ISAAC WAS STILL AWAKE WHEN HIS ALARM clock went off. He was very drowsy, and it took him a moment to get his bearings. Then it came back to him: the mirror box.
During the night he had put the haunted box in his closet so that the awful specter would be out of sight. But he hadn't been able to stop thinking about it. As a result, he hadn't gotten any sleep at all.
He toyed with the idea of skipping school. After all, he could use the excuse that his mother was in the hospital.
It was seven A.M. Isaac dressed and went downstairs. Unbelievably, Grandpa was already in the kitchen, sitting at the table. His hair was still unkempt, but at least his shirt was buttoned the right way.
Isaac sighed as he fried a couple of eggs and then put them on plates for the two of them. It was hard enough dealing with his own problems; being responsible for Grandpa was an added burden.
"How…is she doing?" Grandpa asked suddenly, startling Isaac.
So Grandpa wasn't lost in his own world, as he usually was.
"Well, it's hard to tell how she-" Isaac's cell phone rang, interrupting the conversation. Who could be calling?
"Hi, Ize," said his mother, sounding a little hoarse.
"Mom?" He hadn't expected that she would be alert enough to call him.
"I'm not as sedated today," Vera said. "Can you bring me some stuff before you go to school?"
His heart sank. Go back to the awful hospital again? But Vera was coherent; how could he refuse?
She wanted any bills that had collected and also her checkbook, the piano technique book she was reading, her music magazines, some cosmetics, and her glasses. It would all fit in his bicycle basket. Isaac sighed and said, "OK."
When he reached the hospital, he again walked up the six flights of stairs.
When he got to Vera's floor, he was relieved to see a friendly face. Candi greeted him pleasantly at the nurses' station. "No school today?" she asked.
"Mom called and said she needed some stuff from home. She doesn't seem so out of it today. I figured I could help her and then go to school a little late."
"Yes, fortunately Dr. Ciano decided your mother didn't need to be so sedated anymore." Candi smiled, and her voice softened. "Is that a book about piano playing?" she asked, looking at the pile of things he held in his arms.
"Yeah," he said.
"Don't forget to-"
"I know. Wash my hands," Isaac interrupted her, and they both laughed.
Today Vera sat propped up in her narrow hospital bed, not dozing the way she was the last time. But now she had tubes in both of her hands. Dr. Ciano was there, standing on the other side of the bed. She was adjusting the new IV.
"Ize!" Vera said with a big smile. She was like a whole different person. "It's great to see you. Thanks so much for bringing my things."
"Wait a minute. I have to wash my hands." He put her stuff down on the bedside table.
Dr. Ciano looked up from the new IV line for a moment. "Oh, a book about piano playing," she said. "I studied piano for a little while, but I wasn't any good at it. My brother was, though." She sighed. "OK, all done." She left the room without another word, but with her forced half smile.
Isaac took off his jacket and sat in the chair next to the bed. "What's happening?" he asked, looking around the room.
"Oh, you know. Always lots of fun around here." Vera rolled her eyes. She wasn't as sedated, but she still seemed a little loopy. "What about your breakfast? Did you eat?" she asked him. "There's a café down in the lobby."
"I made eggs. And guess what? When I got up, Grandpa was down there waiting, and he actually asked about you."
"Really?" Vera said.
There was a knock on the door. It was Dr. Ciano again. She walked toward the bed.
"Oh. Hello again, Dr. Ciano," Vera said nervously.
Isaac noticed that the doctor didn't wash her hands when she came in, which he found strange. He stood up so she could sit in the chair next to the bed. But instead she remained standing, leafing through a sheaf of papers. "You may not remember," she said to Vera, "but when you were admitted, we did an EEG. The EEG had some abnormalities, so I'd like to do some more extensive tests, like an MRI-just in case."
"Abnormalities? What kind of abnormalities?" Isaac asked.
"They could be anything, really, but I'm sure it's nothing to worry about."
"Oh," Isaac said, glancing quickly at his mother.
Dr. Ciano looked at him. "What day is it? Shouldn't you be in school?"
"My mother asked me to bring her some stuff," Isaac said, snapping at the doctor.
"Isaac," Vera said, eyeing him. "Don't be rude."
Dr. Ciano turned her attention back to Vera. "I'll be keeping you on the IVs until we have a better sense of what's wrong. I have to go now, but ring for one of the nurses if you need anything."
"When will you be back?" Isaac asked.
"I may be going to an out-of-state conference soon, but don't worry-I'm always around," the doctor said, and left the room.
"She's kind of weird, isn't she?" Isaac said very softly. "What does all that mean, anyway? EEG and MRI?"
"They're different tests that measure brain activity," Vera replied. "But you know, I can't figure out why this hospital came so highly recommended. Dr. Ciano is so peculiar. She makes me uneasy. I wonder what she's telling them to put into these IVs." She yawned. "I'm feeling tired again. I might just close my eyes for a second," she said, her voice shaky. She quickly drifted off to sleep.
Isaac stayed with her while she slept. As long as he was at the hospital he could use it as an excuse to skip school. Which was worse? The hospital or school? It was hard to choose.
Isaac reached into his backpack and pulled out his zombie book. It was a relief to concentrate on something else.
A couple of hours later, the door opened. Another patient was wheeled into the room. She had short gray hair and a look of authority about her, despite being a patient. Isaac hated that she was there. And the commotion woke Vera, who looked surprised at first. After a moment she pulled herself together and greeted her new roommate warmly.
"Hi, I'm Vera, and this is my son, Isaac."
"Esther Kaplan. Nice to meet you both."
Candi entered the room and attached the new patient's IV bag to the permanent pole. "I'm sure you two will get along very well," she said. "Vera's a pianist. And you?"
"I'm a doctor," Esther told her. Then she paused. "You look familiar. Have you worked at other hospitals?"
"A lot of people say that. I just have one of those faces," Candi said. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got to see to some other patients." She smiled at them all as she left the room.
"So you're a doctor?" Vera said.
"Well, used to be. Retired now," Esther said. "I'm sure I've seen that nurse somewhere…"
"Maybe here in the hospital," Vera suggested.
"No, I don't think so," Esther said. "Oh, I don't know."
Isaac was relieved to finally leave the hospital. While he was riding to school on his bike, all of his worries came to a head: school and the Fitzpatrick twins, his mother's illness, Grandpa and that box. The thoughts sat in his stomach like a lump of lead. He decided he couldn't face school, so he headed home.
At home, he thought about the mirror box. What would happen the next time he put his arms in? He was scared…but he was more curious than anything. He reasoned that since it was now the middle of the day-and not the middle of the night-he could experiment with it again. He suddenly felt wide awake and alert. Anything that happened now had to be real, not the result of fatigue or his imagination.
Isaac remembered the way the hand in the mirror had shown him the woven smiley face and then had waved at him. Was it mocking him, just like the twins? Or was it trying to tell him something?
His heart began to speed up as he ascended the stairs and went into his room. He was hoping more than anything that the hand in the mirror wasn't real. He had too many things to worry about already-he didn't need to add "menacing hand" to the list.
Isaac stood in front of his closet door. His hand moved to the doorknob, then pulled back. He turned and prepared to walk away. He wasn't ready to risk putting his hands inside that thing again. But something urged him on, some nagging need to figure out what was happening. He turned back and made himself open the door.
There was the box, right where he had left it…except that the side with the holes was facing to the right. Was that how he had put it in there? He thought that the holes had been facing toward the door. He wasn't sure. Tentatively, he reached into the closet and pulled out the box. He had to get this over with.
Nothing will happen, he kept reassuring himself.
He put the box on his desk, sat down in front of it, took a deep breath, and slid his hands inside. It was a cool day, but he could feel sweat forming on his forehead. At first, he felt relieved to see only the reflection of his own hand.
But then the image disappeared, and the phantom limb came into view. It was holding a tattered piece of fabric with a faded yellow smiley face on it. Half of the smile was unraveled.
Isaac squeezed his eyes shut. Forcing his muscles to obey him, he kept his hands, trembling, inside the box.
The phantom limb was real after all. He hadn't imagined it.
But what was the hand trying to tell him?
Whose hand was it?
Isaac had so many questions but lacked any answers. The hand could only sign to him, not speak-so how could he understand what it was trying to tell him?
He slowly opened his eyes again. He was just in time to see what happened next.
With a sudden violent movement, the phantom limb yanked a thread, and the smile unraveled completely.
