MIRROR MAZE

A mirror maze opens up in Glen Hartwell, and teenagers start disappearing

Heinrick 'Soupy' Sales, a tall Anglo-Indian boy of eighteen, walked down the concrete footpath of Abel Tasman Drive, Glen Hartwell in the Victorian countryside. Arm-in-arm beside him was his girlfriend, Eli Chong, a tall, fashionably thin seventeen-year-old. The sweet smell of eucalyptus and pine wafted in from the nearby forest.

They came to the Spectra Theatre Complex (two theatres) at 227 Abel Tasman Drive, and saw a large poster for 'Joker: Folie a Deux'.

"Folie a Puke!" said Eli. "Why couldn't they have made a third Suicide Squad Movie instead? Even with Lady Gaga as Harley, it would've been better than Folie a Puke!"

"My uncle claims there was a time when not all movies were stupid zero films," teased Soupy.

"If you mean superhero films, there's nothing wrong with them, if they're done right. But with Folie a Puke, they just didn't even try to entertain people ... They assumed people who like superhero films will watch any old crap."

"Isn't that by definition what superhero films are ... Any old crap?"

"Ha-ha!" said Eli, sounding anything but amused. They had had this argument many times before.

"I'm just saying some of us would like a choice ... Other than just DC superhero films or Marvel superhero films."

"There's nothing wrong with superhero films ... as long as the producers, directors and writers respect their audience ... But Folie a Puke was an example of them not caring what people want to watch, just assuming we'll watch any old crap!"

"I repeat, isn't that what superhero films are ... any old crap?"

"No!" insisted Eli. "But the directors have to try to at least give a damn about the films they make ... If they keep treating us like morons, the film industry will eventually die!"

"True, but I prefer action films."

"Superhero movies are action films!"

"No, I meant more believable action films ... like James Bond, the Fast and Furious franchise, the latest Matt Helm film ... that kinda stuff."

"Seriously ... you regard those as more believable than superhero films?"

"Well, duh!"

"Well, duh ... what?" asked Eli, genuinely puzzled.

"Well of course, Matt Helm or James Bond are more believable than superhero films."

They were still arguing the point when they came to the mirror maze, at 73 Abel Tasman Drive.


Sheila Bennett, a tall, athletic Goth chick with orange-and-black striped shoulder-length hair, was behind the wheel of the police-blue Lexus, travelling down Wentworth Street, Glen Hartwell. She suddenly turned right onto Matthew Flinders Road.

"Where are we going now?" asked Terri Scott. Top cop of the area, and owner of the Lexus, the ash blonde had expected them to continue down Wentworth Street.

"Just stopping for a minute at Old MacDonald's Pet Shop in Matt Flinders Road," said Sheila, the second-top cop of the area.

"I didn't know there was a pet shop in the Glen owned by anyone named MacDonald?" said Colin Klein. At forty-nine, Colin had been a London crime reporter for thirty years, but now worked for the Glen Hartwell Police Force, and was engaged to Terri.

"There isn't," said Sheila, as she pulled up outside the shop. "It used to be called Guido Pistroni's Pets and Stuff, but then Guido decided Old MacDonald's Pet Shop was a clever pun on Old MacDonald Had a Farm."

"It's amazing how wrong people can be," said Terri as all three of them exited the Lexus.

"Aw, I know when you're teasing me," said Sheila as they headed into the pet shop.

"So what are you buying?" asked Terri. "How about a brightly coloured parakeet?" She walked across to a stand where half a dozen exotically coloured parrots, some as big as house cats, were perched.

"Or a nice floppy-eared puppy?" suggested Colin, stopping beside a display of basset hound pups.

Ignoring them both, Sheila walked up to the glass counter and said, "My usual order, Guido."

"Another white mouse?" asked Guido.

"Yep."

"I hope you're not planning on taking that into the Yellow House?" demanded Terri, referring to their boarding house, which was painted yellow inside and out.

"Yeah, Deidre will give you Hell if she catches you bringing a mouse into her house," added Colin.

"Ah, it won't be there for long, and she didn't catch me last time."

"Last time?" asked Terri.

"Two weeks ago. It was a present for Venice."

"The city?" asked Guido, sounding puzzled.

"No, that's what Sheils named her Venus Flytrap that she bought earlier this month," explained Terri. "It's a carnivorous plant."

When Guido looked puzzled, Colin explained, "It eats flies, spiders, wasps, and it seems, white mice."

"Don't you have to be careful not to overfeed those things?" asked Terri.

"Yep, no more than one mousy per fortnight. I last fed her a mouse on the seventh of December, it's now the twenty-first, so it's an early Chrissy present for Venice."

"Yuck, that's not my idea of a Chrissy present," said Terri as Sheila paid Guido and took a small cardboard box with air holes from him.

"Venice loved the last one," said Sheila, as they headed back outside. "Although it took her a while to completely digest it."

"Deidre will toss you out on the street if she catches you bringing mice into her house," said Terri as they headed across to the Lexus.

"Yes, she wasn't happy when you brought Venice in," reminded Colin.

"Aw, I'm her favourite guest, as she likes to call us," pointed out Sheila as they got into the car. "Though I will need you two to run interference for me when we get home, so Deidre won't see what I've got."

Looking at Terri, Colin asked, "Do you get the feeling we could all be out in the streets before bedtime tonight?"

"Aw, she won't throw me out, I'm her favourite," said Sheila. "But if she throws you two out, you can always sleep in the Lexus, or at Mitchell Street Police Station."

"If she weren't driving, I'd hit her," said Terri.


At 73 Abel Tasman Drive, Eli and Soupy saw a new shop with a silvery sign saying: FREDERICK GUTENBERG'S MIRROR MAZE.

The proprietor, standing outside his shop, was a tall Slavic-looking man with a long black beard, dressed in a shiny coat like a 1930s movie caricature of a warlock.

Eli asked, "Are you related to Steve Guttenberg, the actor?"

"No, but my parents always claimed that we were descendants of Joseph Gutenberg." Then, when the two teens stared uncomprehendingly at him, he added, "The man who made the first printing press, based upon a popular wine press at the time, and ran off a couple of hundred Bibles in quick succession, about twenty of which still exist in complete form."

Eli and Soupy stared at each other again, perplexed.

"You have heard of the Gutenberg Bible, I hope?"

"Nope," said Eli.

Sensing their boredom, rather than risk losing the two teens, Gutenberg said: "How about free tickets to my sensational mirror maze?"

"Why would you give us free tickets?" demanded Eli, staring at the proffered tickets as though they were something nasty.

"All right, forget the tickets and just enter my sensational mirror maze." When the teens still seemed reluctant, he added, "I give five dollars to anyone who can escape the maze in less than five minutes."

"Five dollars each?" confirmed Soupy.

"Of course."

"Okay then," said Soupy, almost dragging the more reluctant Eli along as he headed in through the mirror-fronted door.


Over at the Yellow House at Rochester Road, Merridale, Deidre Morton, a short, plump, sixty-something brunette, was laying out lunch on the yellow-clothed dining table when Sheila, Terri, and Colin entered the house.

"Keep her distracted, while I give Venice her Chrissy Prezzie," reminded Sheila, heading down the corridor toward the stairs up to the bedrooms.

"Terri, Colin," greeted Deidre as they entered the dining room.

"Where is the mad Goth chick?" asked Tommy Turner. A recent retiree, Tommy was short and fat, and a reforming alcoholic - on orders from Deidre!

"She's just going upstairs to say hello to Venice," lied Terri.

"Anyone would think that ugly Venus Flytrap was a cute little kitty cat the way she treats it," said Natasha Lipzing, at seventy-one, the oldest resident of the boarding house.

"Or a floppy-eared little puppy," said Colin, trying not to snicker.


"Here you go, Venice, my beauty," said Sheila, holding up the small cardboard box in her left hand. "Chrissy has come a few days early."

She reached in to grab the mouse by the tail, to lower it toward the clam-shaped petals on the flytrap. Squeaking in terror as the petals began to close up, the mouse struggled furiously in a vain bid to escape.


Arm in arm still, Eli and Soupy started along the corridor of mirrors, feeling more than a little claustrophobic as they were surrounded by their own images. Some looked as puzzled and awkward as the two teenagers felt, some looked lost, others seemed to sneer, or shriek silently at them.

How did they manage to make the mirrors do that? wondered Eli. She had heard of carnival mirrors that distorted your image, but she thought, How do they make the images seem to be screaming, when we aren't? Although she thought she soon might be, if the mirrors closed in any more upon them, as they seemed to be doing.

"Are you all right, babe?" asked Soupy, seeing how panicked Eli seemed to be.

"How do they make our images scream at us?"

"Those aren't us, babe," said Soupy.

Eli realised he was right. Not all of the images were of them. Some of the girls were black, some were adults nearly half a metre taller than her, and others had red or blonde hair.

"Why would he do that?" asked Eli.

"To cheat us out of five bucks," said Soupy. "The more he can freak us out and disorientate us, the less likely we are to escape the maze in time to get our prize.

"Well, I'm going back, money or no money," said Eli. But when she turned, she realised there was no sign of the door that they had entered the maze through, and she had no idea how to escape the mirror maze. "There's no escape!"

"Of course there is, babe, just don't panic. That's what Gutenberg is relying on. The more claustrophobic and turned about the mirrors make you, the less likely you are to be able to claim the five bucks."

"We must have been in here at least ten minutes already!"

"Nah, just seems like it because we're both a little freaked out! The screaming faces are a clever gimmick! Don't know how he projects them, but it gives new meaning to, 'It's all done with mirrors'!"

"Yeah, well, my face will be screaming soon, if we don't escape this dump!"

"Relax, babe, it's no big deal," insisted Soupy. However, seeing that some of the faces seemed to be laughing at their confusion, he started to think, Eli's right, this is the least fun I've had in years."

Soupy didn't know how it happened, but one second he was arm-in-arm with Eli, the next minute her arm slipped from his grasp.

"Eli?" he called. Looking around, he expected to see her standing beside him. However, there was no sign of the teenage girl. Not even her image staring out of the mirror maze.

"Eli?" he called again, a little panicked, knowing that she would never have left him there if she'd somehow found a way out. "Eli! Eli! Eli!"

He risked running back the way he had come, looking every which way for her, starting to fear he would never see her again. Then, catching a glance of Eli at the end of the corridor, he started running after her, still calling Eli's name as he ran.

"Eli!" he called again, just before running full pelt into the mirror at the end of the corridor.

Shrieking, Soupy fell to the mirrored floor, with shards of glass falling down upon him, gashing his face and body.

"Eli?" he called, looking up.

Only to see Eli's face silently screaming down at him from a dozen mirrors that surrounded him.


After lunch, Terri and the others returned to the blue Lexus to continue patrolling Glen Hartwell.

"Mind if we have a little music?" asked Sheila, turning on the CD player before Terri or Colin could reply:

"I'll have a black, black Christmas

"And an unhappy New Year

"How can I think of Christmas things

"Without my baby near,

"I'll have a black, black Christmas

"A black, black Christmas

"Dah doo dah doo dah dah."

"Let me guess," said Terri, "The Devil's Advocates have re-released their Black Christmas album this year?"

"Yep, it's roaring up the charts again."

"Could we skip the title track?" asked Colin.

"If you insist," said Sheila, sounding surprised. She pressed the Next button, and it started to play a ballad:

"Christmas time does not bring cheer

"Without your father standing near,

"Poor young Joanie cried and cried

"On the day her daddy died.


"Leaning across the Christmas feast

"Happy times would soon be fleet,

"Thomas starts to thank the Lord

"Then, crying out, falls to the floor.


"The ambulance arrived too late

"To save poor Thomas from his fate,

"A heart attack at just thirty-nine

"Now Christmas is the saddest time.


"Christmas is the saddest time of year

"Christmas is a time that's ever drear,

"No more father for us to love

"The Lord took Thomas up above, so

"Christmas is the saddest time of year

"Christmas is the saddest time of year."

"That's a true story, the group's songwriter saw his mate, Thomas, at church the Sunday before Christmas 2022, and as they were leaving, Thomas waved and said, 'See you next week'. But the next week he was told Thomas had died in front of his wife and kids on Christmas Day."


At Wentworth Street, in Glen Hartwell, Lizzie Chong was preening in front of the bathroom mirror when suddenly a second image appeared in the mirror. Looking like Lizzie, but screaming."

"Eli!" cried Lizzie before fainting to the linoleum-covered floor.

"Lizzie," called her brother, Nate, from outside. He tried to open the bathroom door, then ,when it wouldn't budge, he looked back and called, "Mum, Lizzie is hibernating in the bathroom again."

Taking an Allen Key from a drawer outside the bathroom, Catherine Chong opened the bathroom door and shrieked when she saw Lizzie unconscious on the floor.

"Sis!" cried Nate, pushing past his mum into the small bathroom to help his sister. However, as he stepped inside, he saw what looked like Lizzie's image screaming down at him in each of the three bathroom cabinet mirrors.


Forty minutes later, Lizzie, Nate, and Catherine Chong had all been ambulanced to the Glen Hartwell and Daley Community Hospital, leaving Terri Scott, Sheila Bennett, and Colin Klein to stare in amazement at the silently screaming image of Eli Chong, which still appeared in the three mirrors.

Sheila filmed the image on her phone for a couple of minutes, then said, "So what now, Chief?"

"You got me," admitted the ash blonde.

They were still staring at the mirror image, reflecting someone who wasn't there, when they received a call to say that Heinrick 'Soupy' Sales was missing.


"He was going for a walk with his girlfriend," said Sandra Sales.

"Eli Chong," said Sheila, having an epiphany as she said it. "Something tells me that was Eli Chong in the mirrors, not Lizzie!"

"You could be right," said Colin, "since she never came home while we were over at Wentworth Street.

"We'd better return to Wentworth Street before putting out an APB on both of them," said Terri.


After confirming that Eli Chong had not returned home, Terri rang through to the Mitchell Street Police Station, where Suzette Cummings was on phone duty. Informing Suzette of the two missing teens they then called in as many local cops as available: Drew Braidwood, a tall lanky blond constable; Donald Esk, a tall brown-haired Sergeant of forty; Paul Bell nearly sixty, a tall lean raven haired man; Stanlee Dempsey a huge ox of a man, with raven hair, Jessie Baker, a powerfully built redheaded man, plus four pro rata police women, only called up to duty when extra policing was needed: Wendy Pearson a forty-something honey blonde, who looked more like a fashion model than a cop; Hilly (Hildegarde) Hindmarsh, just turned fifty-seven, a tall, buxom, blonde; Greta Goddard, a tall, shapely silver-blonde, just turned seventy, but still fit and active; and Alice Walker, a forty-six-year-old brunette.

"Okay, pair off and start along different streets," instructed Terri Scott, grateful that daylight saving meant that they still had a few hours of sunlight to hunt for the lost teens.


Gertrude 'Gert' Holmes-a-Court a sixteen-year-old Goth chick with bright green-and-black striped hair, and her boyfriend, Justin Blake, a tall freckle-faced redheaded boy, were walking arm and arm down Abel Tasman Drive. Unlike Eli Chong and Soupy Sales, the teens didn't bother stopping at the Spectra Theatre Complex at 227. They had seen 'Joker: Folie a Deux' a week ago, and unlike most people, had really liked it.

Instead, they stopped at the milk bar next door and stepped inside.

"What'll it be, babe?" asked Justin as they looked in through the glass top of the ice cream freezer just inside the door.

"Do you have any Eskimo Pies?" asked Gert.

"Ah-ah," teased the proprietor, Harry Hanley. "Don't be politically incorrect! These days they're called Polar Pies."

"Political correctness," said Gert with a sigh, parroting one of her uncle John's favourite sayings. "Very well, do you have any Polar Pies?"

"Yep," said Justin, opening the freezer to take out two ice creams.

"Just be grateful they didn't end up calling them ... Inuit Bars," said Harry. "Seriously, they toyed with that name for a while."

"Political correctness," repeated Gert, shaking her head as they went across to pay for the two ice creams.

Still arm in arm, the teens continued leisurely down Abel Tasman Drive, eating their Polar Pies, until they reached Frederick Gutenberg's Mirror Maze at number 73.

"What the Hell is a mirror maze?" asked Gert as they stopped.

"It's sometimes called a house of mirrors," explained Frederick Gutenberg. Then, when the two teens looked bored, as though intending to wander away, he said, "It's a maze which has mirrors for walls to disorientate you as you try to find your way out."

"Like a fun house?" asked Gert.

"If you like," said Gutenberg, hastening to add, "It's free for teenagers, just for today." Then, when Gert and Justin continued to hesitate, "With a prize of five dollars each if you can escape the maze in less than five minutes."

"Easy peasy," said Gerty, leading Justin toward the entranceway. "I've always been great at puzzles, this'll be no different."

"Any easy five bucks for each of us," agreed Justin as, arm in arm, the two teens headed into the mirror maze.

A few minutes later, Alice Walker and Hilly Hindmarsh turned up at the maze, holding photos of Eli Chong and Heinrick 'Soupy' Sales.

Showing her badge, Hilly asked, "Have you seen either of these two kids today?"

Gutenberg stared at the photos for nearly a minute before saying, "No, what are they wanted for?"

"They've gone missing," explained Alice.

"Oh, I'm sorry, but I haven't seen them."


Inside the mirror maze, Gert and Justin were having a fun time. Neither was claustrophobic, and they saw their trip through the maze as an easy way to make five dollars.

Taking a green lipstick from her handbag, Gert drew the number 1 on the mirror near the door. Then, as they continued along, she continued to mark the mirrors, until starting as the face of Eli Chong suddenly leapt up at her, screaming silently.

"Eli, you dick," said Gert. Then realising it was just her friend's reflexion, she looked around to see where Eli was standing. "Where the Hell are you, Chong?" Looking around, she said, "She must be hiding here somewhere."

"Why is she silently screaming?" asked Justin.

"To put us off. Old man Gutenberg must have slipped her a couple of bucks to sneak into the maze behind us, to throw us off."

"We're not amused, Chong!" called Justin. Then looking around, "Where the Hell is she?"

"Don't ask me, Eli's always been pretty good at puzzles too," said Gert.. She hastened to add, "Not as good as me though."

"No one's as good at puzzles as you, babe," agreed Justin. He called out, "Okay, Chong, it's you against us now." Then to Gert, "Eat her up, babe!"

"If it's World War Teen you want, Chong, it's World War Teen you'll get," said Gert, careful to keep marking the mirrors with green lipstick.

Fifteen minutes later, Gert was perplexed; despite her vaunted puzzle-solving skills, they still hadn't found their way out of the maze.

"We can't have been going around in circles, I've been carefully numbering mirrors," Gert said aloud. Looking down at the stub of her dark green lipstick, she thought, And I've blown nearly twenty bucks worth of lippy, trying to earn five dollars!

"This is one Hell of a big maze," she said aloud.

When she received no reply, she looked around for Justin to find him missing.

"Where the Hell did he ...?" she began, stopping as she saw her boyfriend's silently screaming face from one, then two, three, four, five different mirrors until he was screaming at her from more than a dozen mirrors. "You sell out!" she said, thinking Justin was working with Eli and Gutenberg to disorientate her.

"Don't expect any special Christmas Present from me this year," shouted Gert. Justin had been begging her for months to let him take her virginity. "You'll be lucky to get a prezzie at all!"

She continued around the mirror maze, startled when Soupy Sales's screaming face joined Eli's and Justin's. Firstly, in different mirrors, then all three were screaming at her from all of the mirrors. How many quislings has Gutenberg roped into this? wondered Gert, using one of her favourite words, which she had picked up from her beloved Uncle John.

For nearly an hour, Gert wandered around the mirror maze, increasingly astonished by how large the maze was, growing slowly frightened as night began to fall, and even inside the maze, darkfall seemed to be descending.

Then, when she was ready to join the mocking faces screaming, she thought she saw a door part open up ahead. Forgetting to mark the way, she ran toward the mirrored door.

"At last!" she cried, running straight at the mirror, which instead of opening to free her from the maze, shimmered and seemed to dissolve into smoke, allowing her to pass into the mirror....

Where she found a world of swirling grey and brown smoke, with Eli Chong, Soupy Sales, Justin Blake, and dozens of other people screaming in terror. No longer silently, as before.

Grabbing Justin's hand, she raced back toward the mirror to attempt to run out again, only to crash headfirst into the mirror, which was solid again, knocking herself out!


Darkfall was descending when Terri rang around again, to see if anyone had had any luck. She was talking to Stanlee Dempsey on her mobile when Suzette Cummings broke in to tell her:

"I've just heard from John Holmes-a-Court that his niece is now missing. She didn't come home for tea."

"Could she be at her boyfriend's house?" asked Terri.

"John didn't say who she was with."

"Justin Blake is her boyfriend," Sheila called into the phone.

"How does she always know that kind of stuff?" asked Suzette. Then, "Hang on, I'll call the Blakes now."

A few minutes later, Suzette came back on the line to announce, "The Blakes thought Justin was over at the Holmes-a-Court house."

"Arrange to get photos from both families," instructed Terri. "Then we'll have to distribute them to the others."

"Will do," said Suzette. Hanging up she left the Mitchell Street Police Station to go collect photos from the Blakes and Holmes-a-Courts herself."


Still screaming, Justin helped Gertrude Holmes-a-Court to her feet. Groggy with a large bump on her forehead, Gert felt around the mirrored entrance, confirming that the mirrors were solid now.

Could we break through the mirror to get back into the maze? thought the Goth chick, although not keen to go back into the maze. Looking around the crowds of screaming people, surrounded by the ever-increasing grey and brown clouds, she thought, Still, it would be better than staying in this awful place.

Trying her best to ignore the screaming people, she took one of her shoes in one hand and covered her eyes with the other hand, before smashing the shoe repeatedly against the mirror.

At first, it seemed the mirror was unbreakable, then finally, small cracks began to show up in the mirror, giving Gert renewed hope. Break, you bastard, break! she thought, starting to tire, but refusing to give in ... until the mirror finally shattered and fell away....

To reveal another large swamp-like area with swirling grey and brown clouds, and more screaming people, some dressed in clothing from the eighteen hundreds and possibly earlier!


It was 10:30 PM before Terri called off the search for the night.

"But I want everyone back on search duty by 7:00 AM tomorrow," instructed Terri. Then to Donald Esk, "And tomorrow bring Slap, Tickle, and Rub. We'll start them from three of the four houses and see where we go from there."

"Will do, Chief," said Don as he and the others went home for a very late tea.

"Wonder if the others had their tea at the Yellow House, or whether they're all waiting for us?" asked Sheila as she turned the blue Lexus toward Merridale.

"Hopefully they've all been fed," said Terri.

"Or it won't be just Tommy whinging about having to wait for us," added Colin Klein.

"Aw, she could settle him down with a few glasses of plonk," said Sheila.

"What about Natasha and Leo?" asked Terri, "They're teetotallers."


At 6:00 AM, Terri, Sheila, and Colin sat down to a simple breakfast of crumpets and Vegemite.

"Before heading to Mitchell Street, we might go collect Bulam-Bulam," said Terri, wiping her upper lip and spreading a long vegemite moustache along it. Seeing Colin and Sheila snickering, she asked, "What?"

"Nothing, sir ... I mean marm," teased Sheila.

Colin licked a napkin, then rubbed it along Terri's upper lip, only spreading the long black smear further.

"Why do we need the old bloke, when we'll have Slap, Tickle, and Rub?" asked Sheila, doing her best to ignore Terri's Vegemite-mo.

"With his tracking skills, he might pick up something the dogs miss ... Look, why is everyone laughing at me?"

Picking up a wet wipe from one of the surfaces, Deidre Morton gave Terri's upper lip a proper rub down.

"Now, blow," teased Colin, making them all laugh.


By 7:00 AM, the police-blue Lexus pulled up at the Mitchell Street Police Station, where they found the others waiting for them.

Struggling to hold onto the three dogs, Don Esk and Lisa Williams, Don's fiancée, managed to stay on their feet against the pull of the excited Alsatian-crosses.

"So, where to first, Chief?" asked Don, as Terri and the others alighted from the Lexus.

"You and Stanlee can start at the Sales house with Slap; Lisa, and Jessie can take Tickle to the Holmes-a-Court residence, and the mad Goth chick can hold onto Rub, while she and Drew start at the Blake house."

"Are you sure Sheils can handle Rub?" asked Lisa.

"If he gives me any grief, I'll bite him," teased Sheila.

"I hope he's had his rabies shots," teased Colin, "in case she really does bite him."

"How dare you?" said Sheila, pretending to be angry, although her broad grin gave it away.


Twenty-five minutes later, Colin, Terri, and Bulam-Bulam, a tall grey-haired Aboriginal Elder, and part-time police tracker, were at Wentworth Street outside the Chong house. With Lizzie, Cathy, and Nate Chong still at the Glen Hartwell and Daley Community Hospital, they were unable to get inside the house, however, the sixty-six-year-old man soon detected teenage footprints, barely visible to the naked eye.

"Okay, let's go," said Bulam-Bulam, and the three of them set out on foot along Wentworth Street.


Sheila, Drew Braidwood, and Rub were in Howard Street, Glen Hartwell, not far from the Cosy Rest Retirement Home. Darlene Blake had provided them with an old pair of Justin's smelly sports socks, in the Geelong Football Club's blue and white colours.

"Go Cats," said Sheila as they started out. When Rub growled, the Goth chick said, "Who'd'a known he knew what the K.A.T. word meant."

"The worst bit is, she's serious," said Drew to Rub.


Desmond 'Bogey' Bogart and Cindy Murphy were strolling along Abel Tasman Drive, grateful to be off school, hoping to do some last-minute Christmas shopping.

"So who ya still got to buy for?" asked Bogey, a tall, anorexically thin seventeen-year-old albino boy of seventeen.

"My parents and Aunty Paulina," said Cindy, a short, pale-skinned redhead with long braids. "Aunty Paulina is easy to buy for, a massive box of chockies is all she ever wants."

"That explains why she's so massive," teased Bogey.

"Yeah, but she is my favourite aunt."

"'Cause she always gives you fifty bucks for your present?" teased Bogey.

"Well, I ain't gonna hate her for that," admitted Cindy, and the two teens burst into laughter.

They were still laughing and joking around when they reached 73 Abel Tasman Drive and read: FREDERICK GUTENBERG'S MIRROR MAZE.


Over at Providence Street, Donald Esk and Stanlee Dempsey were taking turns struggling to control Slap as they headed down toward Wentworth Street.

"Calm down, you malodorous mutt," chided Stanlee.

"How dare you? He's not malodorous," complained Don, seconds before Slap broke wind, almost causing the two burly policemen to pass out.

"You were saying," demanded Stanlee smugly.

"Okay, okay, I spoke too soon," admitted Don as they turned left into Wentworth Street, almost at a run.


At the opposite side of Glen Hartwell, at Theobald Street, Lisa Williams and Jessie Baker were struggling to hold onto Tickle, as the Alsatian-cross, yelping excitedly, did his best to pull them both off their feet as it followed Gertrude Holmes-a-Court's scent through Glen Hartwell.


Staring up at the sign, Cindy asked, "What the Hell is a mirror maze?"

"The ultimate in fun, suspense, and entertainment for children of all ages," said Frederick Gutenberg, doing his best to lure the two teens inside.

"How so?" asked Bogey, doing his best to sound unimpressed.

Spreading his arms wide, Gutenberg said: "It's fabulous ... Grabulous ..."

"Scabulous," teased Bogey, making Cindy laugh, and Gutenberg glare at him.

"Hardly," said Gutenberg, pausing for a second before adding, "Did I mention it's free for teenagers ... today only?" When the teens hesitated, he added, "If you can escape the maze in less than five minutes, you receive five dollars each to spend however you like."

"That would help with Aunty Paulina's Chrissy Chockie," said Cindy, heading toward the glass doors.

Looking less enthusiastic, Bogey reluctantly started after his girlfriend.


"Slow down, Muttley," called Sheila, as the muscular Goth chick struggled to stay on her feet against the pull of the excited dog.

As Rub yelped again, Drew said, "I don't think he liked being called Muttley."

"He won't like it, if I kick him in the knackers either," said Sheila, almost colliding with Donald Esk, as Slap almost dragged them down Wentworth Street, alongside Sheila and Drew.

"The race is on," said Don as the two dogs yelped excitedly, still almost pulling over their handlers.

"We seem to be on the right track anyway," agreed Stanlee.

They had just reached the corner of Wentworth Street and Abel Tasman Drive when they heard excited barking behind them. Looking around, they saw Lisa Williams and Jessie Baker running flat out to keep up with Tickle yelping excitedly as he ran.

"Eve'nin all," teased Jessie as the three couples met up.

"Well, it seems the three teens all headed in the same direction," stated Sheila Bennett as they headed down Abel Tasman.

"Looks like it," agreed Jessie Baker as they raced past the Spectra Theatre Complex at 227 Abel Tasman Drive.

"Quieten down!" Don called to his three dogs, without any success.

"I'm gonna have to stop soon," cried Lisa.

"For breath?" asked Don.

"Nah, I'm thinking of having a heart attack!"

They were all panting when they reached FREDERICK GUTENBERG'S MIRROR MAZE at 73 Able Tasman Drive.

"Thank God," said Colin as the dogs stopped outside the mirrored door.

They were all wheezing for breath, including Slap, Tickle, and Rub, without anyone realising why the dogs had stopped ... when the three dogs started whining and yelping in terror.

Caught unawares, Lisa was pulled off her feet as Slap, Tickle, and Rub reversed direction and started running back toward the corner of Abel Tasman and Wentworth.

Fortunately, Lisa managed to release Tickle's leash before being pulled backwards across the concrete footpath.

"Come back here, you craven canines!" shouted Donald Esk, as he and Sheila helped Lisa back to her feet.

"What's got into them?" asked Lisa.

"Either it's their dinner time, or they're not keen to enter Frederick Gutenberg's Mirror Maze ... Whatever that is?" suggested Stanlee Dempsey.

"Yellow cowards," Don shouted.

"They're Alsatians ... they can't help being yellow," pointed out Jessie.

"What the Hell is this place?" asked Sheila, "I didn't know we had a house of mirrors in Glen Hartwell."

"And Sheils normally knows everything and everyone from BeauLarkin to Willamby," teased Jessie.

"They musta opened up in the last couple of days," said Sheila, "Actually, I think this is where Benny Ball's Pool Hall used to be."

"That was a good recovery, Sheils," teased Lisa.

"So where the Hell is Frederick Gutenberg?" asked Drew. "Shouldn't he be open for business at this time of day?"

"Especially a few days away from Christmas, when all the kids are already off school," said Lisa Williams.

"Yes," agreed Sheila, "this is the sort of place nosey kids couldn't keep away from..."

She had barely said it, when they all thought the same thing:

"So maybe the four missing kids couldn't stay away from it," suggested Drew Braidwood.

"Should we go inside?" asked Lisa, pushing tentatively at the mirrored front door.

As the door swung inwards, Sheila said, "Nothing dentured, nothing gained."

She already had a foot on the step of the doorway when they heard the voice of Bulam-Bulam calling from behind them, "Stop! Stop! Don't go inside!"

Panting from exhaustion, Bulam-Bulam, Colin Klein, and Terri Scott finally caught up with the others outside the mirror maze.

"What's up?" asked Sheila, having to wait until the native Elder had recovered his breath.

Finally, Bulam-Bulam said, "Dream Time Legends talk of mirrored passageways leading to evil, nightmare realms."

"Aw, come off it, you lot didn't have mirrors before the white invasion," teased Sheila Bennett.

"Not glass mirrors, with a silver backing," admitted Bulam-Bulam. "But we had reflexions in ponds, billabongs, off shiny rocks, et cetera. And the Dreaming Time talks of horrid realms full of unnameable monsters that can only be reached from reflective surfaces.

"So, what's our next move, Chief?" asked Sheila, one foot still upon the doorstep as they all looked toward Terri Scott.

Terri asked Bulam-Bulam, puzzled, "So what does the Dream Time say about rescuing people from mirror worlds or realms?"

"I will need to consult with my fellow Elders at the Gooladoo Tribe," said Bulam-Bulam. "In the meantime, keep a guard on all entrances to this place, don't let anyone go inside, and take the owner into custody if he suddenly appears."


Normally, the Gooladoo tribe performed corroborees in their ceremonial ground, a circle ringed by great basalt stones three to four metres tall, with just a small entranceway. However, for the mirroring ritual, they had moved a hundred metres away to a clearing in the sweet-smelling pine and eucalyptus forest. In the middle of the clearing was a large billabong, filled with what at first seemed like oil or some black sludge. Then, as they approached Terri, Colin, and Sheila could vaguely make out their reflexions in the pond and realised that it was water, made to look black by the sludge on the bottom of the billabong.

"Look, black water," said Sheila, almost falling into the pond as she leant forward.

"Famous seer, John Dee, used to scry in a bowl of Indian ink," said Colin.

"Should I know what that means?" asked Sheila.

"He supposedly could see into the future."

Co-hosting the corroboree with Bulam-Bulam was Agnes Wandin-Din, an elderly lubra, who taking advantage of the summer weather, went topless, pretending not to notice when young bucks couldn't keep their eyes off her huge pendulous breasts.

Grinning widely, Agnes slowly, sensuously applied layers of different coloured ochre clay to her huge breasts, enjoying the excitement of bucks a third of her age.

Finally, they were ready to begin when Terri's mobile phone rang.


Outside the mirror maze at Abel Tasman Drive, Drew Braidwood was on watch at the rear door of the maze when he heard movement around the side of the remarkably small store. Looking around the corner, he saw a tall Slavic-looking man with a long black beard, dressed in a shiny coat, tampering with a window of the maze.

"Hey, you!" called Drew, running toward the man.

Without looking around, Gutenberg managed to force the window open enough to pull himself inside the maze.

The tall, lanky blond constable started to climb in through the window also, then, thinking better of it, he stopped, took out his mobile phone and rang through to Terri Scott for advice.


Ignoring the glares from Bulam-Bulam and Agnes Wandin-Din, Terri opened her mobile phone and listened to Drew for a moment.

"Stay there, watching, but don't go into the mirror maze," instructed the blonde policewoman. Then to the Elders, "Sorry."

After glaring at Terri for a suitable time, Bulam-Bulam and Agnes started dancing and chanting around the billabong, occasionally throwing handfuls of ceremonial powder into the fire. The powder exploded on contact with the water and bubbles began to form upon the water as though it were boiling.

After the longest ten minutes in her life, Terri Scott saw the black water start to film over with a whitish patina.

What the Hell? thought Terri, as vague images started to appear upon the patina.

At first incomprehensible, the images slowly began to increase in size and clarity, taking on the shape of human faces. Amongst them Eli Chong, Soupy Sales, Justin Blake, Gert Holms-a-Court, Cindy Murphy, and Desmond 'Bogey' Bogart.

Spotting the last two, Sheila called, "Bogey and Cindy Murphy? Have they been reported as missing?"

"Not to my knowledge," whispered Terri.

Most of the faces, however, were unknown to them.


Drew Braidwood was still staring into the mirror maze through the side window when there was a whoosh of fiery hot air, which burst out through the window. Lifting the constable like a gigantic hand, the hot wind threw Drew against the corrugated iron fence separating the mirror maze from the next shop.

Unable to even cry out, having had the wind knocked out of him, Drew lay on the ancient grey-brown concrete beneath the fence.

"Drew!" cried Jessie Baker, having heard the explosion. Racing across to his fallen comrade, the huge redheaded man picked up Drew, then, bending low to avoid any more outbursts from the mirror maze, raced to the safety of the back yard.

"What the Hell's happened?" asked Donald Esk, racing around to the back of the maze.

"Something exploded inside the maze," Drew managed to gasp out.


As the corroboree continued, the faces began screaming silently, swirling faster and faster, until they were unrecognisable.

"What's going on?" asked Sheila.

"It's make or break time," guessed Terri Scott.

As Terri spoke, there was a great explosion of sound from the centre of the billabong, a cacophony of screaming voices, some human, some nonhuman, then a mixture of water and foul black mucus spewed up from the pond to cover the three police officers and the dancing Aborigines.


They got Drew to the back fence of the yard just in time, before the entire mirror maze imploded with a mighty bang, which temporarily deafened Drew, Jessie, and Donald Esk.

When their hearing returned, they looked in amazement at the remains of the maze. Millions of shards of mirrored glass filled the wreckage, along with seemingly hundreds of body parts, from the six teenagers, plus Lord knows how many other people. Some of them dressed in mediaevel costumes, others looking more primate than human.


"Oh God, I think it's blood," cried Terri, using her hands to scoop the foul-smelling black mucus off herself.

"Very old, rancid blood," agreed Colin Klein.

"So, is it over now?" Sheila asked Bulam-Bulam.

"I think so," said the old man. "Come on, let's get cleaned up."

He led them across to another billabong a hundred metres or so. This pond had clear, clean water in it.

"Pool party!" shouted Sheila, just before leaping into the billabong fully clothed.

Terri started to tell the Goth chick off, then, shrugging, the ash blonde dived into the water, followed by Colin, Bulam-Bulam, Agnes Wandin-Din, and the other Aborigines.


By the time the mirror maze had been excavated, nearly ten days later, more than three hundred corpses had been discovered amongst the wreckage. Most of the corpses or body parts did not come from the BeauLarkin to Willamby area, and despite DNA testing and the involvement of Interpol, most were never identified.

THE END
© Copyright 2025 Philip Roberts
Melbourne, Victoria, Australia