The People in the Mirror (11 page)

  How was he? My thoughts went around and around in a worried circle.

  “It seems he might have called and let us know how things went,” Mom said, speaking my thoughts.

  “He may be embarrassed,” Dad suggested. “It’s possible we won’t see him for awhile.”

  That brought me out of my introspection. Dad was right. Mitch was proud – I didn’t know much about him yet, but I
did
know that. “Do you think he won’t want to see
me
?”

  “Oh, Pumpkin Pie, I’m sure he’ll
want
to see you, but he may be too embarrassed for awhile. Be patient – let him figure it out in his own way, in his own time. I mean, as long as it all comes out right in the end, that’s all that matters. Your Mom and I certainly don’t bear him any grudge. But you have to admit, it’s not a usual situation.”

  “Well, I should hope not,” Mom nodded emphatically. “Neighbors robbing you blind. There’d be no society if that were
usual
.”

  Obviously, Mom did not share Dad’s complete coolness with the situation. She was angry. There was a good chance she’d say something to Mitch if he
did
come by, before she got over it. I went from wishing with all my heart that Mitch would call or stop by, to hoping with all my might that he
wouldn’t
for a few days until things settled.   As long as everyone kept saying Mitch couldn’t be held responsible for something he didn’t know about, I believed it’d eventually be okay. And I’d be okay with Mom being all weird if she wanted to hold him responsible in some way
–
as long as she kept it to herself.

*   *

  I got my wish. For days I didn’t hear or see sight or sound of anyone in the neighboring apartment. Eventually Dad asked if we’d had seen or heard Mitch or his mother. Mom and I shook our heads.

  Then Dad knocked me for a loop by saying, “maybe they’ve moved.”

  My heart sank. It
was
a possibility. “But if they were living here rent-free,” I argued, “
could
they leave?”

  Dad gave me a studied look, like, when’d you get so smart? “You make an excellent point. But if they’re there, they sure know how to lie low. And if they moved, they could hardly take anything down this hall without us being aware of it. They might have gone to stay with someone, though. Until the dust settles.”

  “Days go by without seeing most of our neighbors, and we don’t think anything of that,” I said.

  “True,” Dad agreed. “So they’re probably still there, you’re right.”

  The idea of Mitch having moved without even saying good-by stuck in me like a painful sliver. Could he do that? Would he? What if I never saw him again? Why didn’t I just go knock on his door? Why was that so hard for me? One reason was because I had called him and texted him several times, and he did not answer. Anyway, never mind the phone. I wanted to
see
him!

  The next day I was so miserable, I decided I had to take action. I  knew what I had to do. After school I didn’t even stop at my apartment, I went straight to his door and knocked. It took every ounce of my courage. I stood in front of the peep hole so that, if anyone was there, they’d know exactly who was on the other side of the door.

  No one answered, but I heard a faint stirring inside. I waited a full minute, then knocked again. And stood my ground.

  Finally the door opened a crack, with the chain on. It was dark on the other side of the door, and I could not make out anyone.

  “What do you want, little neighbor girl?” a woman’s voice asked. It was thick with the accent I loved about Mitch’s voice, although his was much less pronounced. The sound caught in my heart.

  “I want to talk with Mitch.”

  “He is not here.”

  “Where is he?”

  “I don’t know. He has been gone for days.”

  “You don’t know? Aren’t you worried about him?”

  “He can take care of himself. He knows what he’s doing. He’s at a... what’s it called, crossroads. It’s his journey. He’s in God’s hands.”

  “Well,
I’m
worried about him.” I have no idea what made me so strong that I could carry on this confrontational conversation with his mother. But I was strong.

  “Then you should go find him. If you are meant to find him, you will.” With that, she closed the door and threw the lock.

  I stood there disappointed and confused for a few moments and the I realized that of course I knew where he was. I just had no idea how to get there.

  I walked slowly back to my apartment, trying to sort out how to make the next move. Inside, the place was very quiet. Mom left a note on the entryway table.

  “Getting some groceries. Be back soon.”

  Something came over me that I had never felt before. I opened the drawer and pulled out the extra set of Mom’s car’s keys. I dug in my wallet to make sure I had the driver’s license I got in the summer just before we moved here and that I had almost never had the opportunity to use. There it was, just waiting, it seemed, for this moment.

  I slipped out the door and crept down the hall to the stairs, then flew down the seven flights of stairs. The stairs came out beside the elevators, and beside the doorway from the stairs was a back door to the parking structure. Just a quick turn out one door and through the other – I prayed that Homer was facing the street.

  At the bottom of the stairs I paused, caught my breath. If Homer saw me, I wasted to seem calm. It’d be enough to have to explain why I took the stairs. Just exercising, Homer.

  I opened the door, stepped out. Homer had his back to me talking to the tiny woman with the yippy dog I’d seen – and heard – every now and then. Homer was trying to be heard over the dog’s shrill noise. I stepped through the back door, ran into the parking structure, fumbled with the keys, dropped them. picked them up. Got in the car, started it and then asked my self, “What do you think you’re doing, Nikki?”

  But I didn’t have time to answer. I had to move, or I would lose courage. Or whatever this weird emotion was that made me suddenly act completely out of character.

  I had never, ever, ever done anything even remotely like this in my life. When I we as little girl, a friend of mine said she was going to run away from home. She’d packed a little suitcase and everything. I couldn’t imagine how she could even
think
of doing such a thing. I asked her where she would go, what she was going to eat, where she would sleep, what her parents would think, they would be so worried.

  And now I’d basically stolen my mother’s car and didn’t even leave her a note. Oh – I had really become crazy!

  I was glad it wasn’t dark yet so I could get my bearings. I tried to remember exactly the route Mitch had driven when he took me to his underground hideaway. We’d started from the theatre about half-a-mile away. So I went to the theatre, and then worked out the same initial turns he took. I remembered that he then went quite a distance on a road that wasn’t very busy. So I followed what I thought he’d done.

  About twenty minutes later, I saw familiar terrain, as the sun made its way below the western horizon. I pulled onto the grassy knoll, stopped the engine and gripped the steering wheel. Courage, Nikki, I told myself. You’ve come this far, don’t wimp out now!

  I got out a flashlight and started to prowl around in the fast falling darkness. The place looked completely abandoned, not even Mitch’s car was there. I felt spooky. I knew I ought to text Mom, who was surely becoming alarmed. But I dare not stop. I had to find that rabbit hole in the earth before darkness fell completely. A loamy, earthy scent rose up from the damp ground, and a cool breeze buffeted around me. It made me feel as if I didn’t exist.

  Then I almost fell into the hole before I saw it. Carefully I went down a couple of steps. It did not feel as though anyone was there, other than the two-dimensional Millie, on the billboard, eternally, gazing skyward.

  I continued to the bottom of the stairs, the musty aroma rising up around me. I walked cautiously on the wooden sidewalk, the beam of my flashlight barely giving me enough light to see my next step. I came to the house Mitch had shown me before, and went up the steps, peered around in the foyer. But no Mitch. I began to wonder how I could have been so wrong about where he was. I knew I ought to turn around and hurry home.

  But I couldn’t resist continuing, now that I was here. I followed the wooden sidewalk further into the underground Victorian Seattle, without any idea of how far the sidewalk might continue, without any idea if it was safe to walk on these ancient, damp planks. The sidewalk continued on, fading into an impenetrable darkness.

  I passed a part of another house, and that was when I decided I really must turn back. That was also when I heard the soft-footed step of someone in the near distance. Fright ran through me like electricity. What if there was someone I
didn’t
know down here? It was entirely possible. Just because Mitch discovered this place didn’t mean others hadn’t.

  I tried desperately to hold my breath and to make myself invisible, shrinking up against the wall of the house. How strange and unreal this whole situation! If anything happened to me, no one would ever find me until they discovered Mom’s car – if even then.

  Whoever was walking on the sidewalk in the darkness was very nearly upon me. The strong beam of a high-powered flashlight played on the wooden sidewalk. The person walked at a slow, thoughtful pace, obviously not looking for young women to pounce upon. I  honestly wanted to shriek like every high school girl in every horror movie. But I kept my silence, my heart pounding.

  And then – I made out Mitch’s face in the faint, shadowed light, and the breath flowed from me audibly.

  It was Mitch’s turn to be scared out of his wits – clearly not expecting any girls to pounce upon
him
. “What the... who is that?” He flashed the light in my eyes. “
Dominique?
What are you doing here?”

  “Shopping for oranges,” I answered in a sudden fit of silly.

  Mitch heaved a huge sigh. I couldn’t tell if it was a recouping equilibrium sigh, or a sigh of depression. “No oranges down here this time of year.” He walked up to me, but kept an uncomfortable distance between us.

  “I can’t believe you’re here.” He seemed angry, and after the intense emotions I’d been going through all day, I was afraid I was dangerously close to bursting into tears.

  “I’m here,” I answered in a little, quavery voice.

  “Well, come on, let’s sit on the porch.”

  We sat on the bottom step, Mitch still staying a couple of feet away. “Now tell me
–
why are you here?”

  “I haven’t seen you in days. You don’t answer your phone, you don’t answer my texts. I don’t know why you’re hiding from me. I’m not angry with you, my parents aren’t angry with you. I know a lot has happened, and I can understand you need to spend some time alone. But don’t you know I’m going crazy not hearing anything, not knowing anything about you?”

  Mitch shook his head, studying the wooden planks beneath his feet. “I don’t know what I thought, or what I thought you thought. I’ve just been trying to make my guilt go away. My mother needs me too, but I just can’t stay in that place right now. There’s so much you don’t know, that I don’t
want
you to know. Please, please – let it alone. Let’s at least keep the memory of that one perfect evening. My uncle, my family, my heritage are going to haunt me. I can’t get away from it. I can’t have a future apart from them, a future that’s moral and good. Crime is my birthright.”

  “What incredible nonsense.” I moved closer to Mitch and took his hand. “You can be anything you want, you can do anything you want. I know you’re good. You’re not responsible for what your uncle did – no one holds you responsible for what he did. You didn’t know your uncle committed a crime, so stop feeling guilty.”

  “You’re wrong.”

  “What do you mean?” I felt my heart sink... I was about to hear something that would cause me worse pain yet.

  “Please, Nikki, do not insist.”

  “Well, I
do
insist, if it’s something that’s coming between us, you have to tell me.”

  “I
did
know what my uncle had done. He’s been talking about hitting your apartment for months. He was going to do the job while the place was vacant. He didn’t know it’d been sublet, and he’d planned to do the job the first week you folks moved in. You see now what I’m trying to deal with? I knew he was going to rob you, and I didn’t do anything. I did return your ring, though. Boy, I thought he was going to come unhinged when he couldn’t find it, but I just couldn’t let him keep it when it meant so much to you.”

  I felt my whole body tighten. Now I understood what Mom meant when she said she felt violated by the robbery. Here was this person who pretended to be interested in me, who pretended to be my friend. But he wasn’t. He was an accomplice to a crime.

  Suddenly I was standing, although I didn’t know I’d moved, and my whole body trembled. “You
knew
and you didn’t do anything to stop it? How could you pretend to be a friend while knowing who had committed this horrible, invasive, crime? I thought you liked us, I thought you cared about me. Never mind me, I thought you respected my parents. But I guess you must really hate us, you must be jealous, because we’re a real family, and all you have is some abusive uncle you can’t get away from. That is, until the police came and took him away.”

  I moved away from the porch. “I can’t believe it. Everything else I could handle, the robbery, the fact that it was your uncle who robbed us, that fact that you disappear and don’t even give me a call – all that I could take. But the idea of you laughing at us, when you’re an accomplice to a crime, it’s
too much
. Shame on you! Really, shame on you!” I had burst into tears, blinded with the pain of being so wrong about Mitch. Was I going to stay stupid all myI life, or did I just have to stay away from getting close to
anyone
?