. A beeping sound easily rose above the drone of the tuner.

  Behind her, the rest of the Otakus Oooh’ed.

  Jacqueline peered at Mal’s image as it flickered in and out of existence. Jacqueline’s heart seemed to stop beating whenever he disappeared. A shriek pierced the night, bouncing off the basement walls. Her friends shouted behind her. Jacqueline screamed

  The six-foot-tall mirror started shaking. Multicolored lights, just like those coming from the plastic device, pulsed along the seaweed and fishes carved into its mahogany frame. The weird symbol adorning the placard at the top then blazed to life, lighting up the massive expanse of the basement. The air grew hot, ice melted on the walls.

  Jacqueline backed up, almost lifted her hand out of the mitten-shaped impression. “Don’t!” Mal shouted, his voice coming from everywhere and nowhere at once. Jacqueline swallowed her fear and pressed down harder, even as she grew weaker. Her knees buckled.

  “What the hell’s going on!” screamed a terrified Ronni.

  “Holy shit!” exclaimed Neil.

  Jacqueline looked on in horror as Mal vanished from the compact. The small round mirror went dark, then shattered. The surface of the much larger mirror started to ripple with black oil, just like in her dreams. Circles plinked on the liquid sheen, expanding ever outward.

  And then Mal appeared.

  He stood in the mirror, surrounded by inky blackness. For the first time, Jacqueline saw the whole of him, and he was beautiful, tall and lean, his white hair hanging just above his shoulders.

  “Jackie,” Mal said. “I’m coming.”

  Her friends yelled behind her.

  Mal rested his palms against the inside of the mirror and pushed, but met resistance. His smile curled downward. He shoved harder, but the rippling sheen didn’t budge. The mirror began to shake; the pictures of Jacqueline’s parents fell over, glass shattering. Mal’s eyes widened, his chest rising and falling rapidly. His face was awash with panic.

  “Jackie, help me!” he cried.

  “How?” she yelled back.

  “HELP ME!”

  Jacqueline fell to her knees, her hand still on the plastic device. The lights surrounding the mirror flared. Mal’s mouth twisted in pain, and he collapsed. Blood sprayed from his lips, speckled the inside of the mirror.

  “Mal, no!” Jacqueline shrieked.

  Mal cradled his arm to his chest, rolled into a sitting position, and gazed at Jacqueline with heavy eyes. He looked dismayed, a boy who’d lost hope.

  “I’m sorry,” he said.

  “NO!”

  The mirror went dark; a single crack snaked down its center. The machines wound down with a whine. The only sounds Jacqueline could hear was her own heavy breathing and the hum of the tuner.

  “Mal?” she whispered.

  Her hand slipped off the now-cold plastic device, and she crawled toward the broken mirror. She stared at her own reflection in the two halves. Her eyes were sunken, cheeks pale, hair slathered with sweat. She was all alone. Mal was nowhere to be found.

  “What the heck just happened?” someone asked.

  Jacqueline turned around. Annette stood ten feet away, arms crossed over her chest and shaking. Olivia, Neil, and Ronni huddled together, looki
ng terrified. Annette took a step toward her friend, but Jacqueline held up a hand, stilling her. She stared at the broken compact.

  “He’s gone.”

  “Jackie?” said Annette.

  “He’s gone. Mal’s gone.”

  If this doesn’t work, I’ll cease to exist, Mal had told her. Should that happen, destroy the mirror. You have activated the portal; we cannot let darkness pass through.

  Jacqueline’s muscles tensed. Whatever strength the weird machine had sucked from her came back tenfold, and she rumbled toward a pile of broken furniture. The iron post of an old bed frame jutted out of the wreckage, and she grasped it tightly. With a single, mighty yank the post came free, causing the pile of debris to collapse. She turned and ran at the mirror, shrieking, iron post held above her head like a club.

  “Jackie!” Annette shouted.

  She didn’t listen. The mirror showed her the faces of all those who’d wronged her. The Korvaks, Tyler, Papa Gelick, Todd. Even her father was there, judging her, with Mitzy standing right behind him. Jacqueline reared back and brought down the post as hard as she could. The blunted end connected with the top of the mirror. Chunks of reflective glass flew through the air as it exploded.

  She swung her weapon relentlessly, smashing the mahogany frame and the wires within, crunching the legs. The mirror fell over, but Jacqueline didn’t let up. Only when it was in splinters did she turn to the two strange devices, demolishing those as well, the steel crumbling under her anger as if it were balsawood.

  When it was done she stood above the wreckage, shoulders heaving. Her throat was sore from screaming. The post fell from her hand, thudded on the dirt floor. Her anger was replaced by a heart-wrenching emptiness.

  “They’re all gone,” she said, facing her friends. She would’ve broken down right there, but she didn’t seem to have tears left to shed.

  Annette approached her. “We’re still here,” she said.

  Jacqueline curled in on herself. “I want to go home now. Can we go home?”

  “Of course.”

  CHAPTER 48

  Hannah drove down some dirt path in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by snowy fields and graffiti-covered barns, in the middle of the night. A long string of curses streamed from her lips. She was pissed.

  Drew had called and asked her to come get him in tobacco country, and he’d sounded desperate, which was unlike him. There’s a lot unusual about Drew lately. He was talking much more eloquently, which had turned her on something fierce at first, but he wouldn’t touch her anymore. He spent all his time with Yoel and Kurt. When Hannah talked to him, he acted bored, even rolling his eyes. It seemed like he wanted out of the relationship, which was why she’d jumped into action when his number came up on the caller ID.

  It’s all Mr. Cottard’s fault, she thought, chewing on the inside of her cheek as she turned down a snow-packed side road. Drew hadn’t been the same since his father had pulled him away from her after Christmas mass, after all.

  A thought came to her, and Hannah smiled mischievously. Maybe this little rendezvous was his way of making her happy while keeping away from his father’s prying eyes. She leaned forward and focused on the slippery road with renewed vigor, gazing at the snow on either side of her. I hope he brought blankets.

  The road ended at another dilapidated barn, Drew’s Lexus sitting in front of it, the rear windshield covered in frost. Hannah pulled up alongside and threw her own car into park. When she shut off the engine, she wrapped her scarf around her neck and braced against the wind. It was so cold outside that it felt like her core was turning to ice.

  As she approached the barn, she noticed that all of Drew’s tires were flat. She frowned, holding out dwindling hope that her boyfriend’s call had been about more than asking for free cab service.

  Then she walked through the barn doors, and her hope vanished.

  Drew stood in the center of the space, bathed in electric light. A generator chugged along in the background, hot air blew out of a forced-air heater to the left. Yoel and Kurt moped off to the side. A knot of rage formed in the back of Hannah’s throat.

  “What the hell—”

  The ugly gash running down the left side of Drew’s forehead stilled her tongue. That side of his face was purple and swollen, his hair and neck was caked with dried blood. Yoel and Kurt were beat up too, Kurt’s eye swollen shut, Yoel’s nose flattened and hideous.

  Hannah ran up to her boyfriend and threw her arms him “My God, what happened?”

  “We ran into trouble,” he said, wincing.

  “What kinda trouble? Who did this to you? Did you call the cops?

  Drew shook his head.

  Hannah kissed his cheek, and he didn’t kiss her back. He was stiff, his pupils dilated. She wondered if he had a concussion. “Drew, what’s going on?”

  “Nothing. We simply need a ride,” he told her, wiggling out of her clutches and gesturing to the other two. “Yoel, Kurt, get in the car. We are leaving.”

  He certainly didn’t sound like he had a concussion.

  Heat rose on Hannah’s cheeks, and she shoved both hands into Drew’s chest, knocking him backward. He glared at her, and she glared right back. Hannah Phillips wasn’t about to be ignored.

  She went to jab her finger into his chest, but she caught sight of something in her periphery and paused. Against the far wall of the barn, in the darkness behind one of those raised lights, she saw a rolled and bulging tarp. Murky handprints covered its blue surface. Hannah forgot about Drew for the time being. There was something sticking out from one of the tarp’s rolled ends, fluttering in the circulating air from the heater. Is that hair?

  She walked up to the spooled tarp and knelt down, touching the tacky threads. Yup, hair. The dirt floor was dark with wetness. She reached down, her fingers pressing into the damp earth.

  “What the—”

  Hands violently grabbed her shoulders, lifted her to standing. She was spun around and shoved backward until she collided with the wall, breath knocked from her lungs. Drew barred his arm across her chest, his expression frighteningly passive. Kurt and Yoel lingered in the background.

  Hannah tried to get free from his arm-bar, but he was too strong. Fear made her heart thump. “What…‌are you…‌doing?”

  “We are to be part of something wonderful, Hannah,” he said.

  Drew lifted a small tube, flicked off the rubber stopper with his thumb. He held the tube underneath her nose. Hannah scrunched up her face and tried to turn away. She gagged, the back of her throat itching, as a reek like a compost heap drenched in gasoline assaulted her. Pain spiked in her head, like knights clashing swords behind her eyes. Bile climbed up her throat, she turned to the side and gagged.

  “Is it not wonderful?” Drew said.

  The rancid odor and her queasiness did nothing but piss her off more. She snapped her head around, bile flinging from her lips, and growled. Drew’s passive expression became concerned.

  “Let go of me,” she seethed.

  “How do you feel?” he asked.

  “None of your business. Let me go.”

  He dropped his arm and backed up a step. Hannah took a deep breath and brought a hand to her sore breastbone. Drew stared at her, dismayed. She wished she could bash his face in.

  “This…‌is unfortunate,” Drew said.

  “Damn right it is,” she shot back. “I don’t know what you’re playing at here, but it’s not funny.” She eyed the rolled-up tarp, reached into her coat, and pulled out her cell phone. Luckily, she still had bars.

  “What are you doing?” asked Drew.

  “Calling the cops,” she said.

  “Do not.”

  “Stop me.”

  Her fingers tapped out the first two digits, but she never got to the third. In a single violent motion, Drew swung his fist, connecting with the underside of her jaw. Her teeth slammed together through her tongue. Stars burst in her vision, blood filled her mouth. Her face went numb, followed b
y the rest of her. Her knees buckled and gave out.

  She hit the ground, hard. Hannah’s brain was on fire, as was her face. Her world began to spin, and she was able to loll her head enough to see Yoel and Kurt approaching. The two boys helped lift her, carried her out of the barn and into the bright, moonlit night.

  Hannah was dumped unceremoniously in the back of her own car. She closed her eyes, her vision gone wobbly. She sensed someone sliding into the backseat beside her. Doors closed. The engine started up and then they were moving, the sway and bounce of the car making her feel ill all over again.

  “Should we dispose of her?” Yoel asked.

  “That is for father to decide when he returns.”

  Those were the last words Hannah heard before she passed out.

  CHAPTER 49

  The Otaku Clan walked down Brenslow in silence. Headlights appeared behind them for a moment and then disappeared. No one said a word. Jacqueline was glad for that. She didn’t want to try and explain what’d gone on in the basement. She just wanted to go home to Mitzy’s empty house, curl up in bed, and fall asleep forever. She clutched the broken frames containing her parents’ pictures tight to her chest and put one foot in front of the other, head down.

  Her life was over. Mal was gone. Mitzy was gone. All she had now were her friends, and she just knew that once they returned to their homes, they’d disappear from her life completely. She’d finally be the pariah she should’ve been after Drew pasted those articles about her dad all over school. And scary as it was to admit, part of her actually wanted that.

  But not all of her, far from it.

  The group passed the park and approached Chestnut Street. Jacqueline heard another car approaching, a moment later twin bright lights sped past the walking teenagers. Her insides buzzed. What’s wrong with me? She felt anxious, like she had the night Todd took her to the Halloween party. She shouldn’t feel that way. Her life was over. She should be despondent instead, should want to crawl in a hole and never come back out.