Tickled Squirrel March 2015 | Page 22

Reflection of the Son Craig McArthur Following the disappearance of his father the day before, and frustrated by the thought of a forty eight hour wait before he would be declared missing, Isaac took it upon himself to go and look for him. Initially checking the work diary in his office, he got the address of where William was supposed to have been working. Isaac pulled his car into the driveway of the property and was immediately astounded by the look of this tired old building. He could see that it once was a rather grand place to live, with Tudor styling on the apex that faced him. The ground floor contained three large wooden bay windows, each having several panes of glass broken. Patches of render had fallen away exposing red bricks now tinged green. Beyond the house lay a vast field, once containing a lawn but now wild with growth. Isaac spotted his father’s empty van. He called out for his dad. There was no response. A sign mounted on the brick work above the rear door to the building read Rookery Farm - the same name as his family name. The door was unlocked. Isaac entered the building and walked along the corridor, his hand brushing the oak dado rail covered in dust. The corridor opened into a large hallway where a grand staircase faced him. An oak-beamed fireplace was to his right. Noticing engraving across the front of the beam, Isaac ran his fingers across the words. It was written in Latin . . . Isaac vultus ad speculum considerantem quia responsum. Quite the coincidence he thought, as he knew Latin from studying it at college. He translated it to English... Isaac look to the mirror’s reflection for the answer, was what it said. Looking around, he spied a mirror leaning against a wall. As he approached it he saw movement in its reflection. Turning quickly Isaac checked behind him. No-one was there. ‘Dad, are you here?’ he shouted. Wiping the dust from the mirror Isaac suddenly realised he had no reflection! Isaac jumped back in shock, and then he saw something else within the mirror. The room appeared to be new, freshly decorated, the fire was alight and somebody stood there watching the flames dance around. As he moved closer, he noticed the person was in fact his father William, only he appeared older. Isaac turned around to see if he was in the room with him, only to find himself surrounded by the damp ruin of the once grand hallway. He shouted ‘William Rookery.’ Turning back to look at the mirror, Isaac saw his father walking toward him. Unsure what to do, and with the urge to run, William spoke through the glass. ‘Isaac wait, it’s me, dad!’ Unable to fathom how this could be happening, Isaac moved toward the mirror, his hand reached out to touch his dad’s elderly reflection, while a tear ran down his cheek.William explained how he’d discovered the entrance to the cellar in the reflection of the mirror. ‘What cellar?’ Isaac said. ‘Precisely.’ William replied. ‘It can only be seen in the mirror’s reflection.’ He went on to say how after he’d lifted floor boards, he’d discovered and gone down the steps of the cellar only to find himself back in time and at the top of the steps again, and that after several attempts to get back to 2015, he’d found himself trapped in 1855, before the house had ever been built. William described his life, of how he’d met and subsequently married the farmer’s daughter Samantha, that they’d had two children Philip and Mary. ‘How am I supposed to believe you when you only went missing eighteen hours ago?’ asked Isaac. ‘It may only be eighteen hours for you, but it’s been eighteen years for Jane and me. We built this house ten years ago and I have waited here every lunch time in the Hallway in the hope of somehow getting a message to you.’ An idea occurred to Isaac, ‘Dad what if I go down the cellar stair myself, with a rope attached this end, maybe I could bring you back. If not, at least we’d be together.’ ‘And my family too?’ William replied. 22