Ominous Reflections

Duncan hopped off his red and yellow BMX bike and leaned it on the steel stand of an ancient light pole—but not just any light pole. It was the light pole in front of the baseball card shop. Every kid in town knew that light pole. It had been the resting spot for many, many bikes over the years. But now, there was a new shop, located next door to the card shop, called the Castle of Curiosities. It looked like a miniature castle, too, nearly completely square and painted a vibrant white. The outside walls featured uneven and deep, divoted valleys that reminded Duncan of moguls on a ski slope.

He walked sheepishly through the nondescript, wooden front door and closed it behind him. A bell announced his arrival. A middle-aged man appeared from behind a black curtain and stood behind the shop’s tiny counter top. He was tall and thin with dark hair and a smile that both reassured and carried the promise of mischief. “Well, well,” the man exclaimed, hands on his hips, a white rag dangling from one of them. “What have we here? You're our twenty-first customer!” He put the rag down behind the counter and his smile grew larger. “Come in! Come in! See what we’ve got that grabs your eye today, uh, what was your name?”

Duncan shook his head and laughed. “I didn’t say. But it’s Duncan. I noticed the shop yesterday but I was already late and if I’m late, dad doesn’t let me eat so I had to go home.”

The man waved a hand in the air. “Not a problem. Not a problem at all, Duncan! Because you're here now! Have a look-see; something will jump out at you.”

Duncan’s brow sank. “Like, really really?”

The man snickered, his face turning a shade darker momentarily. “Oh, no, no, nothing like that. What I mean is, there’s something here for everyone, and they all find what they’re looking for.”

Duncan tried to work this out in his head, his face scrunched up and his eyes pointed north. “But, if the place just recently opened and no one knows what’s here, how do they know what they're looking for, mister?”

The man shot a thin and pointed finger into the air. “Precisely! You're a sharp one, Duncan. How can I say this differently?” He thought for a moment, a long finger tapping against his temple while he made a comical face. “Aha! Think of it more like this: Folks walk around my shop, and what they really want kind of just, shows up!”

Duncan smiled. “Like magic, mister?”

The man stood up straight and clapped his hands once. “That’s it! Just like magic, son. And, call me Reno. Reno Fogweather.”

“That’s a strange name,” Duncan said before he thought.

Reno laughed. “No more strange than Duncan! In fact,” he said, finger returning to his temple, “I can think of more messed-up things to say about your name than mine.”

Duncan, already feeling bad for saying anything in the first place, took the opportunity to save grace. “Fair,” he said, and gave Reno a salute.

Reno saluted back with a warm smile. “At ease,” he said. “Go. Look around. See what’s here.”

Duncan took in his surroundings. There were shelves galore, and not many with room left to spare. Most of the items on the shelves were too far away for Duncan to see clearly. There were glass display cases, too, dotted throughout the space. Some were taller than others, and a few had yellowed with time, their glass panels foggy and their ancient chrome now dull and scratched.

Duncan, not wanting Reno to tell him to look around again, picked an aisle and shuffled to it, eyes scanning everywhere. The first thing he picked up was a small, wooden-framed mirror that looked very old. His chubby, pale face stared back at him for a moment. The red baseball cap he wore, which was brand new and bright as any summer day, appeared worn and dirty, almost burnt on one spot, in the reflection. Old glass is weird, Duncan thought.

As if Reno had read Duncan's mind, he spoke once more. "Do you know what that is?" he asked.

Duncan shrugged. "A mirror. But it's broken, or something."

Reno smiled and drew a breath. "That's not just any mirror. And it's definitely not broken. You see, that's a magic looking glass. It can show you things."

Duncan giggled and tapped the wooden frame. "Yeah, well, it's showing me an old and nasty baseball hat and you can clearly see mine is new. So it's broken."

"Incorrect, young sir. Here. Let me show you." Reno strolled over and stood beside Duncan. He slowly edged his own face into the frame with Duncan's, and Duncan gasped. The man now had a good-sized black eye. Duncan looked directly at Reno and the bruising wasn't there. Back to the mirror. Black eye. Back to Reno. Nothing there. Reno laughed nervously. "Oh, my. It seems that I, ummmm, may run into a spot of trouble here soon. Dear me."

Duncan wasn't amused, and he spoke while backing away. "Mister? I mean, Mister Reno? Why does it do that? What does it mean?"

Reno, sensing Duncan was on the edge of leaving, placed a thin hand on his shoulder. "Now now, there, nothing to fear. It's a real looking glass, not simply a mirror. It shows things to come. So somewhere in my near future, it seems somebody may have a disagreement with me. Or, I suppose, I could open a door too quickly. But either way, that's coming," he said, pointing to his eye.

"So the mirror really works like that?"

"Looking glass," Reno corrected. "And yes. Absolutely."

"Whoa. Crazy. You're not bothered knowing you're going to get busted in the eye soon? How far away does it see?"

"In my experience, three days to a week or so. I don't have long, do I?" Reno chuckled softly. "And no. It doesn't bother me. Not much. If I've learned anything during my time in this world, it's that worry isn't anyone’s friend. All he wants to do is rob us of our peace. Don't allow it, Duncan."

Duncan nodded silently. "Well, it's cool and all, but I get an allowance and I'm sure that's like a million dollars. I'll keep looking around."

"You assume too much, young friend. In fact today, that looking glass, which can see into the future and which is clearly very, very old, is only five dollars."

"Five dollars?" Duncan's voice was high with excitement. "Jeez, Mister Reno, I could buy two!"

Reno blinked and smiled. "See? I told you. They all find their thing. What do you say we get that into a box for you?"

Duncan beamed. "You betcha!"

***

When Duncan got home with his new prize in hand, he ran upstairs and hid it in the top drawer of his nightstand. Then he did his homework and he ate his dinner and he washed up and then he climbed in to bed with his new favorite book, from a series about lions, witches, and wardrobes. He had intended to explore the looking glass further, but he fell asleep with the lamp on and a thin white book open on his chest.

The next morning, right after he rubbed his eyes and opened them, he reached for the drawer, grabbed the looking glass, and held it up. This time, he smiled along with his reflection, until he realized his reflection had been smiling first. He dropped the strange mirror, which landed softly on the comforter stretched across his bed. He began to think. So, if I was happy in the reflection, that means it’s really in the future! He set a goal, then, to look for a reason to be happy so that its prediction would prove true. Was that how it worked, he thought. He didn’t know, but he saw no reason not to try.

It did work. Like magic. Somewhere around two that afternoon. Although the day had been rather mundane and blasé, because he hadn't given up and had persistently searched for things that might make him happy, he had actually become happy. In fact, there were more happy things in everyday life than he would formerly have believed. He found himself appreciating a beautiful flying bird, and the way Kelly Tipperson’s plaid skirt clung to her legs in History class. How shiny the floors were in the hallways. Why had he never noticed that?

He pedaled his bike home faster than usual that afternoon, butterflies in his stomach. He leaned the handlebars against the garage door and scurried inside, where his mother, looking concerned, intercepted him in the kitchen. “How was school, Dunc?”

Duncan nodded, still smiling unconsciously. “It was good. Real good! Nothing out of the ordinary. I was just in a great mood.”

She half-smiled. “Fantastic. Say, can we talk quick?” Duncan gave a nod, his smile thinner now. “So, before you get angry, I was only looking for batteries. My remote died and there were none in the junk drawer, so I headed to your room because I know you have all those gaming controllers.” She produced the looking glass from behind her back. “That’s when I found this. Is it a novelty mirror? There’s something not right about it.”

Duncan's eyes widened and his face turned red. “Umm, yeah, I’m sorry. I got it down at this new shop next to the baseball card place. Sells magic and trick stuff, things like that.” His mother nodded, but her expression said she still needed more, so Duncan thought for a moment. “It’s a joke mirror. It shows crazy things instead of what’s actually there.”

“I see,” she replied. There was relief in her tone, but not much. “Well, I don’t like it. At all. How does it work? And how much did this abomination cost?”

“Five bucks. It wasn't bad. And I didn’t even buy any baseball cards! I still have five dollars left, mom.” She continued staring at him, and the look on her face made Duncan uncomfortable. “Why don’t you like it?” he asked.

“What does it show you?” his mother replied.

Duncan shrugged. “I haven't had a lot of time to mess with it. But at the shop, it just showed my brand new hat as old and ragged. It was funny!”

His mother handed him the looking glass. “Is that still what it shows?”

Duncan held it up and the hat looked the same, nasty and worn for too long, with a black mark toward the top. “Yeah.” He giggled. “Come see!”

His mother walked behind him and leaned into the frame.

She was dead. Blue and gray and splotched and dead.

Duncan yelped and dropped the looking glass to the linoleum floor. There was a pop when it landed face down on the heavy side. Duncan picked it up and turned it over: shattered. Amazingly, even though there were now a thousand hats in the reflection, they were all still old and ratty. “Okay, it still works. Mom, this isn't good. I was kidding. It isn't a joke mirror. It shows the actual, real future.”

His mother pulled out a chair and sat down at their old and simple kitchen table. “But how can that be?”

The smile was completely gone from Duncan’s face now. “I don’t know. Mom. Mom! Oh, this is bad. Let me think. The guy said it doesn’t see that long into the future. Sometimes the same day, sometimes a week, but always pretty near. I think that’s what he said. Oh, I don’t remember!”

She reached over and grabbed his hand. “Dunc. It’s okay. We’ll figure this out. Has it shown you anything else besides the old hat?”

“Yes. Today, before I left for school, I looked into it and my reflection was smiling before I was. Swear to god. I took that as a sign I should look for things that were happy. And then I was happy! I don’t think it’s ever wrong.”

She held out her hand and asked if she could see it again, and Duncan released the broken looking glass to his mother. She turned it over and shook her head. “Still there. Lordy, I’m nasty. But I don’t see any cuts. I was thinking car accident. I’m going to take this into the bedroom real fast, see what it shows on my body.”

“I hadn't thought about that,” Duncan said. “Yeah, okay. Oh, man, this isn't good,” he repeated thinly.

“Dunc,” his mother consoled. “Don't worry. We won't know more until we do. I’ll be right back.”

He watched as she walked out of the kitchen. Her gait. The smell of her perfume. Her house clothes. The way she wore her hair, and the color—a deep brown with red highlights. All these things were his mom. And she was going to die?He resented the purchase of the looking glass now. Why had that stood out to him? Why not a lamp that grants wishes, or a wagon that could fly?

He was still contemplating when his mother returned to the kitchen. She had tears in her eyes. “It’s bad, Dunc. I don’t know if what this shows will actually come true like you say, but if it does, we’re in trouble. It looks real. Are you sure this thing works like that?”

Duncan nodded. “So far, yeah.”

His mother sighed and handed it back to him. He didn’t look. Instead, he placed it face down on the table again. “What are we going to do?” he asked.

“Well, I think, first, we should trot down to this new store and ask the owner everything he knows about this mirror,” his mother said.

“Looking glass,” Duncan corrected.

Her face said careful, kid, I’m a little unstable right now and you're going to annoy me? “What?” she asked.

“Looking glass. Not mirror. Sorry. He was pretty adamant down at the shop yesterday.”

“Looking glass, not mirror,” she repeated, almost to herself. “Got it. Is he open?”

“I would imagine so,” Duncan said.

Ten minutes later, his mother parked the family sedan out front of the Castle of Curiosities. After speaking for nearly half an hour with the man who called himself Reno Fogweather, Duncan’s mother learned there was nothing to be done. The looking glass was what it was and whatever she saw? Well, that’s the way it was to be. “Can’t be blamed on anything but fate and chance,” he’d told her. “I’m sorry, ma’am.”

***

“I just wish I knew how long,” she finally said to Duncan while they were sitting in the car afterward, the engine idling as a Genesis song quietly announced there wasn't enough love to go round in this land of confusion. “This is the craziest thing in the world,” she continued. “It’s not even a medical diagnosis!” Her voice was nearing shrill. “Some dumb trick mirror and I’m supposed to believe it’s all over in what… a week? Two? A month? Does it even matter? I mean, I still looked like me! Just… you know…”

“Don't say it, mom,” Duncan interrupted from the passenger seat. “We’ll just watch you very closely over the next month or so, right? Make sure nothing happens.”

She mussed up his hair and put the car in reverse. “Oh, sweet boy, I don’t think it works like that. Not if that thing is what he said it is.” She put the car in drive and turned out of the parking lot, onto the road that led to their neighborhood. “Come to think of it, I have had the sniffles lately. Figured it was just allergies.”

Duncan turned to her. “Don't talk like that! If you accept it then it’s all over, right? Hey, I have an idea! I’ll wear another hat and we’ll keep this one safe. If my hat doesn’t get dirty and worn out, then the glass was wrong and it’ll be wrong about you, too, because we’re together!”

The logic wasn't lost on his mother. “All right, Dunc, we can try that.” Even at twelve years old, Duncan could see she didn’t believe. And, so, he knew he had to.

They pulled into the driveway and Duncan made a bee line for his room, fast as his feet would carry him. He came out wearing his old and dirty blue hat and showed his mother that the new hat was in a shoe box, and that he even had a lid. “What can happen to it now? You stay around this hat, and nothing happens to you, either. It’s brilliant!”

She closed her eyes and took the box with a faraway smile on. “I will. I won't let it get more than a foot from me. I promise.” She hugged him, long and tight, almost squeezing the breath out of him in the last few seconds. “It’s a great idea. It’s the best idea.”

He backed up and smiled at her. “We got this, mom.”

“We do, kiddo. Say, I feel like a bath. Seeing myself like that, it… yeah, I’m going to take a bath.”

“Okay, mom. Take the box with you!” Duncan said.

Thirteen minutes later, the lights in the house went out when the radio his mother had been listening to fell into the bath tub and the resulting electric shock took her life. The police came and were there a long time. Dad finally got home and everyone cried.

When they were done in the bathroom and his mother’s body had been removed, one detective came out with a cardboard shoe box that had a red hat inside. “This yours, kid?” he said, and handed Duncan the box. “It was, uhhh, by the outlet. Got a little cooked.”

“Yeah,” Duncan said, and put the ball cap on. It looked old, and worn. Burnt in one spot.