The Glare by Margot Harrison

Author:Margot Harrison
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Hachette UK
Published: 2020-07-13T23:00:00+00:00

“What’s ‘mixed reality’?” I ask Dad.

“Who told you about that?”

“A friend.”

“A cute friend?” Erika shoots me a shy smile. She sits touching elbows with Dad, wearing a flowered sundress, both of them relaxed in a way I haven’t seen before.

To celebrate the first week of school, Dad left work early so we could all go to a movie. “They’re running it on thirty-five and not digital, so your mom won’t mind,” he told me with a wink, then explained about the different kinds of projection.

We walked under trees strung with lights to the downtown theater, where we watched a black-and-white movie about a haunted house. I kept having to close my eyes and remind myself it wasn’t real. Scary books I can deal with, but seeing a ghost float through a hallway or hearing it rap on a wall made me jump every time.

Now, sitting on the outdoor terrace of the ice cream shop, I still feel woozy from my jangled nerves, like one of the surfers at Stinson Beach after a wipeout.

“In mixed reality, real and digital objects interact,” Dad says. “Very hot field in the gaming and simulations industry. So, for instance, if you were looking through your phone, and you saw a sparkly purple goblin sitting right there”—he indicates the nearest table—“it would be mixed reality. Either that, or you’ve gone batshit.”

I wince. Someone called Emily that.

Erika nuzzles against Dad and reprimands him for his language. Deprived of his phone and tablet for the evening, Clint is busy ramming a tray of sugar packets against a saltshaker and making boom smash noises.

“Mike,” Erika asks, “have you called Marnie Golden yet? The Realtor?”

They start talking about some property that Erika wants Dad to sell so they can have more “liquidity.” I half listen, watching Clint shoot a finger gun across the terrace.

“I’m zapping the purple goblin,” he tells me.

I point my own finger gun. “Bam bam! You’re dead.”

Clint giggles. “I’m beating level thirteen.”

Did he pick that up from Rory? “There’s no level thirteen,” I say sharply.

Clint drops his eyes, and I feel a pang of guilt.

Erika complains that the property up north is going to waste, but Dad assures her they won’t need extra cash once he signs the contracts on his latest project. “Don’t worry, I can feed the college funds and still cover the day-to-day.”

My head jerks up. Funds plural? Is he planning to send me to college for real?

Erika pats my hand. “Are you okay, Hedda? You jumped about a dozen times during the movie.”

My face goes hot, because no one else seemed scared, not even Clint. But I know the experience will stay with me, disturbing my sleep, if I don’t talk about it. “It was just… once you were inside that house, it felt like there was no outside. It was like being in hell. Where would anyone get an idea like that? Why would they put it up on a screen for everybody to see?”

“I wonder that myself,” Erika says, while Dad says, “To exorcise inner demons.

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