Mirror, The (16 page)

"I like it," Katie said.

"I do too," Ginny added.

"That's good," Virginia said. "I thought you would. Before we discuss the rent, do either of you have any questions about the apartment itself?"

"I do," Ginny said. "Does the TV in the living room work?"

"It does. Sometimes you have to adjust the rabbit ears to get decent reception, but it does, in fact, work. Cindy and Joanie, my daughters, watched cartoons on it this morning."

Ginny paused before asking another question. She tried to remember the last time she had heard someone use the term "rabbit ears" and not refer to the appendages of a bunny.

"I have one more question."

"Please ask," Virginia said.

"What's the neighborhood like?"

"I figured one of you might ask that. I'm pleased to tell you that it is safe and quiet. It's also close to a bus stop on Fifteenth Avenue that provides direct access to Greer's and to the campus. You won't need a car to get to either of those places."

Virginia looked at each of the twins.

"Is there anything else you'd like to know?"

Two girls shook their heads.

Virginia leaned her broom against the large refrigerator.

"Very well. That brings me to the subject of your rent. During the school year, we typically offer this unit for a hundred twenty-five dollars a month. The price includes all utilities. During the summer, we drop the rate to a hundred a month."

"We could probably manage that," Ginny said.

"I'm sure you could," Virginia said. "We're prepared, however, to offer you a better deal."

"You are?"

"We are. We will rent this apartment to you through August for eighty dollars a month. If you prove to be responsible renters, we will offer it to you through the school year for a hundred a month. The last tenants were not particularly kind to the doors and appliances. I have a hunch that you two will treat them with more respect."

"I will," Ginny said. "At that price, I'll sing their praises every day."

Virginia smiled. She looked at Katie.

"Will you 'sing their praises' too?"

Katie shook her head.

"No. I have to be honest. But I promise not to break the toaster."

Virginia laughed.

"You girls are quite the comics. I like that," she said. "I have a dear friend in Portland – named Katie, coincidentally – who has the same sense of humor."

Ginny glanced at Katie and saw her cheeks turn red. She had no doubt the hue of her face was turning the same color. Ginny wondered at what point she and Katie would have to offer their wrists and surrender to the time-travel cops.

"In any case, I think we have the basis for an agreement," Virginia said. "I realize that you just started at the store and probably haven't received your first paychecks, so I'll give you until June 15 to pay for the balance of May and all of June. You can move in any time you'd like. Does that sound fair?"

"That sounds very fair," Ginny said.

"I think so too," Katie agreed.

Virginia smiled.

"I thought it would. There is one more thing."

"What's that?" Ginny asked.

"I want you to know that you can come over to the house at any time if you need something fixed – or even if you just have a problem. I typically don't extend that invitation to tenants, but I feel comfortable making an exception here. I know what it's like to leave home at your age and come to the big city. It can be exciting, yes, but it can also be scary, lonely, and frustrating. Please know that you can count on Joe and me to help you out if you get in a pinch."

"I appreciate that," Ginny said.

"I do too," Katie added. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," Virginia said. "I'll let you ladies look the place over while I get the rental agreement. Is there anything else I can do for you now?"

"No. I think that will do it," Ginny said.

She smiled.

Thanks, Granny.

CHAPTER 27: GINNY

Sunday, May 17, 1964

Ginny noticed many things as she stood near the end of the impossibly long line, which started in front of the Phoenician Theater on the Ave and stretched around the corner at Forty-Seventh Street.

She noticed the people, of course, and the clothes they wore. Though she finally got a glimpse of the denim that was so common in 2020, she got more than a glimpse of sweaters, slacks, jumpers, felt hats, and dresses that seemed torn from the pages of a J.C. Penney catalog. She wasn't sure she'd ever get used to seeing so many retro dresses, even though six now hung in the closet of her bedroom in the duplex.

Ginny also saw signs of the times, including a drug-store poster touting Green Stamps, vehicles sporting chrome and fins, billboards advertising cigarettes, and an unoccupied bench she had never seen but had heard about on many occasions. For at least two members of the Smith family, the bench was an unforgettable icon and the sidewalk around it sacred ground.

When she advanced far enough in the line to gain an unobstructed view of the street corner, Ginny tapped Katie on the shoulder and pointed to the bench. She smiled when her twin acknowledged the site's significance with a nod and a smile of her own.

According to Joel and Grace, the bench was where the family story had started. It was where Joel Smith, homeless time traveler from the year 2000, had stopped to rest his tired bones on the evening of June 2, 1941, and had a brief encounter with a young woman returning from a night out on the town with her sorority sisters.

The scraggly stranger and the smartly dressed woman, a beautiful coed named Grace Vandenberg, had done little more than acknowledge each other with weary smiles and nonverbal gestures. She had offered a gentle wave before crossing the street. He had touched the brim of a cowboy hat he had picked up in Montana.

The gestures, however, had planted a seed that germinated two weeks later when Joel and Grace were introduced at a graduation party. They went on to date, fall in love, and make plans for the future before Joel followed his conscience back to 2000. Even after their reunion weeks later, however, Joel had not forgotten the place where he and Grace had met. When he had proposed marriage in August 2000, he had done so on a bended knee as she sat on the bench.

To most of the two hundred or so people in line, the bench represented nothing more than a place to sit. To Ginny Smith and her time-traveling sister, it was a sweet reminder of a simpler time and proof that even utilitarian objects could have profound sentimental value.

Ginny thought about her parents and the family she desperately missed as she and the others moved forward in the line, passed the bench, and continued down the Ave. Five minutes later she heard a friend speak up for the first time during the slow procession to the box office.

"Thanks for coming, Ginny," James Green said. "I'm sure you had better things to do today than hang around me."

Ginny glanced at James and looked for a facial expression that might give added meaning to his statement. She didn't find it. If James was disappointed that she had put a guy she liked before her friends – and even her sister – on Friday and Saturday, he didn't show it. He seemed genuinely pleased to be standing at her side as they waited in line with Katie and Mike to see a matinee showing of
Dr. Strangelove
.

"You're wrong, James. I didn't have better things to do. I didn't have better things to do last night. I could have given Steve a rain check. I should thank all of you for putting this off until today – especially you, Mike."

"What do you mean?"

"What I mean, Michael, is that I know you wanted to date my sister on Friday, and because of me you had to wait until today. That must have been torture."

Mike blushed as James and Katie laughed.

"You don't mince words, do you?" Mike said.

"No," Ginny said.

This time all three laughed.

Ginny warmed at the sight of the laughter. She knew now why she should have given up one of her dates with Steve. Katie, James, and Mike made her smile. She was far more comfortable in their presence than in the company of Steve's family or his fraternity brothers, whom she had endured for three hours Saturday night. Though she savored every minute she spent with her new boyfriend, she loathed sharing him with others.

She looked at Mike to see if he was ready for another dig when she saw something that wiped the smile from her face. Two mean-looking men in their early twenties jaywalked across the Ave and headed for a gap in the line in front of the courtesy clerks. Dressed in blue jeans and work shirts, the men filled the gap without as much as a word to the people behind them.

"Hey! You can't do that," Katie said. "You have to go to the back of the line."

The larger and uglier of the men turned to face the defiant little blonde. He looked at her contemptuously.

"Who says?"

"I say," Mike said as he got in his face.

"I say too," James said.

Ugly laughed but didn't respond right away. He instead closely examined the group he had irritated and inconvenienced until he found a new way to cause trouble.

"Well, what do you know? It looks like we have ourselves a mismatched set. I'm not sure I approve of this, Bill. Do you approve?"

The other man, grinning, shook his head.

"I didn't think so," Ugly said. "I may have to ponder this a minute."

Mike spoke up.

"Why don't you ponder shutting your mouth?"

Ugly sneered.

"Why don't you step back before you get hurt?"

Katie grabbed Mike's arm as he leaned forward.

"He's not worth it, Mike. Just let them stay there," she said.

"You ought to listen to your lady there, friend. She seems to have a lot more sense than you do. Wouldn't you agree, Bill?"

Bill nodded and laughed. Then he stared at Ginny in a way that made her nervous.

Ginny hated bullies. She'd hated them her whole life. She despised boys who extorted lunch money and girls who slandered their peers with vicious gossip. She knew these two needed to be put down like rabid dogs, but she also agreed with Katie. Making a stand over cutting in line was not worth ruining an afternoon. These bullies, unfortunately, had no intention of letting up.

"You know, the more I think about it, the more I think you ladies can do better," Ugly said. "Why don't you girls come with us? Bill and I will show you a good time. You won't have to put up with all these stares either."

"Don't say another word," Mike said.

Ginny quickly scanned the faces of the others in the line. She hoped to find at least some support but didn't find any. Most of the other moviegoers in the immediate vicinity glared not at the punks who had cut in line but at the young black male who'd had the audacity to escort a young white female to a public event.

Ugly laughed at Mike but otherwise ignored him. He instead stepped toward James. He had the swagger of someone who outweighed each of his adversaries by at least fifteen pounds.

"What do you say, bud? Do you think I could show your girlfriend a good time? I think I could. I think I could show her a
real
good time."

Ginny braced herself for the inevitable, but the inevitable didn't come. James didn't throw a punch. He didn't get in the bully's face. He instead glared at Ugly, stepped between the thug and the girlfriend who was not his girlfriend, and held his ground.

Mike showed less restraint. He grabbed the antagonist from behind, turned him around, and threw him against the side of the building. When Ugly pushed back, Mike punched him in the stomach and threw him against the bricks again. By the time Ugly was able to stand up and come after Mike once more, a policeman pushed through the front of the line and intervened.

"That's enough," the cop said. "Break it up now."

Mike let go of Ugly and took a step back.

"What's going on here?" the policeman asked.

"These two cut in line," Ginny said pointing to Ugly and Bill. "They cut in front of us and then started a fight."

"Is that true?" the officer asked Katie.

She nodded.

The cop turned to face two elderly couples standing in line behind the Greer's group.

"Did you see what happened?"

The couples gave James and Ginny disapproving glances and then returned their attention to the officer. One of the women appeared ready to say something but didn't. She instead looked at the cop and shook her head. The other seniors looked away.

Ginny glared at the couples and then returned to the policeman. She began to speak again but stopped when a man several places back hailed the officer and stepped forward. No more than thirty, he was dressed in a three-piece suit he had probably worn to church.

"The girl's right," he said. "Those two cut in line and picked a fight."

"Who are you?" the officer said.

"My name is George Winslow. I've been standing behind these folks for quite some time. They were minding their own business when those men cut in line. I saw it plain as day."

"Is that right?" the cop asked Ugly.

Ugly didn't answer.

"All right," the policeman said. "That's enough for me."

He turned to face the ruffians.

"You two go to the back of the line now. If I have to do this again, I'll haul you in. Do I make myself clear?"

Ugly and Bill nodded at the cop and then took their leave. They glared at Mike and James as they walked back to the intersection, rounded the corner, and exited the scene. The cop followed them as far as the bench and then crossed the Ave to presumably take care of other business.

"Thank you," Ginny said to the Good Samaritan.

"Don't mention it," George Winslow said. "Those guys had it coming."

The man tipped his hat and walked back in line about fifteen feet to a nicely dressed woman who appeared visibly relieved that her husband or boyfriend had not become physically involved in the dispute. He grabbed her hand and blended into the line.

"Are you all right, Mike?" Ginny asked.

"I'm fine. I really wanted to throw another punch, but I guess it's a good thing I didn't."