Dead Reflections (10 page)

They clinked beer bottles. Robbie lit the campfire and they sat back to enjoy it, feeling somewhat relieved.

* * *

Cory lay on his bed, agitated. Cole stuck his head around his doorway a moment later.

“You want to watch the movie with us? It’s the original
Halloween
film.”

“No.”

“What’s got you so bummed out? You said you made a friend today. Lighten up.”

Cory shrugged.

“Stay out of the laundry chute,” Cole told him. “They don’t know you were in there, but I do. That’s where you disappeared, wasn’t it? You idiot!”

Cory pushed himself up on his elbows. “I never went in the laundry chute. Why would I?”

Cole snorted. “Liar. Why couldn’t they find you then? And where else would you get coated in all kinds of crap? You went into the room down there,” he motioned with his chin towards the guest bedroom, “because you wanted them to think you’d hidden in there, except Dad had already looked. You got them into a tizzy over you.”

“I never went into the laundry chute!”

“Sure,” Cole grinned. “Sit by yourself, if you insist.” He walked away. Moments later the soft sounds of a film started up.

Cory fumed, but worse, he felt sick with his secret. How could he ever have any of them believe him, even if he could bring himself to tell them the truth? He lay back on his pillows, frustrated.

“Psst!”

Cory twisted his head towards the doorway again, angry, ready to tell Cole to frig off and leave him alone, but instead, he saw Jeffrey’s lanky old man shape standing there, his thin hair shining like spun silver in the watery moon light.

“I know how you feel,” Jeffrey whispered. “Come back down to the other room, step over for a visit, and we’ll talk.”

“They’ll notice I’m gone,” Cory said, his voice low.

“Your parents are engrossed in their campfire and your brothers will be tied up for the next two hours watching that movie. You can be back here in a few minutes. You hear them calling you, you step back out again.”

“How can I climb through a mirror anyway?” Cory insisted. “I don’t understand.”

Jeffrey smiled. “It’ll make sense to you soon. You want friends, don’t you?”

Cory nodded.

“So, you found friends. Come over any time. Even that little girl you met today. She’d like it over here.”

“How do you know about her?”

“I saw you walking with her on the street.” Jeffrey grinned. “You think I stay inside all the time?”

Cory nodded. It made sense. He thought about the dead guy in the barn today.

“Jeffrey?”

“Yeah kid?”

“Is there something wrong with the barn?”

Jeffrey studied him. “Things are only wrong if you let them be. I’ll see you in a couple of minutes.” Jeffrey slipped past the door. Cory sat on the edge of his bed, thinking about Jeffrey’s words. How could there not be something wrong with a bleeding dead guy popping up on a ladder?

Cory took his shoes off so that he wouldn’t make any sound. He scooted past Chris and Cole who were too engrossed in the movie to bother noticing him. He peeked through the corridor window. He saw his father standing by the campfire, poking logs with a long stick while his mother reclined in her chair with a glass of wine. They were occupied. He hurried through the empty room. Even the air in here smelled a little different, like leaving a city behind and catching the first aroma of a nearby ocean, only this didn’t smell like kelp. It had an odd scent, almost dusty and sweet. He reached the bathroom with its filtered light and looked at the mirror. He saw his face, his expression curious and eager, his eyes a little scared. Today, instead of lollipops and balloons, he noted that Jeffrey had left several new comic books on the counter on the other side.

He touched the mirror, feeling its cold, hard surface stick to the ends of his fingers. Then, that odd, wet warmth like touching uncooked meat and suddenly his hand pushed through. Cory climbed up onto the cupboard and squeezed through the glass. It slid over him with the sensation of tepid, wet skin and then he was in the other bathroom again. He looked back at the room he’d just vacated. He touched the mirror; it was still gummy.

“I’m glad you decided to visit.”

Cory whirled and saw Jeffrey standing in the doorway, watching him. “There’s a
Batman
, a
Fantastic Four
, and a
Strange Tales
there.” He nodded at the comics. “I’d like to introduce you to some of the others who live here. Come on; we’re having supper downstairs. We’ve put on a great meal.”

“I can’t stay too long, and I just ate,” Cory sputtered. “If my father starts looking for me again and can’t find me, he’ll be pissed.”

“Time works differently here,” Jeffrey said. “What can feel like hours here is only minutes in your house.”

Cory hesitated, puzzled, then followed Jeffrey through the room. “Why can’t I see the outside when I look through your windows? Everything looks like fog.”

Jeffrey hesitated.

“I will explain things to you in time. Come have dessert.”

Cory followed him. “I’m not really hungry.”

“Not even for ice cream?”

Cory brightened up. “Well, I guess I can eat some of that.”

“Thought so,” Jeffrey said.

They arrived at the same style of kitchen as Cory’s house. A group of four adults sat around a long wooden table, one a woman who looked odd to Cory with her hair tightly coiled around her head and her lips painted a dark red; she held a baby over her shoulder, patting the baby’s back as it fussed.

“Everyone,” Jeffrey said, clapping his hands. The room fell quiet. “This is Cory. He just moved in with his family. He’s been nice enough to come and visit us.”

Cory felt himself blush, but looked at each of the people.

“Such a cute little boy,” the woman with the baby said.

They all laughed. Cory relaxed a little. They seemed like nice folks, although
different
in a way he couldn’t quite understand. Everything about this side of the property felt unusual to him. The air seemed lighter. His ears hummed, as if some faraway machinery ran a steady engine.

“Would you like some ice cream, Cory?” an old woman asked. “I’m Ida, Jeffrey’s wife.”

“What kind do you have?” Cory asked.

“Whatever flavor you’d like.” Ida smiled at him. “What’s your favorite?”

Cory smiled back. “Strawberry.”

“Oh, that’s my favorite too!” exclaimed the woman with the baby. The baby fussed and the woman jiggled it a little. “And I’m Ruth. This is little Tamara.”

Cory saw that the baby was very young, maybe just a few months old; a little girl dressed in pink pajamas. The woman pushed a pacifier into the baby’s mouth and the baby quieted down. A man who looked to be in his late thirties and clad in a man’s silk dress shirt, dark vest, and heavy trousers lit a cigarette. His hair was greased back from the front of his head.

“Leonard here,” he said. Something about him held a hard edge. A scar floated under his left eye, like a ragged crescent moon. The last person at the table was a quiet, timid looking woman who appeared to be in her late twenties. She fiddled with a cloth napkin, sometimes looking at the group, at other times staring about the room as if lost in thought. Her dark eyes met Cory’s, looked away, then stole back to him.

“Madeleine,” she said.

Leonard with the greased-back hair stared at Madeleine and gave her a wink. Madeleine blushed and looked away. They were, in Cory’s opinion, a very odd family.

Ida spoke. “Maddy, would you be so kind as to get Cory a dish of strawberry ice cream from the icebox please?”

Madeleine hesitated, then got up without a word and walked over to a wooden box with doors. She opened the doors and reached in, pulling a glass pot from the inside and setting it down on the cupboard. She scooped a large ball of pink ice cream into a delicate-looking glass bowl—the kind of bowl that Cory’s mother called ‘her good China’—and carried it over to Cory.

“Here you are,” Madeleine said. Her voice sounded sad and sweet. Cory reached out for the bowl. His fingers touched Madeleine’s. Her skin felt icy from the scooping of the ice cream. Something about her made Cory feel very sorry for her.

“Thank you, ma’am,” he said.

“You can have as much as you want,” she said.

“Come sit at the table with us,” Ida patted a vacant chair between herself and the odd man with the dark vest.

“Go on,” Jeffrey encouraged him.

Cory did as he was told. He took a seat, aware that they all watched him as he tried the ice cream.

“This is the best ice cream I’ve ever had,” he admitted.

Ida beamed. “I made it myself.”

“Made it?” Cory asked.

“Of course,” Ida replied. “If you want ice cream, you have to make it.”

“My mother just buys it at the supermarket.”

“Supermarket,” Ida mused.

“It’s
their
way of doing things,” Jeffrey countered. “You know that. We’ve visited their place before.”

“Oh, I know,” Ida waved her hand at him.

Cory thought of Gina’s words earlier.

“Is our house haunted?” he asked.

Ruth paused, her patting hand going still against the baby’s back. Ida’s fork froze in mid-air. Jeffrey cleared his throat. Leonard cackled with laughter, as if it was the funniest thing he’d ever heard. Madeleine flushed deeply.

“Why do you think that?” Ida asked him. She glanced at Jeffrey, then at the others around the room, as if his question had amused her.

Cory felt a little stupid. “A girl I met at the store today said every family who moves into my new house always has something bad happen to them.”

“Did she?” Jeffrey asked, his face more curious than concerned. “People in small towns love gossip. Boredom fuels that gossip. This is an old house. Things are going to happen over the years. That’s not unusual.”

Ruth leaned closer to him. “It’s a nice house. Do you like it?”

Cory answered automatically. “It’s all right. I miss my old room.”

Ruth nodded. “Well, if you stay with us—” Jeffrey’s eyes flashed at her, and Ruth stopped talking. The baby fussed again.

“What she meant to say was if you visit with us, you won’t feel so lonely and you’ll soon not miss your old room,” Jeffrey finished. Ruth shook her head as if irritated and walked towards the kitchen entranceway. “Like I said, invite your new friend over with you. Then you’ll have lots of friends. Eventually, you can even invite your whole family.”

“I’m putting the baby to bed,” Ruth said, “and then I’m retiring for the evening.”

“Good night, then,” Jeffrey said to her. They listened to her high heels clack up the stairs.

* * *

“You want to see something interesting, Cory?” Jeffrey asked. “Come here with me for a moment. Come step out onto the back porch.”

Cory hesitated, remembering the impenetrable fog he’d encountered, and the lack of solid ground off the last step.

“No, it’s all right. Things are clear tonight. Come—look for yourself.”

Jeffrey opened the door to the verandah while Ida nodded at him. “He’s about to show you something special,” she winked.

Cory followed behind Jeffrey’s footsteps onto the exact same porch layout as his parents’ home, only much more old-fashioned in décor. A door stood in the center of this porch: a tall, painted, wooden carved screen door, its design ornate with flowers, vines, and leaves.

“If you could imagine being anyplace right now, where might you want to be?” Jeffrey asked.

Cory paused. “I don’t know…my old house, I guess.”

“Your old bedroom, right?”

Cory nodded.

“Push the door open and take a look. Go on.”

Cory glanced between Jeffrey and the screen door. He could see a lush green yard filled with mature trees, but curious, he did what Jeffrey instructed. As he pushed the screen door open, the backdrop of lawn and trees fell away and, instead, he saw the image of his old room appear in the ever-widening gap between the door and its frame. There was all his bedroom furniture in his old room, looking exactly like it had before the movers had arrived and packed everything up.

“How can this be?” he asked, a little frightened, yet fascinated. “Is it real?”

“Of course it’s real.” Jeffrey stood beside him. “In our world, you can have whatever you want…whatever you can imagine. That’s what I meant when I said you don’t have to feel so lonely anymore. You can be wherever you put your mind. It’s even better than playing make-believe because, here, whatever you think about can actually exist. Go on; step inside your old room. Everything’s safe. I’ll walk in with you, if you want.”

Cory reached up for Jeffrey’s aged hand. His skin was cold, hard in spots with calluses, his bones protruding against the fragile skin. They walked into Cory’s old bedroom together. The screen door remained open, as if caught on a breeze. He glanced back and saw Jeffrey’s family sitting around their kitchen table, watching them. They smiled and waved. The strange man, Leonard, gave him a ‘thumbs-up’ salute.

“Is that neat, or is that neat?” Leonard called.

Cory let go of Jeffrey’s hand and slowly walked around his old bedroom. He touched his bed covers; they were real. He felt the solid boards of his floor beneath his feet. There was his window, which had overlooked his old street. He ran to it, peered out, saw some of his old friends playing, and a neighbor hauling a can of trash to the curb.

“Hey! Eric!” Cory yelled through the window. The boy named Eric paused in his playing and looked around himself, confused.

“He might hear you, but he won’t see you,” Jeffrey cut in.

“Why not?”

“It
is
a secret. We only show our secret to special people who are willing to visit us. Now…that new girl you met today? Gina is her name. She lives up the road from you.”

“How did you know that?” Cory felt a whisper of unease roll over his skin. “Do you know her?” He supposed Jeffrey would if they’d all lived in the same neighborhood for a while.

“Yes,” Jeffrey continued. “Shut the door for a moment; then open it again. You’ll see her playing on her swing. She’s outside, swinging by herself in her back yard.”