Of Broken Mirrors

The bathroom on the fourth floor no longer works, the entire fourth floor of the school having been closed for budget reasons. That doesn’t mean no one has keys, and for two months I’ve had them. Which is one reason why I’m leading the new transfer to the bathroom even if he’s only been here one day. He’s in grade 10; if he was older, I’d wonder if he was a narc. I think it’s because he’s ordinary. He looks so ordinary that it seems odd, especially in high school.

That, and he asked about the stories of the bathroom and if I could show it to him. It’s only been two months, but the stories have spread like wildfires spread. I said yes without thinking. It didn’t even occur for me to ask who he’d spoken with, or find out if one of his parents were on the school board or something like that. Normally I’m more careful. I know I should be, but he asked and we’re at the doorway before I’ve really begun to process it.

“The trick is to turn on the lights, look into the mirror and say ‘Jay’ three times. Like Beetlejuice, and the creature appears and grants wishes,” I say, the spiel easy from my tongue. No one talks about Jeff. Most of the time I don’t even think about what he saw, but the new kid’s eyes are weird. Older than they should be, like he’s seen some shit.

“Perhaps you should say the words.”

“I already have.”

“Ah. When?”

“Two months ago. I was the first who did,” I say without even thinking. “I heard the whisper, spoke the words and met Jay. He helped me. He helps people.” Not Jeff, but I manage not to say that out loud. Maybe some people just can’t be helped.

The bathroom smells bad. Two months since anyone cleaned it properly, but that’s part of the thrill, of feeling like you’re in a horror game. The new kid looks at the door, then at me. “Then you’d best follow.”

And those words. He speaks them like them an adult does, with this – this weight and I find myself following without thinking. He opens the door even though I haven’t unlocked it yet, flicks the lights on.

Some of Jeff’s blood was never cleaned up. He ignores that, staring at the cracked mirror above the sink for a moment before he turns to me. “I’m going to need you to call him, Donna.”

He seems taller, now. His gaze holds mine, not letting me go.

“You’re not a student, are you?” He says nothing to that, but his voice is like Jay’s. There is power to it. A force more than him, demanding I act. “Jay. Jay. Jay,” I say, louder each time, more defiant with each breath.

The cracked mirror spills out a thick blue fog that swirls and then shivers in the air. “Donna. I need others,” Jay’s voice whispers, only this time it is sharper. Uglier.

The student coughs, only he’s taller than I am now. In his mid-twenties, but still ordinary and unremarkable.

Jay screams, the sound ugly and nasty and hungry and moves. The fog has teeth now. Claws. Something too much and not enough like eyes.

It quivers in the air as the man holds up a hand. “Your first problem was Donna, I think. She wanted to know secrets: it let her pierce the glamour I’d asked a fae for, but it also meant she’d know what you were in time. The second was using Jay’s name. Clever, but eventually Jay would find out. I’m not sure I want to think too hard about what Jay wold do once he found out you might hurt the name Jay, or the status of jaysome. Which means I came instead when the rumour reached my ears. Superstition is powerful, but one doesn’t toy with magics that old without a very good reason.”

The thing I thought was a spirit writhes and screams, held in the air.

“You stole energy, will, power. And one of them saw you too closely, so you broke them.”

“Jeff.” My voice isn’t steady at all.

“I have power, magician,” the thing hisses in a voice like breaking glass.

“Yes, but it is all stolen. Mine is not.” And this man – this magician – squeezes one hand, and the creature is gone. The world ripples weirdly, and its gone. He presses one hand ot the air before turning to me. “My apologies for the deception. I doubted it would have manifested had it known the wandering magician was here.”

“What – what was – is. Oh, God, Jeff –.”

“Donna.” My name contains echoes I have never heard, and I fall silent in a strange wonder at the future it promises in possibilities. “The entity used you: that’s what creatures like that do. It helped you, and you thought it was helping others. I’ll have Jay – the real one, that is – help this Jeff, and see about helping others it might have hurt.”

“What do I do?” I whisper.

He smiles, and the smile is surprisingly gentle given what his voice can do. “Make sure this room isn’t used. Guard it, and pass the guarding onto others. Other entities could use this place, could build on the superstition to try and find a way into the world. Your task is to stop that from happening.”

I nod. I have something to do. Something to fix. “What if I need help?”

And he tells me a cell phone number, and pulls me back into the world I know. “Call that number; someone will answer. Let them know you want to speak to the wandering magician.”

I nod. He turns, he walks outside. I check my phone, and find the number is already in my contacts. Under Jay.

I have no idea what this Jay really is. I hope I never need to find out.