Read Online Backward Glass by David Lomax - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: David Lomax
Tags: Science-Fiction, Fantasy, YA), Time travel, Young Adult Fiction, Young Adult, teen, teen fiction, ya fiction, teen lit
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often that it had aged more in six months with me than it had in all those years inside the wall—however many they were. But what could I do? Short of going missing for a few days, I couldn’t make it further back than 1967. None of us knew what auby meant. Luka brought word that Keisha had found a reference to a John Wald in some eighteenth-century book on magic as a kind of mystery man in the north of England who saved children from fires and drowning, but what good was that? Why would I ever describe this or any John Wald as an auby one?
Jimmy grew on us. The kid had never met a shadow he wasn’t scared of, but his wide-eyed wonder and open-mouthed gullibility made it fun to tell him all kinds of things, both true and otherwise, that the future would bring. I once had him convinced that Luka was actually a clone, and that the real Lucy Branson controlled this body from the safety of her own time.
In June we finally had a four-way meeting. Melissa lied to her parents about going to a friend’s for a sleepover, then came back to Luka’s time, while Luka, having told the same kind of lie the previous day, waited in mine. Then I went back to 1967 to get Jimmy, and Luka went up to 1987 to pull Melissa through. As long as she didn’t leave the mirror in her own time, Luka could keep it open to 1977. They all slept in the carriage house that night, and I met up with them the next morning, a Sunday for me.
It was my first time meeting Melissa, but still I felt like I had my three best friends with me.
We sat on my sun-warmed driveway and Luka and I did our act of reading out the newest pages of the journal that I had puzzled out, she over-acting as Rose and me as Curtis. Some of the early pages were dull, so I chose something that began on our exact date, sixty years before.
June 7, 1917
Mother says I’m getting fat and that’s just fine by her. “Nothing like a plump, healthy girl.” She says it in a sing-song voice while she cleans or does dishes. I tell her my stomach has been hurting. I want her to take me to the doctor. He would tell her. Then we would know and we would not have to continue in this lie.
But she won’t. She is hateful in her cheerfulness.
June 9, 1927
Lillian told me a ghost story. It’s about a bad man called Prince Harming. Well, not a ghost story but a scary one. This Prince Harming lost his own soul a long time ago when he killed his brother. He did it when he was a baby, strangled the other baby in the crib or something. Now he tries to kill children because if he kills the right little boy, he can eat his soul.
Mother got angry again at nothing, so I went to the creek to the cave that used to be Rose and Clive’s and just stayed there for a long time and was sad. I scratched my initials into the wood next to theirs so at least it will make a difference to something that I was alive.
July 10, 1917
Now I see her plan. For weeks playing up my ill health. She insists I dress in heavy layers. Is she hiding it from herself or me?
In any event, yesterday she announced that I must move to the carriage house for my health. It is too dusty in the main house. We are much fallen, she says, from earlier times. There will be no more carriages or horses for Holleriths, so we might as well make use of it as a real property, and I will be her little pioneer, she says, though I simply must come over for breakfast. She has it all planned out.
Curtis came back again. Always angry. Mother hit him, he says. Caught him stealing biscuits from the pantry. He says she is forever shouting about one thing or another. I ask if it’s me she’s shouting at, but he doesn’t like to talk about me. He says I don’t visit.
I complained about all the work it was to puzzle out the old handwriting, but Luka said I should go on. “At least you’re finding some stuff out. It’s driving me crazy that we can’t get back to those times. I can’t wait for summer.”
I stood up and flapped my arms against the
Jimmy grew on us. The kid had never met a shadow he wasn’t scared of, but his wide-eyed wonder and open-mouthed gullibility made it fun to tell him all kinds of things, both true and otherwise, that the future would bring. I once had him convinced that Luka was actually a clone, and that the real Lucy Branson controlled this body from the safety of her own time.
In June we finally had a four-way meeting. Melissa lied to her parents about going to a friend’s for a sleepover, then came back to Luka’s time, while Luka, having told the same kind of lie the previous day, waited in mine. Then I went back to 1967 to get Jimmy, and Luka went up to 1987 to pull Melissa through. As long as she didn’t leave the mirror in her own time, Luka could keep it open to 1977. They all slept in the carriage house that night, and I met up with them the next morning, a Sunday for me.
It was my first time meeting Melissa, but still I felt like I had my three best friends with me.
We sat on my sun-warmed driveway and Luka and I did our act of reading out the newest pages of the journal that I had puzzled out, she over-acting as Rose and me as Curtis. Some of the early pages were dull, so I chose something that began on our exact date, sixty years before.
June 7, 1917
Mother says I’m getting fat and that’s just fine by her. “Nothing like a plump, healthy girl.” She says it in a sing-song voice while she cleans or does dishes. I tell her my stomach has been hurting. I want her to take me to the doctor. He would tell her. Then we would know and we would not have to continue in this lie.
But she won’t. She is hateful in her cheerfulness.
June 9, 1927
Lillian told me a ghost story. It’s about a bad man called Prince Harming. Well, not a ghost story but a scary one. This Prince Harming lost his own soul a long time ago when he killed his brother. He did it when he was a baby, strangled the other baby in the crib or something. Now he tries to kill children because if he kills the right little boy, he can eat his soul.
Mother got angry again at nothing, so I went to the creek to the cave that used to be Rose and Clive’s and just stayed there for a long time and was sad. I scratched my initials into the wood next to theirs so at least it will make a difference to something that I was alive.
July 10, 1917
Now I see her plan. For weeks playing up my ill health. She insists I dress in heavy layers. Is she hiding it from herself or me?
In any event, yesterday she announced that I must move to the carriage house for my health. It is too dusty in the main house. We are much fallen, she says, from earlier times. There will be no more carriages or horses for Holleriths, so we might as well make use of it as a real property, and I will be her little pioneer, she says, though I simply must come over for breakfast. She has it all planned out.
Curtis came back again. Always angry. Mother hit him, he says. Caught him stealing biscuits from the pantry. He says she is forever shouting about one thing or another. I ask if it’s me she’s shouting at, but he doesn’t like to talk about me. He says I don’t visit.
I complained about all the work it was to puzzle out the old handwriting, but Luka said I should go on. “At least you’re finding some stuff out. It’s driving me crazy that we can’t get back to those times. I can’t wait for summer.”
I stood up and flapped my arms against the
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