The Egyptian Mirror by Michael Bedard

Author:Michael Bedard
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Pajama Press Inc.
Published: 2021-07-15T00:00:00+00:00

21

On Monday, Abbey came by, math text in hand, to quiz Simon for the final exam next week.

“So where’d you hide it?” she asked as she closed his door quietly behind her.

He slid the mirror out from under the mattress.It was the first time Abbey had seen it in the light of day. She turned it back and front, buffed it on the sleeve of her shirt till it gleamed. She held it up in front of her and ran her eyes over it.

“It’s beautiful,” she said, “but I can’t see anything magical about it.”

“Sometimes it’s there, and sometimes not,” he said. There was dirt caked in the folds of the figure that formed the handle and the design of the eye incised on the face. She picked at it with her fingernail. As she went to hand the mirror back to him Simon caught sight of his reflection in its polished surface.

A figure peered one-eyed over his shoulder.

He whirled around—just as Abbey let go of the mirror, thinking he had it. It fell with a clang to the floor.

“Everything all right up there?” Mom called up the stairs.

“Just dropped a book,” he said, scooping up the mirror and sliding it back under the mattress. There was a dint in the hardwood where the mirror had struck it edgewise. He slid the fringe of the rug over it as Mom’s footsteps sounded on the stairs.

When she opened the door, they were sitting by the window, poring over the math text. “Would either of you like something to eat?” she asked. Her eyes darted around the room, looking for signs of damage.

“No, we’re fine,” they said, feigning innocence as they looked up from the book.

She made a point of leaving the door open behind her as she left the room. For a while they worked their way through the review exercises in the back of the book, Simon trying to coax his brain down paths it didn’t want to take.

With the door open, it didn’t take long before Babs wandered in with one of her puzzles. She dumped the pieces on the floor, flipped them right side up, and assembled them with lightning speed.

“You’re really good at that, Babs,” said Abbey.

“Don’t encourage her,” he warned. But it was already too late. In a matter of minutes, the floor was strewn with puzzle pieces, and the math review was a distant memory.

It was Babs who heard it first—a low rumbling noise outside that rattled the window. As she ran to look out, a large truck came creeping along the street and drew up to the curb in front of the Hawkins house. Intercontinental Movers, read the writing on the side. Long-distance Moving Specialists.

“It’s them,” he said, a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach.

Three men in uniform with matching caps emerged from the cab of the truck and went around to the back. One of them unlocked the sliding door of the box trailer and shivered it open on its track.

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