In the House of Mirrors (16 page)

There was a long pause, as if something I said had gotten to the core of her, shook her up.

“Aurelia, I'm sorry,” I said. “I didn't mean to—”

“
Johnny was my brother,” she said. “My younger brother.”

I saw tears form in the corners of her eyes. I stretched my hands across the table, and she took them into her own, after she wiped away a few droplets that escaped their wet prison. I told her everything was going to be okay, that she could tell me anything, as long it was the truth.

What she blurted out next, I didn't quite expect.

“
Ritchie?” she said.

“
Yeah?”

“
I did it.”

“
Did what?” I asked. She seemed upset. I became worried. Also, the diner wasn't exactly empty. People began to shift their eyes in our direction.

“
I burned down Boone's house,” she said.

3

I remembered asking her why it was important that she go through with the initiation.
Come Saturday, you'll see,
was her response. The look in her eye had me worried then, but I didn't think much of it. If I had to put money on who was responsible for burning the demonic church to the ground, it wouldn't have been her. I assumed she was excited to become inducted into the club, not about turning the place to ash.

A weird silence wedged between us. Neither of us knew what to say. I was too perplexed by Aurelia's confession to process any thoughts. She waited for me to say something, but no words escaped my mouth. I'd only been caught speechless a handful of times in my life, and this was one of them.

“
You'll probably never talk to me again,” she finally said. “I know you probably went to that place, looking for answers, looking for something to believe in. I've seen it before, Ritchie, written on the faces of people who go to places like that. I see it on your face right now.” She gripped my hands tight. “
Cults
. They're everywhere. They prey on weak people, Ritchie, and if there is one thing I'm sure of, it's that you're not a weak person. For what it's worth, you never belonged with those people.”

“
Aurelia, listen to me,” I said, trying to contain my smile. “I'm
not
one of those people.”

“
What?” she asked.

“
I'm not one of them. I'm not a... Satanist. I don't believe in it. I don't believe in any of it. I think it's bullshit,” I laughed. “I wasn't there because I wanted to drink the koolaid.”

Her expression changed. She looked confused, and almost disappointed. “Then why were you there?” she asked.

I explained myself, not leaving anything out, starting from what happened in Atlanta, ending with that moment in the diner, only leaving out the small details regarding my now broken camera and the monstrosities it had produced. If she was still around after the conversation we were about to have, I'd tell her. Maybe not tonight. Maybe not tomorrow. But sometime in the near future. If we were going to be a part of each others' lives, she'd have to know the truth. She'd have to know about the thing that has taken over my life—my recent obsession. I was determined to fix the damned thing. Even as Aurelia and I spoke, the camera entered my mind several times. It became a disease that slowly ate away my thoughts.

When I finished telling Aurelia how I came to be there, concluding with the recent fist fight, she let out a long sigh of relief. I wasn't sure whether to be relieved or afraid that she was going to get up and walk out, leaving me to pay for her big mug of coffee.

“That's quite a story,” she said.

“
Yeah, I know,” I told her. “You mad?”

“
Why would I be mad?”

“
Because here I am, accusing you of being a liar because you told me you worked at Benton when clearly you didn't, and really, all the while, it was me who lied to you; pretending to care about your ceremony when really I wanted to get closer to Olberstad.” Admitting this soothed me.
But the feelings between us are real,
I wanted to add, but didn't.

“
You weren't following me, were you?” she asked. “The bookstore? The park? Those were coincidences, right?”

“
Yes,” I laughed. “That was fate spinning its wheels, I'm afraid.”

I chuckled and she joined me.

“It's kind of weird. Looking back at it. You were there for one reason, unrelated to Satan worship,” she said. “And I was there... well, for
another
reason unrelated to Satan worship,” she added solemnly.

“
Why were you there, Aurelia?” I asked. “Who was your brother? What's his relationship with Geoffrey Boone? And why did you burn down that house in the woods?”

She took a deep breath. I could tell she wasn't fully prepared to retell the tale of her brother's past, but it was the reason why—or so I thought—she asked to meet me. She wanted to tell someone. She confided in me about starting the fire, and that was before she knew I wasn't interested in becoming a member of the Order of the Black Book. I felt like we held a special bond, that we could tell each other anything. That we could help each other with everything. I suddenly wanted to tell Aurelia about the camera, although my better judgment told me not to.
In good time. All in good time.

“
My brother was a patient at Benton, but you already know that. He was in there with Geoffrey Boone. They were... friends, if that's what you want to call it.”

\“What happened?”

She looked at me, wetness filling the rims of her eyes. “Geoffrey Boone murdered my brother Johnny, and that's why I burned down that
fucking
house.”

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Our food arrived before Aurelia began the story of her brother, Johnny Anderson, and how he met his demise at the hands of Geoffrey Boone. My appetite had been lost somewhere between Olberstad kicking my ribs in and Aurelia's enlightening confession. My body ached all over; I felt like I had been hurled off the top of a building and plummeted to the streets below. It hurt to rest my back against the cushioned booth. Every bone, every muscle burned as if I had never used them before. I was in bad shape, but I managed to lessen the pain by immersing myself into Aurelia's story, concentrating on her lips, rather than the invisible meat tenderizers that pounded my body.

“Johnny was a good kid growing up,” she told me. “My parents died in a car crash when we were in high school, and Johnny... well, he didn't deal with it so well. Most kids wouldn't, I think, and hell—I didn't deal with it particularly well either, but... I was able to keep it together for the most part. I was able to be strong, for
us
, because we only had each other after that. We were forced to move in with our aunt, who lived in Red River. We only lived in Paramus our whole lives, and the adjustment was hard. The only time we came to the shore was during the summer, just to visit our relatives and take family trips to the beach, which I was never too fond of.” She took a big bite from her egg sandwich, which had been saturated in ketchup. “Anyway, the transition was more difficult for Johnny than it was for me. He lashed out in school often, earning him countless hours in detention. He fought with my aunt and uncle all the time. He constantly used to sneak out of the house, go out drinking and smoking cigarettes, not coming home until the following morning without letting my aunt and uncle—or me—know where the hell he was. The police were regulars at my aunt and uncle's. We knew most of the officers by name.” She paused, reflecting on these dismal times. “He just stopped caring after they died.” She stared down at her coffee, and became lost in it. A minute later, she found her voice again. “The first time he was committed to Benton was after he attempted to kill himself. He slit his wrist with a steak knife. Our cousin, Tammy, only thirteen at the time, found him on his bed, bleeding onto the floor...”

2

He was sitting in his chair, flipping through a deck of playing cards, waiting for the time to pass. Time passed differently here, much slower. Maybe it was the lack of stuff to do, or maybe it was the drugs that were so consistently administered that made the time drag. Minutes seemed like hours. Days felt like weeks. It was a wonder more people didn't try to off themselves in places like this, for the sheer boredom of it all. Day in, day out, everything was the same. There were few breaks from monotony. The food changed from time to time, but even on a week to week basis, everything became repetitive. Tuesday was always taco day, and on Friday they always served fried chicken. The place had a zest for alliteration when it came to foods and days of the week. Seldom were there breaks from the norm.

Today, fortunately for Johnny Anderson, was one of those days.

He flipped through the deck of cards, weeding out every ace from the pile. He set them down on the table in front of him, next to each other. His father—when he was alive—taught him how to play solitaire, but between all the drugs, the alcohol abuse, and the disillusions that plagued his mind daily, the rules and regulations of the classic card game had gotten lost in that muddled brain of his. Frustrated, he threw the remaining cards into the air. They scattered like autumn leaves, and Johnny had no intention of playing another game his father taught him—fifty-two card pickup. A few of the other guests gasped while some of the more eccentric clients pointed and hollered, as if they had seen the funniest thing in the world happen. A nurse—“Riggins” her name tag read—strolled over to the table where Johnny sat, staring at the four aces as if they were mortal enemies.

“
Now, Johnny,” she said. “What seems to be the problem?”

“
Nothing, Nurse Riggins,” he replied. “I had an accident.”

“
Well... let me help you clean it up.” The nurse bent down and started picking up the cards, stopping after she gathered about half the stack. “Aren't you going to help me, Johnny?”

“
No, Nurse Riggins.”

“
Why not?”

“
Because, I don't feel well,” he replied.

“
Do we need a nap before your sister comes to visit?”

He craned his head toward the nurse, looking confused. “Aurelia is coming to visit today?” he asked, not seeming too happy to hear the news. “No, I won't see her.” He shook his head back and forth a few times until Nurse Riggins stopped him by putting her hands on his shoulders.

“You love your sister, Johnny. Don't you?”

“
Love her? No, not at all. Aurelia is the reason I'm in here, the reason why I'll never get out.” He turned his head toward the floor, like a scolded child.

“
Johnny,” the nurse began, “we both know you're in here because of
you
, and not anyone else.”

“
Aurelia—she never cared about Mom and Dad's death. She... shrugged it off. She didn't even cry at their funeral. She just... she has no soul. She's not my sister. I do not wish to see her.” He pouted his lips.

“
I'm going to get you something to help you calm down, Johnny,” the nurse told him. “I'll be right back.”

Johnny heard her footsteps fade and when the sound of her heels clanking against the vinyl floor completely vanished, Johnny glanced up. In front of him, sitting directly across from him, was a kid he had come to know inside Benton. It was Geoffrey Boone, a real lunatic according to most of the other patients. They feared Geoffrey and avoided him at all costs. He babbled to them about nonsense things, trying to infect their brains with filth, which would only prolong their visit to the Benton facility. Johnny, however, liked Geoffrey. Respected him. Even admired him. He was entertaining,
especially
when he was babbling about weird things, such as alternate worlds and the secrets he knew of how to unlock the portals between them. Geoffrey was one cracked egg, but that didn't stop Johnny from holding long conversations with him and considering him to be a friend, if there ever was such a thing in a place like this.

“
Have you thought about my offer?” Geoffrey said. His smile stretched from ear to ear, making himself look like a car salesman from Hell. “Silly me. I know you've thought about it. Will you... accept it, that is the question.”

“
You really are crazy,” Johnny said confidently.

“
Crazy as a horse. Now listen up sugar lips—because time is
not
on our side. Will you do it? Will you do what I ask?” Geoffrey asked, holding his hands together in prayer. “Don't make me get on my knees. I mean, I'll do it if I have to, but—”

“
Give me one more day,” Johnny said.

Geoffrey flailed his arms about, the smile still plastered to his prickly face, and shifted in his chair, as if he were going into convulsions. “One more day?
One more day?”
he almost shouted. A passing nurse stopped in her tracks and put her hands on her bulbous hips, tilted her head down, and gave him the stink eye, a method which usually worked with most of the other patients. “Sorry!” Geoffrey yelled at her. “Nothing to see here! Just having a...
normal
conversation with my friend here! Everyone go about your business! Nothing to see here!” he yelled to the entire room.

The nurse shook her head and told Geoffrey to calm down, or his behavior would earn him a dose of medicine, which meant he'd spend the next few hours drooling in a corner somewhere.

When she left, Geoffrey leaned over the table and whispered, “One more day?”

“
It appears my sister is coming to visit. I might be able to convince her to talk to the docs. Maybe she can make them see that I'm okay again.”

Geoffrey shook his head in disapproval. “No, no, no. You're... crazy man! You tried to...” He pretended to saw through his wrist with an invisible blade. “They're not going to let you go. Not yet. Come on, man. No, you have to do this. You have to come with me. It'll all be worth it. I promise,” he said, grinning wildly.

“One more day.”

“
That's all you're gonna get, you skinny little prick! Eat some food. Tomorrow is Taco Tuesday!” he yelled, not just to Johnny, but to the entire room of crazies. “Here comes your company,” he said, nodding to the other side of the room. “Oo-la-la!”

Johnny turned his head and saw his sister, along with Nurse Riggins, entering the vast room.

“Pretty little thing,” Geoffrey stated.

“
She wasn't supposed to be here until later.”

“
Well, the earlier the better.”

“
Geoffrey?” Johnny asked. “Is it real? The place you described. This...
other
world.”

“
Oh, yes,” Geoffrey said, with the most serious face that Johnny had ever witnessed him display. “Very much so. And the guy who runs it... puts on a helluva show.”

3

“Look who's here to see you, Johnny,” Nurse Riggins said, as they approached the table where he sat by himself.

Johnny turned his head, slowly, without much energy. “Hello, sis,” he muttered. His displeasure was obvious and direct.

“It's good to see you too, brother,” Aurelia said. “Thank you,” she told the nurse, and Riggins left them to attend to a group of patients, who were being riled up by Geoffrey's recent antics. “Who is that character?” Aurelia asked, nodding to the center of the commotion. Geoffrey was standing on top of a chair, while others gathered around. He was muttering some nonsense, holding a Bible up in the air. He appeared to be blessing the other patients.

“
No one.” Johnny would not look her in the eye. Instead, he found specks on the wall to hold his concentration. “It's been a while, sis.”

“
Almost a year.”

“
Almost a year,” he repeated, as if he had said the words first. “And what were you doing instead of checking in on your little brother this past year?”

“
Same thing I've been doing the past few years, John. Going to school,” she told him.

“
And that's more important than trying to get me the hell out of here?”

“
We've discussed this, John. On the phone. Remember? You're not well enough. The doctors and nurses are doing everything they can to help you, but
you
have to help
them
too. If you want to get out of here any time soon.”

“
Who do you think you are?” Johnny asked. “You're not my fucking mother.”

Tears began to sting Aurelia's eyes. She wanted nothing more than her brother to get better, to hopefully one day lead a normal life. Things were not looking good for him. Since the last time she saw him, he looked worse. He appeared to have lost a lot of weight. His body was frail, looking like Jesus on the day He was crucified.
What were they feeding him in here?
she asked herself. Couldn't be much from the looks of it.

“
I want access to my share of the money,” Johnny said.

Aurelia almost laughed. “What in God's name are you talking about?”

“The money from Mom and Dad's death. I want my share. I know they had life insurance. I heard Uncle Frank talking about it. I want my half. I'm entitled to it.”

“
How do you think we're able to afford your stay here?” Aurelia asked. “You think these people are letting you stay here out of the goodness of their hearts? This is a place of business. They are here to make money.” Aurelia shook her head. “Plus, how exactly would you spend money in here anyway? I don't see any stores around here.”

Johnny pulled a cigarette out from his breast pocket, put it between his lips, and lit it up. “Well at least I don't have to pay for cigarettes.”

“No,
I
do,” Aurelia said. She reached across the table and pulled the cigarette out of his mouth, and stamped it out in the overfilled ashtray that rested on the table between them. “I didn't put you in here so you could
slowly
kill yourself.”

“
You're such a fucking cunt,” he muttered.

“
I don't know why I love you,” Aurelia told him. “Mom and Dad would be fucking ashamed of you and what you've become.”

“
And what's that, dear sister?”

She got up from the table and leaned in to whisper in his ear. “A fucking ungrateful asshole,” she said, and walked away from him, without looking back. “See you in another year.”

“Aurelia!” Johnny called to her, as she headed toward the door. She did not turn around. “Don't leave me in here!” She did not stop, did not look back. His sister reached the door and opened it, walked through without even thinking twice about it. “Don't you fucking leave me in here!” he yelled, which caught the attention of some nurses, forcing them to come running to his aid. He pushed the nurses aside as he tried to follow his sister, toward the door. One of them called for help and a security guard with biceps the size of Johnny's waist came trotting over. Johnny pushed one of the nurses to the floor, and the blubbery woman landed on her massive rump. The security guard tackled Johnny as if he were a running back heading toward the goal line in the Superbowl. It wasn't a hard task; Johnny's feeble body hit the floor with a thud. He began to scream, telling the guard that he was going to sue him if his arm was broken. The guard subdued the wild man, who screamed for his sister to come back, to take him away from this hellhole.