Beyond the Reflection’s Edge (6 page)

“Oh, that’s too bad. Nathan probably can’t wear any of my father’s clothes. They’d be too big.”

Clara glanced at her wristwatch. “It’s still early, so I should be able to come back this evening with some things.” She placed a gentle hand on Nathan’s shoulder and turned to Kelly. “Did your father tell you about Nathan’s parents?”

Kelly’s brow turned downward. “Yes … he did.”

“Then I’m sure you’ll make him feel at home, won’t you?”

A sympathetic smile spread across her face. “You can count on me, Ms. Jackson.”

Clara kissed Nathan on the forehead. “I think you’re in good hands.” As a tear inched down her cheek, she whispered. “I’m sorry for leaving so abruptly, but I have a lot to do.”

“It’s okay. I understand.” Nathan wrapped one arm around her shoulders and hugged her briefly.

“I’ll see you tonight.” Clara waved as she strode to the Jeep.

While it backed out and zoomed away, Kelly stepped up to Nathan’s side. “So, you have a personal tutor? Must be fun.”

“Yeah, it’s pretty cool, I guess.” He watched the Jeep as it turned onto the main road. His last attachment to the life he once knew was now gone. His throat sore and tight, he forced out a few words, hoping to end the questioning without hurting Kelly’s feelings. “I don’t have anything to compare it to.”

She cupped her hand around his elbow and led him inside. “You tired?”

“Sort of.” When the Jeep disappeared, the image of the trunk on the backseat flashed into his mind. He snapped his fingers. “I left the trunk in the car.”

“A trunk? Is it important?”

“Maybe … It’s kind of hard to say.” He stepped into the foyer, which opened up into a huge sitting room with a cream-colored leather sofa and loveseat on one side, a Steinway grand piano on the other, and a crystal chandelier suspended above. The dangling crystals sprinkled tiny shivering rainbows on the walls where they tickled the faces on a half-dozen framed portraits, mostly of pleasant-looking elderly folks who seemed to grin at the sudden attention.

Nathan resisted the urge to whistle at the rich décor. Kelly’s mom must have been a pretty successful lawyer to afford all this stuff.

The breeze from the open doorway nudged the chandelier, making the crystals sway. The prismatic colors seemed to converge on the wall and spin, and the sparkles tumbled in a kaleidoscopic merry-go-round. He rubbed his eyes and looked again, but the rainbows had scattered into their former chaotic pattern.

Kelly closed the door and joined him in the piano room. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Sure.” He took in a deep breath. The aroma of polished wood blending with a hint of peanut butter carried a warm welcome message that worked to ease his tortured voice. “This place looks great.”

“Thanks. My mother really knew — I mean, really knows how to decorate.”

He caressed the piano’s glossy rosewood. “A Model B Victorian!” He glanced up at Kelly. “What is it? Seven foot two?”

“Good eye.” She nodded at the matching bench. “Go ahead. My father told me you play.”

“Well, I’m a lot better at the violin, but maybe I can remember something.” He slid into place in front of the piano and set the mirror at his side. After reverently pushing up the keyboard cover, he draped his fingertips across the cool ivory
keys. Then, with a gentle touch, he played the first measure of a Beethoven sonata. As he increased to forte, however, he fumbled through the piece, clumsily missing note after note. Heat surging through his cheeks, he stopped and cleared his throat.

Kelly’s smile widened into an impish grin. “Yeah, this house is old, but it’s completely renovated. When did you visit the Taj Mahal?”

“Taj Mahal?” he repeated while closing the keyboard cover. “Uh … my mom had a performance in New Delhi in April.” He squinted. “Why did you bring that up?”

“You brought it up first.”

Nathan rose to his feet, sliding the bench back. “
I
brought it up? What are you talking about?”

“While you were playing the piano. You said you’re glad you made it to the Taj Mahal.”

“No, I didn’t. I said I’m a lot better at the violin, but I’d try to play something.”

Kelly closed one eye. “But after that, you said —”

“I didn’t say anything after that.”

As the chandelier’s sparkles passed across her face, she tapped her chin with a finger. “I’ll bet all the stress is getting to you. If you can’t even remember saying something, you really need to get some rest.”

“But I didn’t say anything, I —”

“Your room’s this way.” Striding through the adjacent hall at a lively pace, she raised her voice. “C’mon. You’ll get lost in this house if you don’t keep up.”

He grabbed the mirror and stepped in her direction, then halted, glancing around. “Did you say your parents aren’t here?”

She shouted from a distant room. “Right. Dad’ll probably get back in about three hours after he gets stuff for your welcome
party. I’m making a special dinner tonight.” She leaned out a doorway at the end of the corridor. “Why?”

“Then we’re alone?” He edged toward the front door and reached for the knob. “I think I’d better wait outside.”

“Wait!” Kelly hurried back to the foyer, her feet slapping against the tile. “My father told me you’d have a lot of old-fashioned ideas,” she said as she grabbed his hand.

“Old-fashioned?”

She pointed at herself, her brown eyes gleaming. “Don’t think of me as a girl. Think of me as your sister.”

“But I never had a sister.”

She pulled him toward the bedroom. “And I’ve never had a brother before. You could come in handy.”

Nathan slid his hand away from Kelly’s but followed close behind as she turned through the doorway. He stopped under the lintel and stared. The room was enormous! With high ceilings and soft beige carpet that seemed to run on endlessly, his new bedroom was even bigger than the piano room! He blinked and looked again. No. The size was an illusion. A huge mirror covered the entire back wall and reflected the room’s interior, exaggerating its spaciousness. Still, it was bigger than most of the rooms he had slept in during his mother’s latest world tour, especially the closet-sized hovel he had shared with his parents while in Warsaw.

Kelly knelt and began collecting books from the floor. “Sorry about the mess. I was trying to adjust the cabinet shelves, and while I was talking to you on the intercom, the screwdriver slipped, and the whole thing fell over.”

After setting his mirror on the floor, Nathan lifted the cabinet and pushed it upright. “Don’t worry about it.” He scooped an armload of books and heaved them up to the shelves. Bending down to grab another load, he glanced back at the room’s mirror and caught the image of two teenagers collecting books from the floor.

Although the room was brightly lit by a tri-domed ceiling fixture and a lamp on a desk near the only window in the room, the reflection darkened. In the image, looming shadows stretched across their heads and backs. The books, the cabinet, and the carpet disappeared, replaced by an endless layer of dead autumn leaves. Lightning flashed, and a breeze blew the leaves into a swirl, enveloping Nathan and Kelly, along with a little girl he didn’t recognize, in a tornadic funnel.

He looked back at Kelly. There were no strange shadows in the room. No leaves. No storm. No little girl. He spun his head toward the mirror again. Everything was back to normal.

Kelly grunted as she lifted an unabridged dictionary to the top shelf. “That’s where Dad wants it. ‘Got to keep Webster handy,’ he always says. ‘You never know when you’ll need a paperweight.’”

Smiling, Nathan set a hefty world atlas next to the dictionary “Or maybe two paperweights.”

She snatched a dusty rag from a dresser and stuffed it into her jeans pocket, then spread out her hands. “So, what do you think? Pretty cool, huh?”

“Yeah. It’s nice. Roomy and … well …” He slid his hands into his pockets and shrugged his shoulders, nodding toward the desk. “I like having a desk. I read a lot.”

She stepped toward a queen-size poster bed and pulled back the comforter. “I think you’d better lie down. You’re as white as a ghost.”

He let out a sigh and nodded. Those phantom images in the mirror proved she was right. He was so tired he was seeing things.

She fluffed up the pillow and patted it invitingly. “Take a nap. I’ll wake you up when dinner’s ready.”

Nathan tried to talk through a long yawn. “Get me up right away if Clara comes back, okay?”

“I will.” Kelly’s eyes softened as she laid a hand on his shoulder.
“It may not be any help or comfort, but my dad says our home is your home. He and your dad were real close a long time ago.”

He glanced at her hand out of the corner of his eye. Her touch felt warm and good. “It helps. When Clara told me about your family it was the first time I ever heard of you, so I was kind of nervous.”

“Don’t be. I’m harmless … well, to my friends, anyway. And my dad’s excited. He always wanted a son to play basketball with.” She spread out her arms and posed like a pixie. “But all Mom and Dad could come up with was little old, five-foot-four me.”

Nathan laughed. Kelly’s comical grin, combined with her grimy cheeks and sparkling eyes, chased away his sorrows, at least for the moment. Having her as a sister promised brighter days ahead.

Kelly turned a dial on the intercom speaker next to the door. Classical music flowed into the room, a string quartet, but Nathan didn’t recognize the piece. She scooted out on tiptoes, turned off the lights, and closed the door with a quiet click. The draped window on the adjacent wall allowed the sun’s afternoon rays to filter in and wash the room with muted light, creating a host of new shadows on the floor. A fresh blotter covered the center of the desk, bordered by a fancy pen and three pencils on one side and a pencil sharpener on the other. Propped on a back corner, an eight-by-ten frame held a computer-printed message,
Welcome, Nathan
, in bold blue letters.

Nathan pressed his lips together. Kelly was really trying to make him feel at home … but it wasn’t home. At least not yet.

He pulled his wallet from his back pocket, slid his fingers into a slot inside, and withdrew a photo: his mom and dad, each with an elbow leaning against a snowman, a funny pose they had struck during a hike on Mount Shasta in California. The vibrant smile on Mom’s face both soothed and stabbed him at the same time. Dad’s silly grin made him laugh inside. A tear
pushed into each eye. He pinched the bridge of his nose, briefly closed his eyes, and laid the wallet and photo gently on the night table at his side.

Lowering his head to the pillow, he stared at the huge mirror through the space between the bedposts. In the deathly still air, the music seemed to grow in volume. A new piece began, Mozart’s Requiem Mass in D Minor — lovely, yet haunting.

The window at his side hovered in the mirror’s image as if suspended in thick liquid, gently swimming in a tight circle. As the room grew darker, his mind slumbered in a dreamlike haze. Mozart’s Latin phrases streamed in. Nathan instinctively translated the familiar lyrics, imagining the words and notes on a musical staff floating above his head.

Darkness pushed deeper into the room. Lightning flashed. A soft rumbling sound passed over the ceiling, while raindrops pecked at the glass.

The hypnotic window, a soft light in the midst of deep grays
and purples, stretched in all directions. As it filled the mirror, Nathan tried to focus on the image. Was this a dream?

The drapes covering the reflected window slowly parted. Bright light seeped through, illuminating a hand as it emerged through a gap at the window’s base. As the sash lifted, long, pointed fingernails bit into the varnish. The frame groaned, wood dragging on wood, and the gap expanded inch by inch. Soon, a face appeared, the thin, sallow face that had so recently burned an image in his mind with its hungry greedy eyes.

Mictar was trying to enter.

Nathan fought against sleep. His mind screamed at his body to wake up. This was too real. That mirror had somehow pierced his dream, warning him of an approaching murderer. He gritted his teeth and wagged his head on the pillow, but he couldn’t seem to awaken.

The specter climbed into the room, showing his thin frame in full profile. Nathan strained his eyes to find Mictar’s white ponytail, but it was no longer there. The ghostly creature turned toward him, but his face showed no bruise at all, no sign that a
violin had crashed across his cheek. He approached the reflection’s foreground, his expression void. Nathan cringed.

His eyes glowing red, the creature pointed straight at Nathan, as if he could see him through the barrier. “Beware, son of Solomon, lest you use your gifts unwisely and thereby come to calamity. If you allow grief to sway your purpose, you will perish. If you pursue vengeance, your light will drain away. If you fear, you will fail, for the power of Quattro is not to be trifled with.”