Grace in the Mirror

by Kristy Tate

  “Wouldn’t it be easier to just go through the front gate?” Kelly asked.

  “Are you kidding? Don’t you see that all our neighbors are within spitting distance?” Grace pointed to the right. “See that house? That’s Mrs. Robertson’s. She has three very noisy Yorkies.”

  “You can’t be scared of Yorkies, right? They’re purse puppies.”

  “I’m not scared of the dogs. I’m scared of Mrs. Robertson. And across the street, there’s a chick Toby calls the stalker walker.”

  “What?”

  “She walks around the neighborhood like twenty-four-seven.”

  “Come on.”

  “No, seriously. The rumor is she doesn’t like her mom’s boyfriend so she walks up and down the street with her earphones on whenever his car’s there. I know it’s rude. I’m sure she doesn’t want to be called the stalker walker, just like I don’t want to be called the neighborhood cupboard burglar, or something equally stupid.” Grace took hold of a pepper tree branch and pulled herself up. The tree’s tiny red seed pods rained on her, as if trying to stop her budding breaking-and-entering career. She balanced on the top of the wall. “You’re coming, right?”

  Kelly grabbed the tree with both hands. “Right behind you.”

  Beneath the cover of the pepper tree’s branches and leaves, Grace hesitated for just a moment before she pushed off. She landed with a thud on the Brockbanks’ lawn. The Yorkies next door began to yap. Seconds later, Kelly fell beside her, but she bounced up, brushed off her clothes and flashed Grace a scheming grin.

  “Let’s go,” Kelly mouthed, heading for the side door of the garage.

  Grace put a hand out, stopping her. She lifted her chin at the security camera above the door. “I have to disable the system.” Lifting the small plastic lid, Grace quickly typed in the password. G-R-I-M-M. The system played a tune that sounded like it belonged in a nursery rhyme, then the screen went dark.

  Kelly watched with large eyes. “Grimm? Are you kidding me?”

  By now, Grace’s fingers were shaking. While outside the sun still hovered on the horizon, milky darkness filled the inside of the garage. It took a moment for her vision to adjust to the gloom.

  #

  Brock stood at the edge of the bleachers with Ashton and Bean. Alicia and the other girls on the cheer squad shook their pom-poms and kicked their legs. He tried not to look at her. He felt bad about how he had ended things with her, but not bad that they had ended. He knew he should have broken up with her weeks, if not months, before he actually had.

  He caught sight of Grace’s sister and brother in the stands. Heather was talking with the pretty-boy he’d seen at Liza’s party and the circus. Toby was staring directly at Brock. Brock waved. Toby flushed and looked away.

  “Why’s he staring at you?” Bean asked.

  Brock shrugged.

  “They’re your neighbors now, right?” Ashton asked.

  Brock nodded.

  “Where’s the little one?” Bean asked.

  “You mean Grace?” Brock asked, his voice tight.

  “She’s in my Bio class,” Ashton said.

  “That doesn’t give you first dibs on her,” Bean said.

  “You can’t take dibs on her,” Brock said. “She’s a person, not a candy bar.”

  “I’d like to take a bite out of her,” Bean said.

  “What are you? A vampire?” Ashton asked, elbowing him.

  Bean snorted. “I just want a taste.”

  Brock shoved his hands into his pockets and felt the smooth round coin. It reminded him that, for him, nothing was real. Nothing lasted. He turned and walked away.

  “What’s with him?” he heard Bean ask.

  “He likes her, you moron,” Ashton said.

  “The Oregon girl? Since when? Alicia was like five minutes ago.” Bean huffed. “I can’t keep up.”

  “You don’t have to. In fact, it’s easier if you don’t.”

  #

  Kelly ran her hand over the cupboard. “It’s beautiful.”

  Grace agreed. It really was. “It’s Danish, supposedly from the seventeen hundreds.”

  “How does it work?” Kelly asked.

  Grace told Kelly about the paper she’d found.

  “Here.” Kelly pulled her hairband out. Free from its ponytail, her thick brown hair tumbled around her shoulders. She gingerly opened the cupboard door and set the plastic band inside.

  “Now what?” Grace asked.

  “I’ll make a wish.”

  “Like what?”

  “I don’t know, but it can’t be too big.”

  “Or alive, because that’s creepy.”

  “Better than being dead.”

  A battery-operated clock on the wall ticked, counting off the minutes until they were caught. Grace elbowed Kelly. “Hurry.”

  Kelly screwed her eyes closed, and held deathly still. Her eyes flew open and she unlatched the cupboard door.

  “What is it?”

  Kelly drew out a piece of paper. It was yellowing and crumpled and smelled earthy like the pepper tree.

  “Was that there before?” Grace’s voice caught in her throat.

  Kelly shook her head. The paper fluttered in her hands. “But that’s…”

  “What is it?” Grace didn’t wait for her to finish, but tugged the paper out of her fingers. “I can’t read it. It’s too dark.”

  Kelly nodded at the door leading into the house.

  “No,” Grace exhaled.

  “You know you want to.”

  Grace blew out a breath. “Okay, but just into the hall.”

  Kelly headed for the windowless room Cordelia called the workroom. Once inside, she flipped on the light.

  “What does it say?” Kelly asked, leaning over her shoulder. Her breath blew against Grace’s neck, tickling her.

  Grace studied the formal handwriting. “It’s a Hans Christian Anderson story,” she said. “The Tinderbox. Do you know that one?”

  “Do you?”

  “My mom’s an English teacher, remember? She loves fairy tales, especially Hans Christian Anderson’s.”

  Kelly shook her head. “Why would that be there?”

  “I don’t know. What did you wish for?”

  “A fairy tale.”

  Chills tingled all over Grace’s skin. “You didn’t!”

  Kelly nodded.

  Grace flipped the paper over. “Oh—this is interesting. It says that the cupboard was made from the tree where the soldier hid himself.”

  “What does that even mean?”

  Grace sucked in a deep breath. “Here, I’ll read it to you. ‘On a cold winter’s night, a poor soldier journeyed along a path leading to his home. His shoes were worn, his coat thin, and his heart weary. Miles yet to go, he came upon an old woman.

  “’Young man, would you be so kind as to climb this hollow tree and retrieve a tinderbox?’ She pointed her cane at a gnarled and blackened tree not far from the path.“

  “’If you would so oblige a poor woman’s request, you may keep anything you find within the tree—only bring me the tinderbox.’

  “To the soldier, the tree looked as hollow and as bleak as his future, but he granted the old woman’s wish. To his amazement, inside the tree he found three dogs guarding three large rooms filled with coins. The dog with eyes the size of teacups guarded a vault filled with pennies. The dog with eyes the size of supper-plates protected a vault filled with silver, and one with eyes the size of windmills watched over a vault filled with gold. The soldier gathered as much of the gold as his pockets could hold and dutifully retrieved the tinderbox.

  “Back on the path, he approached the old woman. She bypassed all this gold for this old tinderbox, he thought, studying the box. It looked plain, old, and of little worth, but the soldier knew that looks could be deceiving. Why would she do this? It must be worth more than all the pennies, silver and gold combined.

  “’Young man! The box!’ The old woman held out her hands.
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  “Without another thought, the soldier drew his sword and plunged it into the old woman’s heart. With gold jiggling in his pockets, he tucked the tinderbox beneath his arm, and headed for the city where he lived a life of luxury until his wealth was spent. Forced to live in a dark and dreary attic, one day he strikes the tinderbox. A dog materialized in front of him. He realized that the dogs were at his call and that they would fetch money from the tree at his command.

  “Again, he lived in wealth. But all the gold in the tree could not buy him love. He sought the hand of a princess. He sent the largest dog to bring her to his home. They spent a night of love together, but before dawn, the dog returned the princess to her castle.

  “In the morning, the princess told her parents of her strange dream. Suspicious, the king and queen guard their daughter closely. The following night when the dog arrived to once again carry the princess away, the soldier was discovered. The king threw the soldier into prison and sentenced him to death.

  “On the day of the execution, the soldier begged for his tinderbox and requested one last smoke. He struck the tinderbox. All three dogs appeared. They tossed the king and queen into the air and they were dashed to pieces when they fell to the earth.

  “The princess and soldier are reunited and the dogs joined in the wedding feast.”

  Grace looked up for the paper. “It’s actually a horrible story.”

  “So what does it mean?” Kelly asked again.

  “It means you’re trespassing,” Brock said.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  “You are so fired,” Brock said, trying to tamp down his rising emotions. He couldn’t even define them. Was he angry? Scared? Maybe even a little relieved because here, finally, was someone he could share this with? He wanted to confide in Grace, but not the girl with her. But how could he do that? And how would Grace take it? What would she do? Would he wake up tomorrow to find his house surrounded by news vans and reporters—all wanting to see a magic cupboard or a whispering painting, or a singing flute? And what about the government? That’s what happened to the Ark of the Covenant in Raider’s of the Lost Ark—the government confiscated it and hid it in a big warehouse. And what about thieves? Wouldn’t there be countless people trying to steal something like this?

  He should get a dog. A really noisy dog.

  “I know this doesn’t look good,” Grace began.

  The girl with Grace elbowed her. “Show him the paper.”

  Grace held it out. The paper waved at him like a fan. “I really need this job.” Her voice shook more than her hand.

  “You should have thought of that before you broke into my house.”

  “Just read that.” The other girl snatched the paper from Grace and hit him in the chest with it.

  Brock took it from her, but didn’t look at it. “Who are you?”

  “I’m Kelly, and coming over here was my idea, by the way.”

  “Bad idea,” Brock said.

  Kelly bristled. “Heck no! I found a magic cupboard!”

  “It belongs to my mom.”

  Kelly jabbed him in the chest with a long red pointy fingernail. “So you admit it’s a magic cupboard!”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “Just read the paper. It’ll prove it.”

  Brock studied it. “This doesn’t tell me what you’re doing in our house.”

  “It’s a fairy tale,” Kelly said, as if that explained everything that couldn’t possibly be explained.

  Brock lifted an eyebrow.

  “Tell him,” Kelly urged Grace.

  “Everything?” Grace squeaked.

  “The dwarfs, Prince Charming…”

  Grace flushed, watching Brock’s face. An emotion he couldn’t read flickered in her eyes. “He’ll think I’m nuts,” Grace said.

  “Yeah, well, right now he thinks you’re a thief.” Kelly grabbed Brock’s hand and towed him toward the garage. “I need something.”

  “Like a sedative,” Brock muttered. He didn’t, however, pull away.

  Kelly tugged her charm bracelet off her wrist. “I just want everyone to know that I really like this bracelet, but I’m willing to sacrifice it.” She opened the cupboard, placed the bracelet inside, and shut the door. Closing her eyes, she waited a half-second before re-opening the door.

  Kelly screamed.

  Brock folded his arms and tried to look bored, but felt sick.

  A tiny, scruffy Yorkie barked.

  “A dog…” Brock’s voice trailed away. A minute ago, he’d wished for a dog and now he had one.

  Reaching inside, Grace pulled out the dog and cradled him against her chest. “Is it one of Mrs. Robertson’s?” she asked. The dog snuggled against her, shivering.

  “No, silly!” Kelly shook the paper at Grace. “It’s one of the three dogs!”

  “In the story?” Grace asked.

  “Of course!” Kelly shouted.

  “I’m glad we got the little one,” she muttered. “Why did you wish for a dog?”

  “Remember they can get you money,” Kelly said. “Go get money!” she demanded of the dog.

  The Yorkie whimpered and cowered against Grace.

  “What are you talking about?” Brock asked, feeling shaken.

  Grace told him the Hans Christian Anderson story while stroking the dog’s silky fur and trying to soothe it.

  “I don’t believe any of this,” he said, even though he did.

  “Let’s try it again,” Kelly said, trying to take the dog from Grace.

  “No!” Grace said, backing away and shielding the dog. “What if this time we get the soldier or the witch?”

  “Oh come on.” Brock blew out a breath.

  “What are you even doing here?” Grace asked. “Why aren’t you at the football game?”

  Brock’s lips pressed together as he searched for a biting retort. “This is my house. I belong here. You do not.”

  “You’re right. I’m sorry.” Grace nudged Kelly. “Let’s go.” She turned back to Brock. “I deserve to be fired.”

  “Where are you going?” Brock asked.

  Grace studied the top of the dog’s head. “I’m going to ask Mrs. Robertson if this is one of hers.”

  “Do you think it is?” Brock asked, because he knew it wasn’t.

  “No.”

  “Where do you think it came from?” he asked.

  “Really? I have no idea.”

  “Tell me about the dwarfs again,” he said.

  “Why? So you can laugh at me?”

  “I won’t laugh.”

  “You should. If you told me you were being followed by dwarfs and Prince Charming, I would laugh.”

  Brock swallowed. The decision came quickly. He didn’t stop to wonder if it was a good decision or not. The secret fears had been hounding him for so long, the idea of sharing them nearly choked him with relief. “Can you give us a minute?” he asked Kelly.

  “Why?” Kelly assumed what Cordelia called the Wonder Woman pose—hands on hips, chest thrust out, legs more than hip-distance apart.

  “I just…” Brock’s voice faltered. He really hated the Wonder Woman pose. He’d seen his mom use it a hundred times when she haggled over purchases.

  “Here.” Grace shoved the dog into Kelly’s arms. “Go and ring Mrs. Robertson’s door and tell her a dog got loose.”

  Kelly took the dog. “She’s going to know this isn’t her dog.”

  “Just try it, okay?” Brock said with a strained voice.

  Kelly shrugged. “This might be the stupidest thing anyone has done tonight,” Kelly told the dog as she headed for the garage side door.

  Brock waited until she left before he turned to Grace. “You can’t tell anyone what I’m going to say.”

  “Can I keep my job?”

  Brock waved for her to follow him into the kitchen. He pulled two sodas from the fridge, sat at the massive oak table, and motioned for her to join him. “Last Christmas, a gingerbread man came into my bedroom.”
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br />   “What?” Grace pulled out a chair beside him and fell onto it.

  Brock held up his hands about six inches apart. “He was about this tall. He said he was looking for his buttons.”

  “You were dreaming, right?”

  “I thought I was until a few days later.”

  “What happened?”

  “I found my mom in her workroom making brooches out of a collection of candy buttons.”

  Grace stared at him. “That’s weird, but it’s not puppies-showing-up-out-of-nowhere weird.”

  “You might think that until a walking, talking cookie wakes you up in the middle of the night and demands his buttons.” He tipped back his head and took a long drink of soda. “Besides, that’s not the only time. Once when I was training for a meet, I caught a fox watching me.”

  “Oh. Where were you? Do they have foxes here?”

  “Laguna Hills. Another time I saw three bears. I told my coach about them, but I didn’t mention the middle-sized bear was wearing an apron. The coach called animal control, but of course no one found the bears.” He laughed. “That’s probably not true, Goldilocks found them…” He looked out the window. “I know it doesn’t mean much… I know I should be shocked that my mom bought a magic cupboard that can produce fairy tales and stray puppies, but I’m not as surprised as I should be.” He watched Grace’s face, expecting her to jump up and run away, or point her finger at him and call him a liar. When she did neither of those things, he added, “And, for the record, just now I wished for a dog. A noisy dog. That animal was my wish.”

  Bracing her shoulders, Grace opened up. She told him about the dwarfs, Prince Charming, and the missing mirror.

  He raised his gaze to meet Grace’s. Her dark blue eyes looked luminous in the shadowy kitchen. “And you think my mom has something to do with the missing mirror?”

  “Don’t you?”

  After taking a long drink, he put his can on the table. He pushed back his chair. “Let’s go.”

  “Where?”

  “We’re going to inspect every mirror in the house.”

  Grace hesitated. “I don’t know what a magic mirror looks like. Do you?”