Mirror, Mirror (Book 2)

Chapter 18: Goodnight

As Max opened the door, the boys came with their bags dragging against the cold, green tiled floor. When Oliver closed the door, eyes marveled at the sight of twenty-four wooden bunk beds lined across the room, egg blue walls, and cold, metal gray compartments stood beside each bottom bunk bed, suited for those who carried extra items in their packs.

Both sides of the cabin were white painted entrance doors leading to the bathroom. It was perfect for the boys, due to the fact that there were only twenty-four of them.

Following Jake's orders, everyone picked and prepared their mattresses for slumber. Max and his friends called the top bunk, while Oliver and the juniors claimed the bottom as their own.

Sounds of laughter, commotion, and zippers pulling filled the empty silence, making the boys seem comfortable with their environment.

So was Oliver, whose unzipping his suitcase and putting them in a cubby. One by one, he carefully folds his pants, shirt, and underwear, and tucks them in his metal cubby.

But because it was small, Oliver leaves half of his folded clothes and items in his suitcase, which sat underneath his bed, collecting dust and dirt on its stomach.

For his dirty clothing, the boy folds them neatly and placed them on top of his suitcase. Later in the evening, he takes a long hot shower, pumps two breaths of his inhaler, pulls his phone from his dirty jeans pocket, and called his mother.

At first, it took a while for her to pick up, but then Oliver hears her quiet voice.

"Hello?" asked Caitlin. "Who is this?"

Hey Mom," Oliver beamed. "it's me, Oliver."

He hears her chuckling nervously in the background.

"Oh, hi Oliver." Caitlin beamed back. "How are things?"

"Things are going great," he said. "We had a nice long walk to camp, we ate some lunch, and we are getting ready to go to bed."

"That's good, so what is it like?"

Oliver tells her the entire story of his day, describing the entrance of the camp, the field of tall trees, but he left out the part where he talked to a ghost with burnt scars.

After he was finished, he asked his mother if she was doing okay.

"Yes," Caitlin replied. "My boss gave me a check, I got promoted to assistant manager, and I feel excited that you called me."

Her good news made Oliver smile; it's been a while since he heard something positive about Caitlin's job.

"Is Amelia taking care of you?"

Oliver grinned, "yes, Mom."

"Did you take your inhaler?"

"Yes."

"That's good. How's Harriet?"

Oliver's cheeks redden. No doubt that Amelia told her about his crush.

Still, the boy cleared his throat and said that Harriet is fine.

"Are you going to ask her out?"

Oliver stuttered, "w-what?"

Caitlin sighed, then repeat her answer: "Are you going to ask Harriet out?"

"Did Amelia ask you this?" he whined.

"It's rude not to express your romantic feelings toward a woman you love," Caitlin advised, ignoring Oliver.

"So Amelia did ask you," he grumbled.

"Look, when I met your father, he was shy and sweet like you, Oliver." Caitlin explained, "He always knows what to do to make me happy."

"Really?" asked Oliver, raising his eyebrow in surprise. "Where did you guys meet?"

"At a Harry Potter convention in Florida," says Caitlin. "I was Hermoine and-she laughs a little-your father was Harry Potter."

Harry Potter and Hermoine? Oliver wondered.

Although he wasn't a huge fan of the series, Oliver thought that Hermoine and Ron were a couple; even before the Deathly Hallows novel came out.

"My friends and I got ourselves ready for the event," Caitlin went on, "we met J. K. Rowling, got her autograph, and we were about to walk out of the convention, when one of my friends, Ashley said, 'look, I think Caitlin has a stalker.' "

"At first, I thought Ashley was playing a prank on me, but when I turned around, I saw a tall, dark-haired, green-eyed, pale Harry Potter staring at me with a cute smile."

"Dad was staring at you?" Oliver asked in wonder.

"Like an adorable puppy," Caitlin giggled. "Ashley made me introduce myself to him. So, I told him my name, while Christopher told me his. Then, we spent the entire evening talking about Harry Potter."

Oliver giggled, seeing his sixteen-year-old mother smitten by his father's clumsy move.

"After the convention, Chris drives me to my apartment. He later asked if I wanted to go out for coffee tomorrow, and I agreed."

Oliver's mother laughed, "we went to Starbucks, ordered Carmel lattes, and talked about ourselves: I worked as a babysitter for four years, while your father became an intern as a newspaper editor. He has a Scottish father and a Canadian mother, a younger brother, and a cute golden retriever."

"Wow," Oliver grinned. "I didn't know that. Why didn't you tell me?"

All of a sudden, Caitlin became quiet. Silence came like a gas, flourishing through the cell phone speakers; it was so unbearable that Oliver became worried about her.

"Mom," Oliver said in fear. "Are you there?"

When Caitlin didn't respond, he thought back to the events where he spread salt on the windowsills and entrances, drew protection circles around the house, and said spells that were meant to shield any demonic trespassers.

What if the demons somehow got through? Oliver wondered.

Father Jacobs once explained that those who can penetrate shields and circles at will.

Damn it, he thinks to himself. What if those demons are in the house right now, planning to kidnap his mother?

Desperate, Oliver called his mother's name and tries to hear any sign of life in the background.

"Mom?" Oliver croaked. "Mom? Are you there?"

"Yes, I am still here."

"Oh, thank God." Oliver sighed. He thought the monsters had gotten her. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," answered Caitlin, giggling. "sorry, I was just thinking about your father."

"Oh, me too. Anyway, what time is it?"

"It's-Caitlin squints at the time on her phone-almost midnight."

"Oh, wow." Oliver yawned. "I didn't know it was this late."

"You better get some rest, Oliver." advised Caitlin, "You have a big day tomorrow."

"I love you, Mom."

"I love you too."

After hanging up the phone, Oliver yawned again and stretched his arms. His eyelids drooped over his green eyes, as he kicks off his shoes and ran his feet on the bedsheets.

He rests his head against the white pillow and sighed, slipping his fingers through his brown hair. Next, he put his black phone on top of his cubby. And last but not least, he threw his covers over his body, take one last look at the boys sleeping in their bunk beds, and fell asleep peacefully.