Chapter 13

13

That afternoon, Jordan took a long, hot bath, tendrils of steam rose around her as she relaxed and set her mind to thinking. She had time to examine the symbols that had flashed across the mirror while she was running her bath water. Perplexed, her brow furrowed as she contemplated their meaning. She had seen a razor and the usual color- splash of red, that although dreaded, Jordan had accepted as a common symbol that she would be seeing often. She had also seen the color black, music notes, a weighted scale, and the number 13. Then there was the eihwaz rune- possibly meaning death and the tyr rune meaning self-sacrifice.

     It seemed that the mirror predicted events that Jordan was able to stop, so she knew that if she could figure out what it all meant, she would in fact change the course of events. Frustrated, Jordan stepped from the bath, wrapped herself in a soft terry towel and flopped down on her bed to try to think.

     A razor and the color red. Well, the first thing that popped into Jordan’s mind was shaving. Or... suicide. People kill themselves with razor blades all the time. That would make sense given the self-sacrifice rune that had appeared. She wasn’t sure why she thought that, but her mind suddenly connected the razor to the bracelets that Teresa had been wearing. It still sent shivers down Jordan’s spine and combined with the color black, it seemed that Teresa was a possible suspect.

Jordan sat up in bed, dried off and pulled on her comfy sweats. She retrieved her notebook from the desk drawer and examined the rest of the clues. If it was Teresa, then why the music notes and what was the number and weighted scale supposed to mean? She decided to call Stacey to see if she knew anything more about Teresa.

     Everyone at school hated Teresa. She was called bat girl, goth girl, and a myriad of other horrible names. All because she was different. Of course, Teresa wasn’t very friendly herself anyway, so any hope of making friends seemed to be futile.

     The phone rang three times, snatched up on the fourth with a winded voice at the other end.

     “H’lo”

     “Stace?” Jordan asked, not sure if she was talking to her friend or not.

     “Oh yeah… hey Jordan, what’s up?” Stacey’s voice became steadier and steadier until it seemed that she had gotten her wind back.

     “What in the world are you doing?” Jordan asked, laughing at how her friend had sounded. “You sound like you’ve been running twenty miles.”

     “Well,” Stacey began, again gasping a few times to regulate her breathing, “I was helping my dad carry my mom’s birthday present into the house. It’s a surprise. We’re going to give her a grandfather clock. She’s always wanted one so I can’t wait to see her face!”

     Smiling Jordan continued, “Well, I won’t keep you but I have a quick question. Do you know anything about Teresa? You know, that goth girl at school.”

     “Oh yeah,” Stacey replied. “Ummmm Teresa… Coleman. That’s it! She is weird isn’t she? I mean how creepy is it to wear all black and be depressed all the time!”

     Trying to hurry her friend along, Jordan pushed, “Yeah, yeah, okay but anything else I should know?”

     Jordan heard the pause and knew what was coming.

     “Why?” Stacey asked. The dreaded question and now, Jordan had to lie once more.

     “Umm I saw her at the mall today, and… she made a few comments and I just wanted to know more about her. That’s all.”

     “Yeah.. but what comments?” Stacey prodded.

     “Come on stace! I’m running out of time. What do you know?” Jordan hated to talk to her friend that way, but this was life or death and even though it was Teresa of all people, the mirror must’ve wanted her to stop it, otherwise why would the symbols have been revealed?

     “Oh, OK, sheesh! Well, she lives with her dad and he’s a creepy drunk from what I’ve heard. It’s no wonder she wears black all the time. Her mother left when she was small and her father pretty much takes it out on her and always has. That’s about all I can tell you, Jordan. Sorry.”

     Jordan pulled her hair back in her usual thinking mode and considered what to do next. She talked a few more moments with Stacey and then said bye, wishing them luck with their big surprise.

     What to do, what to do. Jordan paced the floor. It was already early evening and she had a few short hours left before it would be too late. She decided to find Teresa’s number online. Maybe she could just tell her to get out or leave so her life would be spared. Of course she knew that Teresa would laugh at her and hang up, so she continued searching for Coleman.

     She found three. She hadn’t thought to ask for Teresa’s father’s first name so any one of them could be right.

Coleman, Bobby  …………………  555-34-5534

1145 Broadway, Independence

Coleman, Jerry………………………………… 555-12-0055

13 Justice Lane, Covington

Coleman, Jack …………………………………… 555-33-5533

66 Victor Drive, Florence

None of the names rang a bell, and Jordan decided to call all three. She scanned the names and addresses again and her eye hung on the number thirteen. That number had appeared in the mirror. She practically fell out of her chair when she saw the name of the street- Justice Street. Now the weighted scales made sense. This had to be it! Everything fit, except for the music notes, but…. Then it dawned on her. Music, Band camp! The stolen flute. There was no doubt. Teresa Coleman was going to meet her demise if Jordan did not act quickly.