The Mirrored World

By Meaghan Roos

More than a decade later, nearly every other factor in their lives has changed, and it seems the only things that have remained true are their unfaltering trust in each other and the existence of that same hidden light.

Now, as one of the nation’s biggest political scandals of the century rushes into front-page newspaper articles and onto television screens across the globe, Rebecca and Riley encounter an unusual man who carries the keys to the past – and to their world’s future. In this whirlwind adventure encompassing two best friends’ race to the truth, Rebecca and Riley discover the shocking power time holds through its influence on history – and how one mistake can threaten to send the lives of an entire civilization into chaos.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Write Words Inc.
• Release date: Aug 27, 2013
• ISBN: 9781613861097

Book preview

The Mirrored World

by

Meghan Roos

Published by Write Words Inc. at Smashwords

copyright 2011 Meghan Roos

Publishers Note: This is a work of fiction. All characters and events portrayed in this book are fictional, and any resemblance to real people or incidents is purely coincidental.

All rights reserved. No part of the book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Author or Publisher, excepting brief quotes to be used in reviews.

WARNING: Making copies or distributing this file, either on disk, CD, or over the Internet is a Federal Offense under the U.S. Copyright Act, and a violation of several International Trade Agreements.

Dedication

In loving memory of Grace Roos

Chapter 1

I suppose it was the year of 1963 when we first noticed it. The dark bushes clustered between two of the nearly twenty quaint little houses on our cul-de-sac always held a strange and mystical element for us kids; of course, no one dared enter the bushes further than a few feet at a time, for fear of what lived inside. The dirt and grime that was home to so many rodents and insects was no place for children to roam through at any rate, and since the paved road centered between the rows of houses was so flat and perfect for bouncing and kicking basketballs and soccer balls on, extensive exploration of the suburban jungle’s depths was rarely necessary.

Our first sighting of the light came quite suddenly, and without warnings of any kind. On that day, my best friend Riley Parker and I were walking home from a rather exciting day of the third grade. Upon leaving our elementary school, the prospect of swinging our umbrellas back and forth and leaping through puddles—which was essentially a continuation of the school day’s events—made us eager to get going. Yet with each step we took closer to home, the sky turned an uglier shade of gray as the storm that had plagued our town all day closed in for another visit. By the time we reached the end of our street, the rain was hammering down in thick, unapologetic sheets. As the wind whipped from side to side, we realized our umbrellas were virtually useless, but we clung to them and the dry concept they represented anyway as we trudged up the hill toward home.

This was in November of that year, and though harsh weather of any kind is rare in southern California, Riley and I did our fair share of shivering as the wind slipped its icy fingers up our coat sleeves and dribbled chilly raindrops down our necks. With the warm rectangular glow cast by my house’s porch light finally in view, I rushed toward the doorsteps, thinking happily of the welcoming hearth that would be lit inside the house. But a strange note in Riley’s voice stopped me.

What’s that? he asked wonderingly. I retreated a few steps and glanced at his furrowed eyebrows and confused eyes before following his gaze. It took a moment for my eyes to focus through the haze and see what the subject of Riley’s intent stare was at first, but as I took a step closer I felt my own forehead wrinkle up just as Riley’s had. There, nestled deep within the bushes by Riley’s house about 300 feet away, was a soft yellow light. As I stared, the glow turned green, then blue, then violet. The two of us stood transfixed as the light transitioned through all the colors of the rainbow and back again, altering pigments in a continuous cycle. From time to time, the light flashed, throwing a curve into its orderly pattern. But within another second it continued on again, smooth and sweet as melted chocolate.

Rebecca! Riley! I looked away quickly as a shout broke through our trance. What are you still doing outside? It’s pouring out there. I turned my head toward the house and saw my sister Sandy’s silhouette outlined in the burst of light coming through the open doorway. It was only about three o’clock in the afternoon, and on the days both of my parents went into work, Sandy took on the task of watching after me.

Coming, I called back to her. I waited for Sandy to close the door before looking back towards Riley’s house. The light was still visible, but I noticed it had grown dimmer since we had first discovered it.

What do you think it is?

I don’t know, Riley answered slowly, squinting at the fading colors. And suddenly, it was gone. We waited on the porch for a few minutes longer, oblivious to the fat raindrops still drilling our umbrellas from the sky at an astonishing rate. A shallow current began sliding and sloshing around our feet, but still the light did not reappear.

Weird, Riley commented. With a shrug and a confused grin, he moved up the porch steps and shook his boots off before going inside. After one final wondering look, I was quick to follow.

Inside, the crackling logs in the fireplace mixed with the sweet smell of cider to produce an effective tidal wave of comfort and warmth. After discarding our sopping sweat shirts and shoes, Riley and I set to work on the plate of cookies Sandy offered us, nibbling the chunks of chocolate and sugar contentedly and thawing our feet by the fire. It wasn’t long before we forgot about our strange sighting outside, and when it failed to appear on the days that followed, the entire incident faded from our immediate thoughts and memories.

Over the next few years, we spotted the light from time to time, always in the dark depths of the bushes by Riley’s house. It is likely that the strange light appeared more than the few times we noticed it, but as it was, it generally came to our attention when we were playing outside with the other kids in our neighborhood. I can recall many summer nights that I spent with my friends and neighbors, playing hide-and-seek in our younger years and basketball and soccer later on, all while the sun gracefully made its descent and led the world into times of peaceful slumber.

For two weeks each summer, my immediate family members and I took off in a teetering old motor home we rented from a shop just outside of town and traveled to the nearby Lake Vincent to enjoy fishing, hiking, and s’mores—all of the highlights of any successful camping trip. In the weeks surrounding this annual vacation, my dad left the RV parked out on the street in front of our house to give us all an additional place to spend the hot summer days. When the rare summer storms broke apart our normal daily patterns, Riley and I climbed aboard the motor home and speculated about our mysterious discovery. From glow sticks and lost miniature strobe lights to fireflies and spaceships, our imaginations took us far and wide, exploring any and all possibilities.

The last time I saw the light stands in my memory as clear as that night’s brilliant sky. It was early April of 1968, and I was just one week away from the move that would take my family and I away from my childhood home and all of my friends indefinitely. Riley and I dragged thick beach towels out onto the street and lay on our backs, staring up at the magnificent display of glittering stars. After nearly an hour of pointing out constellations and talking about anything other than my impending relocation, I saw the familiar colors spinning on the side of Riley’s house. It was my hope that night that I would see a falling star to wish upon, but with none in sight I decided the light in the bushes would suffice well enough. Squeezing my eyes tightly shut, I wished to return someday to my hometown to greet any adventures that came my way.

Of course, at that time I considered an extensive game of Truth or Dare to be an exciting adventure, but I also didn’t fully believe that wishing on an unidentified light source would be entirely effective. Looking back on all the sightings Riley and I logged into our memories, there were many things we never considered when we tried to figure out what the light was. We never thought to connect the timing of significant national or global events with our discoveries, though that was perhaps the most essential and telling aspect of the unknown light. It was a mystery, indeed.

Nevertheless, I did not spot the light again until I visited my old neighborhood for the first time five years later, in the summer of 1973.

Chapter 2

A continuous rattling rang from the roof of the train as it rocked back and forth on rusty steel tracks. Hours of traveling across the desolate desert landscape of southern California slowly counted down the hundreds of miles between Sacramento and Selanta, but Rebecca Gallagher remained attentive at her window seat the entire trip. Every turn the train made brought its passengers closer to their destination, and as Rebecca pictured her old neighborhood, she started fidgeting. Crossing one knee over the other, she bounced her foot to the beat of the song playing on the train’s radio and looked around.

There weren’t many people traveling on this Sunday afternoon. Most of the few passengers aboard looked to be businessmen, decked out in stiff gray suits and black loafers, black and brown briefcases resting by their feet. Many were deeply engaged in the news and sports sections of the daily newspaper, passing the time in one of the few ways possible on the train. Rebecca had a few magazines stashed in one of her bags, but she was too excited to concentrate on reading.

Trying to keep her mind occupied, Rebecca studied the ticket clutched between her fingers. Rebecca Gallagher, Sacramento to Selanta. As she skimmed the times printed on the ticket, her mother’s words from earlier that morning came back to her.

Honey, are you sure you want to spend the entire summer in Selanta? Anna Gallagher asked as she stood in Rebecca’s open doorway and grasped the frame. Her worried tone sent Rebecca’s eyes rolling.

Mom, don’t worry about it. Kaitlyn’s parents said it was fine if I stayed with them for a couple months. Besides, I haven’t seen most of my friends since we left. Turning her back to the door, Rebecca started tossing clothes and shoes into the suitcases spread open on her bed. She held her breath until she heard Anna shuffle down the hall, then let it out on a long sigh. In truth, it hadn’t been easy for her to make friends at her high school since she had no history with the other students, and she was anxious to return to her old friends.

There was Jamie, a voice in her head whispered gently. Rebecca’s hand shook as a wavering face appeared in her mind. She closed her eyes briefly and shook her head desperately to erase the image as she shoved another stack of clothes into her suitcase. She couldn’t think of that now. Rebecca had made an agreement with herself long ago that she would save such thoughts for their own designated time and place, and now was certainly not the time.

All I have to do is get out of here and make it to Lakeview, Rebecca muttered to herself. Then everything will be much easier.

When they reached the Sacramento station less than an hour later, tears stood in Anna’s eyes as she pulled Rebecca close for a tight hug. Before hurrying back to the car, Anna slipped some spending money in Rebecca’s pocket and whispered to her daughter. Enjoy your trip, okay Rebecca?

The train’s intercom broke through her thoughts with an energetic yelp. Next stop, Selanta! We’ll be pulling up in about five minutes!

Rebecca grinned and gathered her bags around her feet. I’ll enjoy it, all right, she thought as the train rounded one last corner and a red brick train station came into view.

Across the aisle, a middle-aged man with gelled-back hair and stiff, weathered skin looked up from his newspaper and over at Rebecca. When she caught his eye, Rebecca realized she had begun kicking the seat in front of her as her anticipation grew.

Sorry, Rebecca apologized quickly, forcing her feet to come to a rest on the floor.

The man’s features crinkled and fell into an easy smile that Rebecca suspected he sported often. It’s quite all right, he replied warmly. Excited to return home, are we?

Oh yes, Rebecca bobbed her head in answer.

The train’s squeaky brakes sounded as the train pulled into the station. The man smiled once more as he folded his newspaper. Enjoy it. Selanta is beautiful this time of year. Rebecca nodded again and smiled back before carrying her bags to the train doors. As soon as they opened, she rushed down the steps, looking all around for a familiar face. Just as she walked off the platform, Rebecca noticed a shock of magenta hair bubbling above the crowd of people waiting for their own friends and family members to arrive. She dropped her bags to the floor and opened her arms just in time to envelope her stranger of a friend.

Rebecca! Kaitlyn shrieked next to her ear as she bulldozed into Rebecca’s awaiting arms.

You have pink hair! Rebecca shouted back, shoving Kaitlyn away to get a better look.

It’s not pink, it’s purple, Kaitlyn protested, looking hurt.

Yeah, purple mixed with pink.

Oh whatever. Kaitlyn cast her eyes skyward. Better pink than this boring mocha brown thing you have going on. She rolled a lock of Rebecca’s sleek, wavy hair between her fingers and grinned mischievously. You know, I could easily help this out a bit—

"Uh-uh, you are not touching my hair, Rebecca laughed, snatching her hair back. Not after what happened the last time you came to visit."

I swear, I had no idea the blue would take so long to wash out. So is this it? Kaitlyn asked, quickly changing the subject.

Yeah, I didn’t bring much stuff.

No problemo. Follow me. Kaitlyn grabbed two of Rebecca’s travel bags and marched in the direction of the parking lot. Rebecca hoisted the remaining bags over her shoulders and hurried to catch up.

The girls traipsed halfway across the parking lot before coming to a stop in front of a beat-up 1956 Cadillac. Rebecca could barely see the mint-green color through the thick layers of dirt coating the car, and a foot-long dent cut the driver’s side door nearly in half. Nevertheless, Kaitlyn grinned wide and flung an arm out to formally present the car. Cinderella, your pumpkin awaits you!

I love this car, Rebecca said as she popped the trunk open and stuffed her bags in the back. But what have you done to it, Kat?

First off, if you are going to speak about Stella, you must call her by her name. Rebecca rolled her eyes and laughed. Second, she is perfectly fine. It’s all those other big bad cars on the road that give us trouble, right Stella?

Right. Hey, Kat, you’re not going to drive, let’s say……artistically, while I’m riding shotgun, are you?

If you must know, I haven’t had any problems in more than six months, Becca. I’m saving my art for the canvas. Kaitlyn turned her key in the ignition and grinned at the roar of the engine before cueing the radio into action. With the top down and The Beatles’ Revolution blasting, Kaitlyn aimed her car at the parking lot exit. In minutes, the girls were racing along the freeway toward their old hometown, their hair flying wildly behind them in the wind of their own making.

So really, tell me. How is everyone? Rebecca shouted into the wind.

Everyone’s doing fine, Kaitlyn responded, leaning her crooked elbow over the door as she drove one-handed. Most of the people you remember from junior high are sticking around here for school next year. Jessie’s beginning her classes at the community college in late August, Danny and Riley start at the state university around the same time, and I still have two months here before I head up to San Francisco for art school! Kaitlyn let out a yell and pumped her fist in the air. Rebecca giggled and relaxed against the leather seat back.

Have you decided what your focus in art is going to be yet?

No idea. Kaitlyn grimaced. It’s so hard to pick just one type, you know?

You were really into sculpting when I talked with you a few months ago, Rebecca reminded her.

I do love sculpture, Kaitlyn agreed. But right now I’m thinking modernist painting is my true calling. Who knows, she said, shrugging, next month I might be leaning towards pottery.

Rebecca nodded. What about you, Becca? Kaitlyn asked.

What do you mean?

What’s been going on with you?

Rebecca looked over at her friend and held her hands up. Not much. You know I never really settled into my life in Sacramento, so that makes it easy to leave behind.

What about that one kid you used to talk about? What was his name? Josh? Jamie? Yeah, it was Jamie, wasn’t it?

The smile froze on Rebecca’s face. She looked down at her hands as they curled into one tightly twisted heap on her knees. Um, yeah. Jamie. Kaitlyn looked at her expectantly. I’m just leaving Sacramento, high school, and that whole life I had over there behind me.

Kaitlyn was quiet, but when she realized Rebecca wasn’t going to say any more, she nodded. I know what you mean. Some things are better left buried in time.

Rebecca flinched at Kaitlyn’s choice of words. Yeah, she agreed quickly. She looked once more out the window and fixed her gaze on the rolling hills in front of them.

The candy-colored car flashed under a faded destination sign. Getting close to Lakeview, Kaitlyn commented.

Rebecca shivered in anticipation. I can’t wait, she murmured