The Mirror (Northwest Passage Book 5)

by John A. Heldt

  "I hope you do, Nana," Ginny said. "I hope you do."

  CHAPTER 76: KATIE

  Freeland, Washington – Saturday, September 5, 1964

  Katie watched her step as she navigated a steep, narrow trail between the dilapidated Agate Inn and a rocky beach. Though she had walked down similar paths many times, she had almost always done it in hiking boots and jeans – and never in tennis shoes and a dress.

  "Are you going to make it?" Mike asked as he extended a hand.

  "I'll make it."

  When Katie joined Mike at the bottom of the trail, she brought a hand to her brow and glanced at the setting sun and several sailboats in the distance. The view of the Admiralty Inlet from this remote corner of Whidbey Island was the stuff of paintings and poetry.

  She understood why her parents had come here as single adults in November 1941, even if the accommodations at the motel were less than ideal. This place was beautiful, quiet, and serene. It was exactly the kind of setting she needed to say the things she needed to say.

  Katie walked to the edge of the surf, stopped, and rubbed her arms. The late summer air had dropped several degrees in just the last hour.

  "Are you cold?" Mike asked.

  Katie nodded.

  "Take this."

  Mike removed his jacket and helped Katie slip it on. When he finished the job, he stepped behind her, wrapped her in his arms, and rested his chin atop her head.

  "Is that better?"

  "Much."

  "This view is incredible," Mike said. "Did you order it when you made the reservation?"

  Katie turned her head and kissed Mike on the cheek.

  "I did. The clerk said it was an option with the luxury suite."

  Mike shook his head and laughed.

  "I'm going to miss that sense of humor."

  "You think so?"

  "I know so," Mike said. "I'm also going to miss moments like this."

  "Me too," Katie said.

  "Hopefully it won't be our last."

  The comment struck Katie like a punch to the gut. The word "last" again reminded her of the permanence of their pending separation. She wanted to respond with soothing words but knew she couldn't. Not now. She had not come here to make Mike feel better. She had come to provide him with answers and maybe – maybe – tell him goodbye.

  The "maybe" part continued to gnaw. For weeks, Katie had assumed that she and Mike had no future. She assumed that he was no more likely to leave his family than she was hers. If she was committed to going and he was committed to staying, the relationship would have to end.

  The question now was his commitment to staying. Could he actually leave a dying mother and his only sibling for someone he had dated for only four months? Could anyone? She didn't know. She knew only that Mike's seemingly unshakable commitment to family was about to be put to a gut-wrenching test.

  She considered the matter for a few minutes as she watched the boats sail by. When she decided she could no longer allow it to torment her mind, she eased out of Mike's embrace.

  "Am I suffocating you?"

  "No. I'm just getting restless," Katie said. She grabbed his hand. "Let's walk."

  "Which way?"

  "It doesn't matter."

  Mike turned, paused, and pointed south.

  "This looks like a good stretch," he said. "Let's go to that bluff. I think we can walk there and back before the tide comes in."

  "All right."

  Katie followed Mike's lead as he started down a beach strewn with driftwood and pebbles. Despite the occasional obstacles, she had little difficulty with the terrain. Though the west shore of the island wasn't Waikiki, it was at least smooth enough to travel on foot. She kept her eyes on the beach and her thoughts to herself until Mike broke the silence ten minutes later.

  "You're awfully quiet," he said. "Is there something you want to tell me?"

  Katie frowned and looked at his face.

  "There's a lot I want to tell you. I just don't know how to do it."

  Mike tightened his hold on her hand.

  "Just say what's on your mind."

  "I can't."

  Mike turned away. He was getting annoyed.

  "Katie, I thought we came here to talk."

  "We did."

  "Then talk to me. I won't bite."

  Katie smiled sadly.

  "Sometimes I wish you would. Then I could treat you as a hostile."

  Mike let go of her hand and wrapped his arm around her shoulder.

  "What's the matter, Katie? You're sadder than you were even yesterday."

  Katie lifted her head and met his gaze.

  "I am sadder. I'm scared too. I'm really scared."

  "Scared of what?"

  "I'm scared of losing you. I don't want to give you up, but I'm afraid I have to."

  Mike looked at her thoughtfully.

  "Why? I'm not going anywhere. If you love me, why go? I still don't understand why you have to leave," he said. "Don't I matter enough for you to stay?"

  "Of course you matter!" Katie snapped. "That's what makes this so hard. If you didn't matter, I would never have asked you to come here. Ginny and I would have just left without even saying goodbye. It would have been much easier, believe me."

  "That doesn't answer my question, Katie. Why do you have to leave?"

  Katie stopped and turned to face him.

  "Because I want to see my family. If I don't leave next week, I will never see them again."

  "That's ridiculous," Mike said. "Of course you will. Your family's not going away. Neither is California. There's no reason you can't see them and come back. If you have to go, then go. I'll wait. Even if the Army takes me a way for a while, I'll wait for you. I'd wait a lifetime for you."

  "It's not that simple, Mike."

  "Then educate me. If it's not that simple, tell me why. Tell me why you think you'll never see your family again if you don't leave next week. I'm open-minded, Katie. I could accept just about anything, except that you're going back to an old boyfriend."

  "Do you really think I'd leave you for someone else?"

  Mike sighed.

  "No. At least I don't think so."

  "Well, I wouldn't. I've never felt this way about anyone else. I never had a real boyfriend until I met you. I dated people in high school but no one seriously. Ginny's the one who went out on Saturday nights. I spent most of my weekends with books."

  "There's really no one else?"

  "No," Katie said. She stepped in front of Mike and turned to face him. "There's no one else. There may never be someone else. This is not about another guy. This is about going home to a place and a time I belong."

  "What do you mean by 'time'?"

  Katie took a breath.

  "I mean I'm not from this time. I'm not from 1964."

  "You're not from 1964?" Mike asked.

  "No."

  Katie saw from the concern and confusion on his face that she was in for a long night. This would be no quick conversation. She looked back toward the shore and saw an enormous log about twenty yards away. Dry and relatively flat on top, it looked as inviting as a street bench on the Ave. She grabbed Mike's hand and pulled him toward the log.

  "What are you doing?"

  "I'm finding a place to sit," Katie said.

  "Are you finally going to tell me what this is about?"

  Katie stopped again. She put her hands on Mike's face.

  "Yes. I'm going to tell you," Katie said. "I'm going to tell you now what I should have told you weeks ago."

  She sighed.

  "I'm going to tell you everything … right after I tell you something else."

  CHAPTER 77: GINNY

  Seattle, Washington – Sunday, September 6, 1964

  Ginny stared across the candlelit table at her boyfriend, former coworker, and rescuer and smiled when he finally returned her gaze. He still bore bruises and cuts from a nasty fight, but he looked as handsome as ever.

  "Thanks, James. I know I
said it earlier, but I want to say it again. Thank you."

  "Thank you for what?"

  "Thank you for coming to my aid the other night," Ginny said. "It took a lot of courage to do what you did. You're the best."

  "You're just saying that because you want me to finish your meatloaf."

  Ginny laughed.

  "No. I'm saying it because I mean it. Thank you."

  "You're welcome," James said. "It seems to me, though, that I should be thanking you. You're the reason I'm not in jail."

  Ginny smiled softly.

  "If that's true, then I guess we're even."

  "I guess we are," James said.

  He sipped from a glass of wine and then stared blankly at a kitchen wall.

  Ginny reached across the table and put her hand on his arm. She kept it there until she had his undivided attention.

  "Thanks for coming over too," Ginny said. "I know you're not happy about me leaving. I thought you might stay home tonight."

  James sighed.

  "If you thought that, then you don't know me very well. I wouldn't have missed this for anything. I understand what you have to do. You have to go home. That doesn't mean we won't see each other again. We will. I know we will."

  Ginny frowned. She didn't like hearing that. If there was one thing she had to do tonight, it was to convince James Green that they would not see each other again.

  She thought about that task as she finished her dinner and again when she ate her dessert. If she was going to tell James the truth and nothing but the truth, then it was time to get the show on the road. She made her move after they cleared the dishes and returned to the table.

  "Can I ask you a question, James?"

  "Of course."

  "Have you ever wondered why two girls from California would move to Seattle without jobs or connections or even a place to stay?"

  "I have a few times. It still seems kind of strange," James said.

  "Have you ever wondered whether Katie and I lied about our past?"

  "No."

  Ginny paused one last time to consider whether the truth was really her only moral option. When she decided that it was, she proceeded to tell James everything.

  "Well, we did lie. We're not from California. We grew up just a few miles away."

  "Are you kidding?"

  Ginny shook her head.

  "No. I'm not kidding."

  "Then why didn't you say so?" James asked. "I would have liked you no matter where you came from. Mike would have too."

  "The reason we didn't tell you is because there's more to our story. Katie and I aren't just from Seattle. We're from the future. We're time travelers."

  "You're what?" James asked.

  "We're time travelers. We came here from the year 2020."

  "Oh, Lord. Now, I've heard everything."

  Ginny smiled.

  "You don't believe me?"

  "I believe you've had too much wine. That's what I believe."

  "I have proof."

  "Proof?" James asked. "Oh, boy. This I have to see."

  Ginny stared at James as she got up from her chair. She didn't want to leave the table and walk into the living room to get the proof, but she knew it was the only way she could make her case and wipe that grin off his face. She returned a moment later with her purse.

  "Are you ready?" Ginny asked.

  James laughed.

  "Ready for what? You have a ray gun in that purse?"

  "No. I have a Washington state driver's license. It's not valid in 1964, but it's legit."

  "Show me," James said.

  Ginny dug the license out of her purse and slid it across the table.

  "Go ahead. Hold it up to the light. It's pretty cool."

  James did as instructed.

  "This is a fake. I know college boys who make stuff like this."

  Ginny smiled again.

  "Do you know college boys who make fake IDs for people born in 2001?"

  James shook his head.

  "No," James said. He stared at Ginny with curious eyes. "Why would you do that? Why would you get a fake ID that says you were born in 2001? You'd get busted for sure."

  Ginny laughed. It was time for Exhibit B.

  "Let me show you something else."

  She pulled out a packet of wallet-size photographs and handed them to James.

  "What are these?" he asked.

  "They're graduation pictures. Tell me what you see."

  James examined the color photos closely.

  "I see you and Katie holding your diplomas."

  "What else do you see?"

  "I see words. I see 'Westlake High School, Class of 2020.'"

  "Do you think the pictures are fakes too?"

  James rubbed his chin and sighed.

  "I don't know."

  "Let me show you a few other things."

  Ginny opened a zippered pouch in her purse. She retrieved a handful of pennies, nickels, dimes, and quarters from the twenty-first century and spread them across the table.

  "How about these? Have you ever seen coins like these?"

  Ginny watched James closely as he picked up a Roosevelt dime, a coin whose design had not changed in seventy-four years. She could literally see the skepticism drain from his face.

  "Where did you get these?"

  "I got them at stores and restaurants in Seattle, fifty-six years from now."

  "You can't be serious," James said.

  "Let me show you one more thing."

  Ginny again reached into her big bag of proof and pulled out a cell phone that she had recharged that morning. She turned it on and gave it to James.

  "What's this?"

  "It's a telephone," Ginny said. "It doesn't work here because there's no network to support it, but it works where I come from. In 2020, I can call anyone in the world."

  James examined the device for about a minute and then put it back on the table. When he looked at Ginny, he looked like a man who had seen a ghost.

  "You're for real."

  "I'm for real," Ginny said. "Katie and I have been here four months. We went to an exhibit at a fair on our nineteenth birthday, walked through a magic mirror, and came out in 1964. We plan to go back to that same exhibit tomorrow and go home to 2020."

  James kept to himself for a moment, as if digesting everything she had said. When he finally returned to Ginny, he shook his head and laughed.

  "What's so funny?" Ginny asked.

  "I was just thinking," James said. "If you stuck around a few weeks, you could make a lot of money."

  "What do you mean?"

  "I mean you probably know who's going to win the election and maybe the World Series. If I were you, I'd at least make a million or two before going back."

  Ginny grinned.

  "You're just like my dad. He thinks that way too."

  James frowned.

  "You're not going to do it, though, are you? You're not going to stick around."

  Ginny shook her head.

  "No. We're leaving tomorrow. We have to be at the fair when it opens. If the mirror doesn't send us back, we'll keep trying until it does. We have only one shot at this. We can't take any chances by staying here."

  "I understand," James said. "I'm going to miss you, Ginny Smith."

  Ginny gazed at James and sighed.

  "I'm not gone yet, mister."

  She got up out of her chair, walked across the kitchen to a radio, and turned it on. When she finally found a station that played easy listening, she set the dial, walked to the middle of the kitchen, and extended a hand.

  "You want to dance?" James asked.

  "I want to dance."

  James met Ginny on the kitchen floor. They danced to a song that their parents had probably danced to and then another and another. The songs were slow, sweet, and eminently satisfying.

  They danced for more than three hours. Every now and then, he stole a kiss. Every now and then, she gave him potentially useful information abou
t the future. They talked, laughed, and enjoyed each other's company until eleven, when the station switched from music to news.

  James gazed at Ginny for a moment before finally acknowledging the change.

  "I should go. Even I can't dance to the news," James said with a laugh. He pulled her close and kissed her on the forehead. "It's been a great night, Ginny. I'll never forget this. I'll never forget you."

  Ginny heard the words but didn't process them. She was in a different place, a place where dates didn't end when radio stations changed their programming but rather when romance had run its course. So when James stepped away and went for his jacket, she pulled him back and gave him a tender kiss.

  "I know it's late and that I should let you go, but I'm not going to do it just yet."

  "You're not?" James asked.

  Ginny shook her head.

  "No. Instead, I'm going to move this dance to a different room."

  Ginny grabbed his hand and led him down the hallway toward her bedroom. She got as far as the door before she felt some resistance. James pulled on her hand and turned her around.

  "Why are you doing this, Ginny?" James asked. "You're leaving tomorrow. You're not coming back. You won't see me again."

  Ginny sighed, threw her arms over his shoulders, and gave him another kiss.

  "You've given me the best summer of my life. That's worth something," she said. "I know I'm leaving. I know I'm not coming back. But that's exactly why I want to do this."

  Ginny tightened her arms around his neck.

  "If this is it, James. If this is the really the last time I see you and spend time with you, then I want to make it count. I want to leave you with more than a smile."

  CHAPTER 78: GINNY

  Monday, September 7, 1964

  Ginny leaned on a Ford Fairlane station wagon owned and usually operated by Joe and Virginia Jorgenson and watched Nana come out of her house with a large manila envelope. She laughed as the woman almost tripped on a roller skate on the walk that led to the driveway.

  "Watch your step, Nana. Joanie's toys are a killer."

  "I will be so glad when she gets out of this stage," Virginia said.

  "Be careful what you wish for. Boys are the next stage," Ginny said.

  "Don't remind me."

  Ginny stood up straight, smoothed the wrinkles in her yellow dress, and moved away from the vehicle when Virginia reached the driveway.