Time Echoes

by Bryan Davis

  Clara slid the photos together into a pile, careful to keep them in order. “By the way, I put a new phone in the laptop bag and a debit card for any immediate expenses, so make sure you find them and put them away.”

  “I will. Thanks.”

  She walked to the desk and turned the laptop on. “Better get started on your father’s email as soon as possible. Your parents’ funeral is on Tuesday.”

  “Tuesday? Did the police find them?”

  “An anonymous person sent a photograph of their bodies and said he would reveal their location by Monday. If that tip pans out, I want to be ready, assuming the funeral home can prepare the bodies quickly enough.”

  I swallowed past a painful lump. “Do I have to go?”

  She tapped on the keyboard. “Of course you have to go. You will be a pallbearer, and I was hoping you’d play something. Dr. Malenkov suggested that you and he should play the Vivaldi duet.”

  “No.” I lowered my head, keeping her in view. “I couldn’t handle that.”

  She gazed at me for a moment before nodding. “I understand. I’ll arrange for different music.”

  “Thanks.”

  She took my hand. “Do you want to be a pallbearer?”

  I kept my head low. “I guess I can do that.”

  Kelly barged in and leaned back on the door, slamming it shut. “That was close.”

  “Exactly what I said.” I touched my stomach. “But I didn’t know I liked Walmart fruit drinks.”

  Kelly flashed an injured expression. “I had to get him out of here, didn’t I?”

  “You didn’t have to lie.”

  She set her hands on her hips. “Get real, Nathan. Don’t tell me you never lie.”

  Clara forked her fingers at us. “Both of you hush. This is no time for a spitting match.” She handed the stack of photos to Kelly. “If you two can’t work together, we’ll never figure this out.”

  Kelly lowered her hands. “If he keeps looking down on me, we can’t work together.”

  Clara pointed a finger that almost touched Kelly’s nose. “Listen, little lady, condescension isn’t a one-way street. Maybe you need to come down off your high horse and trust him.” Clara turned to me and shot a hot stare. “And that goes double for you, Mr. High and Mighty. You’d better learn to trust her.” She stalked to the door, jerked it open, and stormed out of the room.

  As soon as her heavy footsteps faded, Kelly spun toward the exit and took a hard step toward it.

  I held up a hand. “Wait.”

  She halted and turned toward me, tears in her reddened eyes. “What?”

  “I … uh …” I had no idea what to say, but I had to come up with something. Maybe I could follow what Dad always did when Mom got upset. Just ask questions. Get to the root of the anger. “Are you mad at me or your father?” I winced at my own words. It was a pretty dumb question.

  “Both.” She tapped her socked foot on the floor with a fast beat and turned toward the mirror. “He’s a clueless buffoon. What’s your excuse?”

  I looked at the mirror over her shoulder. A tear spilled from one of her eyes.

  Pulling her lips in, Kelly swung her head to the side, avoiding my stare. Her foot continued its frantic tapping. “Don’t you have something to do besides stare at me? Like figuring out that password?”

  “Not yet.” A strange sensation poured over my body, a tingle that radiated across my skin. In my reflected image, an almost imperceptible light bathed my face, microscopic particles that attached to my skin.

  Although I stayed motionless, my reflected head shifted, leaving the aura of light behind. Somehow the Nathan in the mirror had detached and moved on his own, first laying his hands on the shoulders of Kelly’s reflection, then turning her around. “I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings,” my mirror image said. “You’re my sister now, and I’ll do anything to make sure you’re my friend, too.”

  The real Kelly focused on the mirror. Her reflection wrapped her arms around my reflection and laid her head on his chest.

  “I’m sorry for being such a jerk,” her reflection said. “We just need to get to know each other better.”

  As the two reflections embraced, Kelly slowly turned and faced me. “Is …” She swallowed hard. “Is that what you’re thinking?”

  I licked my lips. “Yeah. Pretty much.”

  She slid her arms around my waist and laid her head against my chest. “Then say it. Say it like you mean it.”

  Her trembling arms sent shivers up my back. I reached around and returned the embrace, keeping my touch gentle. I whispered into her ear. “You’re my sister now, and I’ll do anything to make sure you’re my friend, too.”

  “And I’m sorry for being such a jerk.” She looked up at me. “We really do need to get to know each other better.”

  I patted her lightly on the back. “Like Clara said, we need to trust each other.”

  “Do you trust me?” Her teary eyes sparkled.

  I nodded. “Yes, I trust you.”

  She pulled away and lowered her head, silent for a few seconds before whispering, “I hope you’ll keep trusting me, no matter what.”

  I glanced at the mirror. It had returned to normal, including Kelly’s sad profile as she kept her eyes averted. I reached for her hand and interlocked our thumbs. “Trust is a two-way street. As long as we trust each other, we’ll be fine.”

  Now looking at me, she tightened her grip on my hand, a hint of a smile brightening her face. “I can live with that.”

  I nodded at the mirror. “I don’t think I like my thoughts being projected on a theater screen.”

  “Looks like my dad’s wish came true. We have a reality show right here in our house.” She let go of my hand and headed for the door. “I’ll see you in a few minutes.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “To record the game like I promised, but if anything happens on The Nathan Show, I want to hear all about it.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  I awoke to the sound of chirping birds. With morning sun filtering through the drapes, the room carried an eerie dimness. The mirror reflected the gloom accurately, including my bare feet protruding from disheveled bedcovers, proof of the fitful night I had suffered, probably the result of my failed attempts to remember Dad’s email password.

  After two hours of trying, I had given up and collapsed into bed, only to face new troubles — dreams of walking through remnants of shattered violins, every fragment covered with blood, a trail that led to the twin coffins I had seen back in Chicago. In the dream, however, each coffin held only a human-sized black stone with strange symbols etched in white on its surface. They reminded me of —

  “Rosetta!” I sat upright in bed. That was the key to the password. I threw off the bedspread, scrambled out from under the sheets, and plopped down in the desk chair. After punching the laptop’s power button, I turned on the lamp and the digital clock’s FM radio. As the classical station played a Tchaikovsky piano concerto, I squirmed while waiting for the boot-up process to finish.

  A light tap sounded on the door. “Nathan?” Kelly called. “Are you up?”

  I glanced down at my clothes. Gym shorts and T-shirt. That would do. “Yep. Come on in.”

  The door pushed open, and Kelly entered. Wearing a pink knee-length nightshirt that said, Sanity Is Overrated, and combing through tangled hair with her fingers, she shuffled her purple bunny slippers across the carpet and peered at the computer.

  I grinned. “You look … uh … relaxed.”

  “I hardly slept a wink.” She poked my forearm. “I’m your sister now, so you’d better get used to my frumpy fashions.”

  I scanned her from head to toe. Her bright smile and sparkling eyes outshone any frumpiness, and the tangled hair and casual attire made her seem down to earth … real. “You look great.”

  She pushed my shoulder. “Sweet talker.”

  “No, really.” I winked. “You’re supposed to trust me, remember?”


  “Well, then …” She bowed her head. “Thank you for the compliment.”

  “No problem.” I checked the digital clock on the desk. 8:15. Sunday morning. “What time is your church service?”

  “Church? Um … we haven’t been … I mean …”

  I waved a hand. “Don’t worry about it.” I opened the Internet browser and brought up Dad’s email provider. “I remembered the password this morning.” As I typed in “Rosetta Speaks,” I recited each letter out loud.

  Kelly looked on from behind me. “Rosetta? Like the Rosetta Stone?”

  “Right.” I scanned a long list of email folders, each with a number embedded — a count of the messages within. “Looks like I’ve got more than five hundred to go through.”

  She pointed. “Look at all those with Rosetta in the title. It must be important.”

  “Probably. I even had a dream about it. That’s how I remembered the password.” I pulled a tablet of paper from the desk drawer and scribbled a picture as I described the dream. “The stone was split in half, and the pieces were lying in two coffins, one piece in each coffin, and a trail of bloody violins led up to them.”

  “Bloody violins?” Kelly shuddered. “That’s creepy.”

  I spelled out “Rosetta” in block letters on the pad. “I think the dream was sort of like a puzzle. Dad loves …” Like a bursting bubble, new sadness surged. I breathed a sigh. “I mean, Dad used to love puzzles.”

  Kelly rubbed my back. “You don’t have to be careful with your words. I knew what you meant.”

  I nodded. “Thanks.”

  She gave me a playful rap on the head with her knuckles. “You know, I think the pizza put that dream in your head. That slice with liver and anchovies was inspirational.”

  I looked at her silly grin. She was trying to shake me out of my funk. “Actually, I kind of liked it.” I thumped my chest. “I felt like a real man.”

  “Oh, no!” Clutching her throat, she stuck out her tongue and staggered with dramatic flair. “I ate an anchovy! I’m growing hair on my chest, and I left the toilet seat up! Don’t ask me to stop for directions; I’m turning into a man!”

  As I laughed, I caught a glimpse of Kelly’s comical display in the mirror. The two Kellys seemed to be performing a weird tribal dance, completely out of sync with the classical music playing on the radio. The girl in the mirror turned fuzzy for a moment, then sharpened again, now dressed in loose-fitting khaki pants and a short-sleeved safari shirt. When the real Kelly turned toward the mirror, she released her throat and stared.

  I shot up from the chair and joined her. I, too, was dressed in khakis in the mirror image. Our reflected surroundings morphed into a dim chamber with a faint glow seeping in through arched windows near a high ceiling. Shards of varnished wood littered the smooth floor, making a trail through a maze of music stands toward two coffins that sat on a long table in the gloomy distance.

  I whispered, “This is my dream.” I took two trembling steps closer. “That’s the performance hall, the place where my parents were killed, but now the coffins are on stage.”

  Kelly sat on the bed, still staring. “The mirror’s reflecting what you’re thinking again. You put us both into your dream.”

  I pointed at my image as it crept side by side next to hers. “Where did I come up with the safari outfits? I never owned anything like that.”

  “I do. My dad wanted to take me hunting, so — ” Her eyes widened. “That’s exactly how those baggy old pants fit me. How could you know?”

  In the image, a man in a navy blue blazer rose from behind the coffins. “How did you cross the barrier?” he asked.

  I stepped closer to the mirror and whispered, “I can hear that guy.”

  “Me, too.” Kelly got up and pressed close to my side. “Your imagination is going nuts.”

  “He’s one of Mictar’s men. His name’s Dr. Gordon.”

  The Nathan in the mirror halted. “I crossed the same way as before. I had a dream, it showed up in the mirror, then music, a flash of light, and zap, I’m here. Why?”

  “You’re not carrying it,” Dr. Gordon said. “How could you transport without it?”

  The mirror Nathan crossed his arms. “I have my ways.”

  Dr. Gordon walked to the front of the coffins, a pronounced limp in his gait. “I asked you to bring it. I want to teach you how it works.”

  “It’s too dangerous. I’m having it locked up forever.”

  “How will you return to Blue?”

  “You seem to know how. I’ll just follow you.”

  Dr. Gordon half closed an eye. “Very well. Come over here. I’ll show you why I called you.”

  Glancing around, the Nathan in the mirror skulked forward, Kelly’s reflection at his heels. He peered into one of the coffins and growled at Dr. Gordon. “How did they get here?”

  “I suppose Mictar thought Earth Yellow would be a safe place to hide them.”

  His arm shaking, the mirror Nathan reached into the coffin and lifted a feminine hand. “How did you find them?”

  A tall, dark figure in the mirror grabbed Nathan from behind and covered his eyes with a thin hand. As my reflected self struggled, I clenched my fist. “Mictar!”

  The real Kelly yelled. “Don’t just stand there, Kelly! Help him!”

  In the mirror, Kelly leaped onto Mictar from behind and gouged his face with her fingernails. As my double slumped to the stage floor, Mictar reached around and tore Kelly from his back. With an aura of light surrounding him, he covered her eyes with his hand. Sparks flew from beneath his palm. She stiffened, and her mouth dropped open, but only a timid squeak came out. A few seconds later, she, too, collapsed.

  Straightening his pulsating body, Mictar heaved in a deep breath and looked toward the ceiling. “Ah! The ecstasy of youthful vigor!”

  Dr. Gordon hobbled forward and frisked mirror-Nathan’s clothes. “He didn’t bring it.” He shifted over to Kelly and searched her body, running his hands along every curve.

  The real Kelly shivered. “I think I’m going to be sick.”

  Gordon grabbed a shock of mirror-Nathan’s hair and jerked his head high enough to speak to him face-to-face. As the wounded boy’s features stretched out, his eyelids opened. Empty eye sockets encircled by black sooty scorch marks stared back at him.

  A purplish vein on the side of Gordon’s forehead pulsed. “I’ll find it eventually. With you and your daddy dead, not many people are left who could be hiding it.” He dropped mirror-Nathan, letting his face thump hard against the floor.

  Gordon shifted over to Kelly and pushed open one of her eyelids, revealing a gaping hole. “A thorough excision, as usual.”

  “To get to the reservoirs,” Mictar said, “one must open the spillways.”

  Leaving the bodies on the stage, Gordon and Mictar slowly descended the stairs to audience level, passing close to the front of the mirror. Every facial detail clarified. Mictar touched a deep scratch on his cheek. Within seconds, the wound vanished.

  A fresh cut also marred Gordon’s face, as if he had been in a fight. “We have to get to the girl’s house,” he said as he limped along. “The burglar is due to arrive in the morning. My leg should be fine by then.” As the two men headed for the exit door, Dr. Gordon’s voice faded. “That old fiddler didn’t do too much damage.”

  The sound of a car motor shook my attention away from the mirror. I peeked through the window. The blue Mustang pulled into the driveway with the gray-bearded man behind the wheel. He stepped out, holding a gun at his side.

  “We’ve got big trouble. That guy who’s been chasing me is here. And he’s got a gun.”

  The front door banged open.

  “Daddy!” Kelly screamed. “Daddy! Help!”

  The man burst into the room. As he aimed the gun at me, he pushed the door closed with his foot. “Easy enough to find you. The locals aren’t exactly tight-lipped.”

  I stepped in front of Kelly. “Leave her alone. It’s me you want.”


  “It’s also easy enough to put a hole right through both of you.” When he pulled the trigger, everything slowed to a crawl. Gunpowder flashed. Sparks flew in slow motion. The barrel expelled a brass-colored bullet that floated toward me, slowly closing the three-foot gap.

  I gasped for breath, but my lungs froze. I tried to grab Kelly and duck, but my limbs and torso locked in place. Only my eyes and brain seemed able to function at all.

  As the bullet continued its unyielding advance, I looked at the mirror. A young man clad in blue crouched next to the two bodies, a hand on each as tears trickled down his cheeks. Then the girl in red appeared within the reflection. She laid her palms on the glass from the inside.

  The mirror darkened and expanded in every direction. The dead bodies pushed out from the glass, creating a hologram that blended with reality. The lifeless Nathan and Kelly floated inches off the bedroom floor as the two rooms merged into one.

  I looked at the space between me and the gunman. The bullet moved within a foot of my chest, spinning slowly as it inched along. I mentally screamed at my body to jump, duck, collapse — anything to get out of the way.

  Just as the bullet touched my clothes, darkness spilled over the room, like jet-black paint flowing down the walls. A falling sensation overtook my senses, a plunge into a dark void. At any second my body would crash against something below. Yet, the painful thud never came, just a new sensation — lying prone on a hard surface.

  I pushed my hands forward, but they wouldn’t budge. The surface at my fingertips felt hard and cool. Had I fallen? Had the bullet struck? If so, why didn’t I feel it puncture my chest?

  Another popping noise throttled my ears. I tried to look around, but my cheek stayed pressed against a wood floor. The room slowly brightened from blackness to a gray gloom. Someone lay next to me, a female form wearing the same safari outfit the Kelly in the mirror had worn. With her face pointed the other way, I couldn’t be sure who she was.

  I waited, trying not to breathe. Maybe the gunman would think I was dead and take off, if he was still nearby. After a few moments of silence, I whispered, “Kelly? Is that you?”