Curtain Call, Part 1

Valerie lowered herself into the chair beside the hospital bed.

"Hey, Dad."

Her father smiled weakly. His face was pale and his hair graying, but he still had that familiar twinkle in his eyes.

"I found a way to pay for your treatment," Valerie said.

"You haven't been working too hard on my behalf, I hope." His voice was higher-pitched than she remembered.

"Don't worry about me."

"It's a father's duty to worry about his little girls. How's your sister?"

"She's... fine."

He raised an eyebrow. "When's the last time you talked to her?"

Valerie held her tongue.

Her father let out a raspy sigh. "See, this is why I worry."

"She can take care of herself. So can I." She took his hand and squeezed it, feeling the bones beneath the gaunt flesh.

"She'll be around a lot longer than I will, so make sure you patch things up with her," he said with a dry cough.

Valerie frowned at him. "You're not going anywhere. We're going to get through this, but it will take time. I need you to hang in there until then. Promise?"

Her father nodded slowly.

"Good."

He turned toward the window and spoke to the dying sunlight. "Do you remember how I used to call you my 'little rabbit?' You were always so full of energy, always running around..."

"Stay with me, Dad." Val pursed her lips.

***

At the far end of the room, about thirty feet from the door, was a small, wooden stage. Descending from the ceiling behind it was a crimson curtain that covered the far wall. Nearby was a large standing closet. A spotlight aimed toward the stage and a projector pointed in the opposite direction were overhead, both of which were turned off. Wall sconces shielded from the front provided ambient lighting, and in combination with the charcoal gray carpet and walls, the room was rendered somewhat dim, though not uncomfortably so.

As Valerie took all of this in, she made eye contact with the blond man sitting on the stage, smoking a cigarette, and her expression relaxed.

"Long time no see, Roman."

"Not long enough," he said in a sarcastic tone. "Didn't I tell you to quit while you were ahead?"

"I guess I just couldn't get enough of you," she said with a teasing grin.

Roman snorted. "Your third time's the hardest, you know."

"Didn't you say that last time?"

He smirked and exhaled a cloud of smoke.

There was another person in the room—a tall brunette woman with generous curves. She was standing near the closet, watching Roman and Valerie. When there was a lull in their conversation, she hesitantly introduced herself as Mara. Valerie and Roman both introduced themselves in turn.

"I take it you two know each other," she said.

"Yes, but don't worry," Valerie said, "you're in good company. All of us can walk away from this in one piece."

Roman sighed. "You're still saying stuff like that? You shouldn't make promises you can't keep. Remember last time?"

"Of course I do. That's exactly why I'm saying it."

Mara glanced between them.

"Let's work together as best we can," Valerie said, extending her hand. Cautiously, Mara shook it.

The lights dimmed slightly, and everyone went quiet. Roman dropped down from the stage in anticipation. The overhead projector came to life, and images flashed against the back wall.

It was silent, black and white footage of what Valerie quickly realized was a film adaptation of The Wizard of Oz, though not one she recognized. The Scarecrow, the Tin Man, and the Cowardly Lion were up to some exaggerated shenanigans in what was presumably the Emerald City. Suspiciously, Dorothy was absent, and the video appeared to be reversed at some points. Before Valerie could try to make sense of any of this, the footage abruptly cut to white numbers against a black background—a countdown. Fifty-nine minutes remained. Then the scene began playing again from the start.

Valerie glanced sideways at Roman. He was frowning and scratching at his beard while watching the video. Her gaze lingered on him for a while before he noticed.

"What?"

"You look like you have something to share with the class," Valerie said.

"Nothing specific yet. This might be a tricky one."

"Just say what's on your mind."

Roman looked at her and shrugged. "Alright. The projector is too high to reach, the closet is fixed to the ground and locked, and the exit door has two keyholes. That's all I've got. I'm not sure what to make of this film yet."

"What about the curtain?" Valerie asked.

"Nothing interesting. Just a wall behind it," Roman said, shaking his head.

"Doesn't it seem strange to you, though? Wouldn't a curtain normally be in front of the stage?"

"Could be simple set dressing." His eyes were drawn back to the monochrome footage.

Valerie looked around. The stage and curtain were conspicuous, but Roman was probably right. The room's far more interesting feature was the standing closet. Valerie guessed it was six feet tall, four feet wide, and about a foot deep. Its contents were entirely enclosed by its auburn, polished exterior and two large doors. Valerie tested them and was surprised to find they opened.

"I thought this was locked," she called.

"It was."

Carefully, she swung the doors out. The interior was all one open cavity—no shelves or dividers—and lining every surface were dozens of hanging masks. She saw masquerade masks, wrestling masks, masks patterned with the flags of various countries, skull masks of various shapes and colors, masks with horns and devilish smiles, and one golden mask fit for a Pharaoh's tomb. But what caught her eye was the mask sporting a lion's visage.

"Three of us and three characters in Oz," she thought aloud. "Maybe we each take a mask corresponding to one of Dorothy's companions. Here, I bet this one is the Tin Man." She pointed to a silver, shield-shaped mask polished like a mirror.

"It's possible," Mara said from behind her. "Though, how do we know which of us is which character?"

Valerie considered this. "Dorothy meets the characters in a certain order. We could line that up with the order we entered the room." Even as she said it, however, she felt the explanation was inadequate.

A moment later, Roman echoed her concern. "It's too simple. There are too many abnormalities in the video; there must be another layer to this. Do either of you know where this footage is from?"

Valerie and Mara shook their heads. Roman smoked his cigarette.

"What are you thinking?"

"I don't know to what extent the video is manipulated, but... There. See how the Lion's mouth is darkened in close-up shots?" Roman said.

He was right, there was a dark ring around the mouth of the lion costume.

"And the Scarecrow deteriorates. It's like he's falling apart as the film goes on. By the end, there's straw everywhere."

"Straw," Mara mused. She reached into the closet and produced a mask covered with exactly that—a mess of flaxen string layered on a plastic mold with small slits for eyes.

Mara lifted the mask to her face, her gaze fixed on the thing.

"Hey, wait!" Valerie grabbed her arm. "Careful." She knew what would happen to those who solved puzzles incorrectly.

"I..." Mara frowned, looking more confused than anything. "Sorry."

Hesitantly, she put down the mask, but continued staring at it. Valerie watched her for a few moments to ensure she didn't do anything reckless before turning her attention back to the video. If the straw mask corresponded to the Scarecrow, then perhaps a pattern could be established for the remaining two. The straw was the Scarecrow's innards; in other words, his insides were becoming outsides. He wasn't being wounded or even decaying, he was being turned inside out—or reversed.

The Cowardly Lion's costumed face filled the frame. What would happen if you reversed a cowardly lion? In a metaphorical sense, the result might be a courageous lion, or maybe a different animal altogether. In fact, the kind of animal opposite to a lion would be the exact kind a lion might prey upon.

Valerie snapped her fingers. "It's blood."

Roman looked at her.

"The dark stuff around the Lion's mouth is blood. It ate something."

Her eyes raked over the mask collection, narrowing to try to make out details in the dim light. What would a cowardly lion eat? She spotted a fox mask, but that didn't seem right. Then she saw a pink nose and two long, thin ears, and something clicked in her brain.

"Valerie." Roman's hand was on her shoulder.

She blinked. The rabbit mask was in her hands, and she was about to pull its black string over her head.

"What am I doing?" she asked.

"That's what I was going to ask," Roman said.