main | table of contents The Reflecting Eye Copyright © 2003, S. Y. Affolee 28 Sleep Verity opened her eyes. She found herself sitting on a wooden bench, half covered with snow. Her head ached terribly and gingerly she touched the back of her head and hissed. There was a tender knot at the back, just above her neck. What had happened? Slowly, she got up, muscles aching and protesting from her previous awkward and prone position. Around her was a frosty field dotted with dead trees. There was an empty path passing nearby. Where was she? A larger street started a few yards away. She trudged toward the bus shelter on the corner. A small street sign proclaimed, “Leander Avenue.” Another sign a little further away where the path began labeled the frosty field as “Monteport Park.” How had she ended up at the southern part of the city? She reached into her coat pocket and retrieved a set of keys, her wallet, and a scrap of paper. She flipped through the wallet feeling relieved that nothing seemed out of place—that she was not robbed. The paper, which looked like it had been torn out of a notebook, simply had two words on it scrawled in an unfamiliar handwriting. “Stay away.” She felt foolish and stupid for not being careful. Glancing at her watch, she blinked briefly in disbelief. Had she really been out of it for an entire day? Had she really been sleeping on that park bench during the cold night or had the person who had knocked her unconscious put her there later? A bus rumbled down the road a moment later and she got on the nearly empty transport and told the driver to take her to the old business district. She took a seat near the front and sighed as she rested her forehead on the window. Although she saw the city passing by outside the window, she paid little attention. What had happened? She only remembered that she was at the warehouse looking for something and then someone had ambushed her. She also remembered that she had been angry that Gammell had called to cancel their evening meeting. Did he even wonder where she was last night? At the old business district at the edge of the row of warehouses, the bus stopped and she stepped off. The buildings were the same as before. The Verne Storehouse still looked closed as if she had never been inside it. She found her car and thought that it was a miracle that it had not been stolen. She was not a native of Monteport, but after reading about various crimes and the annual kidnappings in the newspapers, she was surprised that nothing worse had happened to her other than the cryptic warning she retrieved from her coat pocket. She drove back, wondering if she should even be doing that. Her head ached. Her whole body ached. She felt tired and hungry. Verity made it back home and stumbled to her front door. After the twist of the key, she was inside and the ringing of the phone immediately assaulted her senses. She winced as the pain in the back of her head grew. She picked up the receiver. “Where were you?” His voice was exasperated and annoyed and perhaps a little frantic. She had never heard him sound that way. “Good morning to you too,” she replied, feeling surly as the pain mounted. She needed to find some medicine. Or at least an ice pack. “I’ve been trying to call you ever since I got back last night. You never answered. I came by too and it looked like you weren’t home. Don’t tell me you were at the institute working.” “I wasn’t.” “Where were you?” he repeated. “And where were you?” she said. “You never saw fit to tell me what you were up to except some vague comment about something coming up. Don’t I get any answers?” “At least I told you I wouldn’t be able to make it for dinner. Where were you?” She sighed noisily, not caring that he heard her irritation. “I was at the business district. At the Verne Storehouse to be exact.” “What?” “I got bashed in the head too for snooping around. The bastard dumped me in the park and I had to find my way back by bus. Fun times.” “Verity! That’s not something to make light of. That was dangerous—you could have been killed. Why didn’t you use your common sense?” “It’s so great to know that you care about me.” He ignored her sarcastic remark. “I can’t believe you did something so stupid.” “You know what, Gammell? I am stupid. Even I can’t believe how stupid I am, especially for falling for the same old tricks again.” “What tricks…” “I’m just going to save myself by just going to sleep.” “Wait a minute, didn’t you just say you got bashed in the head? The worse thing is to go to sleep. Just hold on, I’ll come over. Let me explain.” “No. Don’t bother coming over. I don’t need any explanations.” “Verity…” She cut him off by dropping the receiver back into the cradle of the phone. Her head felt like it was about to explode. She went off to the kitchen and dumped a few ice cubes from the freezer into a plastic bag. She placed the makeshift ice pack on the back of her head and immediately her skin felt numb. She made herself climb the stairs to the bathroom. She took out a bottle of painkillers and popped two pills into her mouth. She ignored the knife lying in the wastebasket. Downstairs, she managed to make herself a ham sandwich and a cup of instant tea. Sipping the hot liquid and feeling the ice at her neck made for an odd but soothing combination. Or perhaps it was the painkillers already taking an effect on her system. At the dining table, she spotted the mirror frame and the leather pouch. Slowly she finished her sandwich and her tea and pushed the cup and dish aside. She looked at the two objects for another moment before reaching out to slide them in front of her. The whispering was back, but it was quiet and low as if it was muffled by an intervening wall. She took out the metal disk from the pouch and tilted it in the light. It reflected little of the surrounding room. The disk also looked similar in size to the frame. She flipped the frame over to the other side. The original glass at first glance looked like it had been rubbed away over time. But upon closer examination, it was actually the unpolished backing of the frame. The original glass had been removed. She turned the metal disk again and placed the dull part into the frame with the more reflective part looking outward. The whispering suddenly became louder. She looked into the mirror. Although physically, the woman being reflected was her, something struck her as wrong. She felt her shoulders shuddering and she closed her eyes. The mirror reflected something about her that shouldn’t be. She turned the mirror face down and the whispering abruptly stopped. Verity left the plates and the ice pack also on the dining room table. She went back upstairs to her bedroom. She felt so tired. Flopping onto bed, she closed her eyes again. She drifted off to sleep breathing in his scent on her pillow.