Mirror, The (38 page)

"You two are killing me," James said as he broke into a laugh. "If I had a twin, I'd turn him into an ally. I wouldn't slice him and dice him like you two are doing."

"I usually like her," Ginny said. "I'm just having a bad sister day."

Katie smiled.

"That's all right," James said. "I get that way sometimes with Theresa and Bernice. When they borrow my records without asking or stay in the bathroom too long, I just want to do something crazy like put spiders in their shoes."

Ginny laughed to herself. Even a string of lousy hands and a sister who got under her skin couldn't ruin her evening – at least not with James around. He was the cure for a bad mood.

"Is Bernice excited about going to high school?" Ginny asked.

"Yeah. She's excited," James said. "She's so excited she can't even wait till next month. She told me today that she wants to start school tomorrow. Tomorrow! What kind of nutty kid wants to start school in August?"

"Have you met my sister, James?"

James laughed and nearly spilled his drink. Mike chuckled and shook his head. Katie did none of those things. She instead acknowledged the latest salvo in the Zinger War with a smile.

"I guess I stepped in it, didn't I?" James asked.

"You did, but you meant well," Ginny said. "I think Bernice has the right attitude. So do Cindy and Katie. Kids should want to go to school, even in August. Be sure to tell Bernice to get involved in a lot of activities. She'll have a lot of fun in high school if she does."

"I'll do that," James said. "I'll do it tomorrow."

Ginny felt a little hypocritical about needling Katie. She had enjoyed high school as much as anyone and could remember at least one year when she had wanted to get an early start on the books. She could also remember a day not so long ago when she had looked forward to getting an early start on
college
. She could only hope that the chance to do so still waited.

Ginny thought about that chance and a few other things as Mike collected a pile of pennies. When he did so again a few minutes later, she looked at the clock on the wall and then at the other players at the table.

"I'm good for one more hand," Ginny said. "I want to cap my losses at two dollars. If I lose much more I'll have to dip into my ice cream money."

"We could always play blackjack," Mike said.

"No, thanks. Katie knows how to count cards."

Katie smiled but remained silent.

"How about we play until you win again?"

"That's happened five times tonight, Mike. Do you think I'm about to get lucky?"

"I don't know," Mike said. "Should I ask James?"

Mike and Katie laughed.

Ginny blushed. Oh, what a night this had turned out to be. She looked to James for relief but didn't find it. He had buried his face in his hands.

"All right. All right. Enough of the zingers," Ginny said. "I'm tired and starting to get a little punchy. If you want to play until I win, I'll play until I win. I don't know why you want to stay up another two hours, but I'll play until I win."

"Thanks, Ginny. You're a good sport," Mike said.

Ginny watched Michael shuffle the deck and give James a knowing smile. She didn't know what they were up to, but at eleven o'clock she didn't much care. If they wanted to cheat her out of her remaining pile of pennies, she wouldn't try to stop them.

As Mike dealt the next hand, Ginny took a moment to study the faces at the table. She was pleased and surprised to see that smiles outnumbered frowns. If she remembered nothing else about this night, she would remember that four people facing a variety of challenges had put aside their troubles to have some old-fashioned fun.

When she finished assessing the people who had conspired to make her poor, Ginny grabbed her cards, looked them over, and saw the poker equivalent of a winning lottery ticket. Satisfied that even Mike couldn't top this hand, she brought the cards together and tucked them away. She pushed her remaining assets to the middle of the table and smiled at the ruthless opposition.

"You seem rather satisfied, Gin," Katie said. "Did Santa bring you a flush?"

"It's none of your business what I have."

"Oh."

Mike and James laughed.

Ginny watched closely as Katie exchanged two cards, James one, and Mike two. She watched even more intently as James and Mike matched her ante and exchanged smiles, making Ginny wonder if it were actually possible to lose with a royal flush.

The fear lasted only a few seconds. When Ginny saw Katie throw down a trio of queens, James a pair of fours and a pair of eights, and Mike a full house, she knew she would at least go to bed with a smile on her face.

"I guess I didn't have to wait long for redemption," Ginny said. She threw down her cards. "I take personal checks, boys, in case you run out of pennies."

"Hold your horses, Ginny," Mike said. "I think James has you beat."

"No, he doesn't. Nothing beats a royal flush."

"That's not always true."

Ginny turned to Katie.

"Can I have some backup here?" Ginny asked.

Katie acknowledged Ginny with a nod and then stared at Mike.

"Michael, she won."

Katie turned to James.

"James, pay up."

"Are you sure you want me to, Katie?" James asked. "I think I've got a winning hand."

"You've got two fours and two eights, James," Ginny said. "That won't get you a bus ticket to Tukwila."

James laughed.

"No, it won't. But my special hand will."

"Your 'special' hand?" Ginny asked.

"That's right."

"There's nothing more 'special' than a royal flush, James."

"Oh, yes there is," James said.

Mike grinned.

James leaned forward, reached into his back pocket, and pulled out something Ginny couldn't see. A few seconds later, he gently placed four tickets on the table.

"This is my special hand, ladies," James said. "I call it John, Paul, George, and Ringo."

Ginny dropped her jaw and stared at her twin. Katie dropped her jaw and stared back. They couldn't speak. They couldn't move. They couldn't do anything but smile and scream.

CHAPTER 66: GINNY

Wednesday, August 19, 1964

Ginny spread out the eight-by-tens on Nana's dining table and admired her handiwork.

"These turned out pretty good," Ginny said. "I'm surprised."

"I'm not," Virginia said. "Like I said before, you have serious talent."

Ginny pulled one of the photographs forward and gave it closer scrutiny. The picture of the old man with a pipe looked like a museum piece.

"I really like this one."

"I do too," Virginia said. "So do our photo editor and our news editor. That's why we're running it on the front page of the paper this Sunday."

"You're running this on the
front
page?"

Virginia nodded.

"We're also running three more pictures in the features section. You did good work. You got more out of four rolls of film than some photographers get out of ten. If you weren't planning to leave us, I would recommend you for a position at the
Sun
."

Ginny took a moment to consider the comment, which left her happy, sad, and relieved. She was happy she had delivered the goods, sad she would never work at the
Sun
, and relieved she hadn't submitted the fifth roll of film. She doubted that photos of lovers behaving badly would have played as well as pictures of men smoking pipes and boys holding balloons.

"You
are
still planning to leave us, are you not?" Virginia asked.

The statement brought Ginny out of a daze.

"I am," Ginny said, "unless the fair's organizers scrap their plans to bring back the House of Mirrors and the big oval mirror. I expect Katie and I will go to Maple Valley as soon as the fair opens. We don't want to push our luck by waiting too long."

"That's understandable. Did you say the fair was next month?"

Ginny nodded.

"It runs the sixth through the twelfth."

Virginia smiled sadly.

"That's less than three weeks away. I'm going to miss you. I'm going to miss both of you."

"We're going to miss you too, Nana. That will be the hard part of leaving. Katie and I have made friends here – good friends. It's not fair we can't take you with us."

Virginia laughed.

"Don't be so sure I won't come with you. Sometimes I look at the world around me and want to escape. I imagine your world is a far better place."

"It is in some ways," Ginny said. "We have a lot of gadgets that make life easier. We also look at things differently. People in 2020 are generally more tolerant. They don't get as worked up over differences as people here."

"Are there things you like better about this time?"

Ginny nodded.

"There are a
lot
of things. You may find this hard to believe, but I actually like 1964 better. I like the slower pace and the fact that people here actually talk to each other. They care about important issues. They have more optimism and less cynicism," Ginny said. She smiled. "I also like the hairstyles."

Virginia laughed.

"Now I've heard everything. I figured that would be the one thing you didn't like. I thought you would be like Katie. She told me last week that she doesn't like beehives."

"She doesn't. She thinks beehives should be outlawed along with hair spray. Katie
really
hates hair spray. She thinks it's a chemical weapon that should be banned by the UN."

Virginia smiled.

"I can't say I blame her," Virginia said. "I'm not a fan of it either, though I admit it's pretty useful in removing lipstick from fabric and keeping dust off of drapes."

Ginny began to say that hair spray was also useful in killing flies, reducing runs in pantyhose, and extending the life of cut flowers, but she stopped when Cindy entered the room. She paused to look at her teenage granny, who wore a crisp white blouse, a short pink skirt, and a smile the size of South Dakota.

"Wow!" Ginny said.

"Do you like it?" Cindy asked.

"I
love
it. You look like a sophomore or a junior."

"It's what I'm wearing the first day of school."

"Do you have a baseball bat to go with it?" Ginny asked.

Cindy looked at Ginny with puzzled eyes.

"No."

"Then you'd better get one. You're going to need one to keep the boys away."

Cindy smiled and blushed.

"She's right, dear," Virginia said. "Has your father seen that outfit?"

"No."

"I was afraid of that. We may have to keep him in the dark for a while. I'm not sure he'll react as favorably to your attire as Ginny."

"Do I have to change now?" Cindy asked.

"No. Just be sure to find something else to wear before your father gets home."

"OK. I will."

Ginny laughed to herself as she took a second look at Cynthia Jorgenson.
This
is what she loved about 1964. This is what she would miss. Kids in the early sixties got excited about things like knee-length skirts and Harry the Hugger. They still blushed. They had not yet succumbed to the cynicism that would define later generations.

"Was there something else you wanted to show us?" Virginia asked.

"No," Cindy said. "I just wanted to thank Ginny again for the ticket."

"You're welcome. You're so welcome."

"Do you know who else is going?" Cindy asked.

Ginny nodded.

"There will be six of us: you, me, Katie, Mike, James, and James' sister Bernice. She's going to be a freshman at Westlake too. I think you two will hit it off."

"I hope so," Cindy said.

"I'm still at a loss as to how your friend obtained six tickets," Virginia said. "The
Sun
had difficulty getting four media passes."

"James apparently asked his dad to make some calls to people he's done business with over the years. When he found one with tickets he didn't plan to use, he bought them right away at double the face value."

"Do we owe you any money?" Virginia asked.

"No," Ginny said. "This is my treat. I wouldn't have it any other way."

"Well, thank you. I'm not a fan of the Beatles, but I know how important this concert is to youngsters. I wouldn't want Cindy to miss this any more than I'd want Rick to miss a game at the World Series or Joanie a trip to Disneyland. I think everyone should have a chance to see the world on a big stage at least once."

"When are we leaving?" Cindy asked.

"We'll leave about six," Ginny said. "The warm-up bands don't start until eight, but we want to get there early to find a parking spot."

"I'm kind of surprised that the four of you were able to get off work," Virginia said. "I know how busy Greer's can be on a Friday."

"I thought it might be a problem too, but it wasn't. When we asked for the night off, Mr. Greer gave us the whole day."

"Is that right?"

Ginny nodded.

"He doesn't expect to have any customers."

Ginny smiled.

"He said the Beatles are going to turn Seattle into a ghost town."

CHAPTER 67: GINNY

Thursday, August 20, 1964

"What do you think you're doing?" James asked.

Ginny tightened her hold on James Green's hand and led him down Aisle 12 to the employee area and an emergency exit staff used in emergencies such as this. She slowed down only to look over her shoulder and flash a smile.

"I'm taking you to a place where we can make out and not get fired."

James laughed.

"Oh, Lord."

Seeing little resistance to her spontaneous affection offensive, Ginny guided the reluctant courtesy clerk through the staff door to the loading zone in back. From there she pulled him across the street to the park and a big-leaf maple tree that provided a modicum of privacy.

"You know something? You're crazy," James said.

Ginny smiled.

"I am. I'm very crazy. Deal with it."

She threw her arms over James' shoulders and gave him a long, soft kiss. When he finally gave up all resistance, she kissed him again.