Behind the Silver Glass

BEHIND THE SILVER GLASS

By S.A. Welsh

Daisy cautiously stepped into Frankie’s pizzeria, her eyes darting around the dimly lit room as though every shadow might recognize her. The air smelled of sweet tomato sauce and old cigarette smoke, a haze of both clinging stubbornly to the cracked red leather booths.

It was nearly empty, just a group of rough-looking bikers hunched over pitchers in the back corner and a few college kids playing a half-hearted game of billiards near the jukebox. None of them paid any attention to Daisy and she hoped it’d stay that way.

A black rotary phone sat at the far end of the bar, its cord knotted and its cradle worn from decades of use. Her gaze landed on it immediately. Tonight it looked almost expectant.

She crossed the room quickly, slid onto the barstool, and pulled the receiver free. The coiled cord twisted like a snake, and she stretched it out, fingers fumbling until it came untangled. Heart pounding, she dug the scrap of paper from her pocket, its folded edges now soft from her anxious handling.

If not for the old rotary phone in her father’s study she used to play with as a little girl, she would have had no idea how to even begin. Her fingers trembled as she slipped them into the metal dial, pulling each number slowly and releasing it with a sharp whirl and click. The dial spun back with a mechanical groan, counting down the seconds between her breaths.

When she finally let go of the last number, a low dial tone hummed in her ear, steady but unnerving. She pressed the receiver tight against her ear, waiting.

The rings came one, then another, stretching out like lifelines she wasn’t sure she could grab.

Then, a soft click.

Her breath caught.

What followed was the faint mechanical hum of an answering machine switching on.

“Hello, Daisy.”

It was her voice.

“The way home is through the walk-in freezer. Inside, on the furthest wall, you will see a crack. Knock three times.”

Click.

The message ended, leaving Daisy staring at the phone as if it might continue speaking. Her heart thumped, her fingers still curled around the receiver. Slowly, she set it back in place.

Through the passway, she spotted Frankie, the Pizzaria owner, hustling in the kitchen, mop in hand, rhinestone glasses sliding down her nose. Daisy’s pulse quickened. She could see the walk-in freezer from here, but so could Frankie.

“Can I help you, dear?” Frankie asked, catching sight of her. “That phone hasn’t worked in ages.”

Daisy jolted, forcing a smile. “Oh, no thanks. Just waiting for my ride to pick me up.”

As Frankie wheeled the bucket away, Daisy’s chest tightened. That was it. Her opening.

She scanned the room once more, the bikers were roaring at their arm-wrestling match, and the college students were swallowed up in their own drama.

Daisy slipped off her stool and darted into the kitchen. She didn’t allow herself time to hesitate. Past the prep station, past the oven, her fingers found the heavy steel handle of the freezer door. With a sharp tug, it swung open, blasting her with a rush of icy air.

She stepped inside, tugging the door mostly shut behind her, leaving it cracked just an inch to keep the light on. The cold was instant, slicing through her clothes and into her skin. The hum of machinery filled her ears, vibrating in her bones.

The space was tight, lined with shelves and stacked boxes. Her breath puffed white before her. On the far wall sat a rolling rack, heavy with tubs of ice cream. Daisy’s hands were numb as she shoved against it, muscles straining until the rack scraped aside.

There it was. A thin, jagged crack along the back wall, glistening with frost. She pressed her hand against it, sharp, bitter cold shot through her fingers. Fitting, she thought dimly. Frozen. Suspended. Just like her. Stuck between realities trying to find her way back home.

Her breath puffed white and she exhaled, forming a fist to knock.

One. Two. Three. She knocked three times.

 She took one step back not knowing what to expect.

At first, nothing. Then, a faint shimmer rippled along the crack. The frost began to melt, trickling down the wall. The line widened, crumbling and groaning. The entire freezer shook violently. Shelves rattled, boxes toppled, the floor quaked beneath her. Daisy grabbed hold of the rack, her knuckles white.

And then silence.

Before her yawned an opening, wide enough to step through, glowing faintly with a silvery-blue light.

Her breath caught.

She hesitated, fear prickling her skin. She let go of the rack, squared her shoulders, and slipped through the crack.

It happened in an instant, but it felt as though she’d been yanked feet-first out of a window and told to fly without ever learning how. Darkness cocooned her while pinpricks of light glimmered like breadcrumbs, guiding her along a twisting, funneling path. She floated weightless, her arms and hair swirling around her like the seed of a dandelion caught on the breeze. The sensation was exhilarating.

A soft calm washed over Daisy, intoxicating and euphoric, like being rocked by a lullaby. The air carried a sweetness, warm and familiar, wrapping her in comfort. She didn’t want it to end. Just a little longer, she thought. Just a few more breaths of this. Somewhere deep inside, she knew she couldn’t stay.

Focus, she whispered to herself. Don’t drift… don’t lose yourself.

Her thoughts were tangled. Where had she been last? What was real? And then, through the haze, a voice rose up, clear, even, commanding:

"We don’t have time for this."

The words pulling her out of her hypnosis.

The stars flickered, shifting into fireflies. The sweet, honeyed air soured into musk, heavy with the scent of earth, her family’s farmhouse, the muddy banks of the river. She had to find her way back home. That’s what this had always been about.

The more she remembered, the faster she fell. Down, down, down like a shard of hail tumbling through storm clouds made of stars.

She landed with a sharp jolt, not enough to knock her over, but nearly. The spinning world steadied, and as she blinked her eyes open, Velvet curtains swam into view, and there it was... the silver mirror that had carried her through time.