When I was released from the hospital, the discharge informed me that I had been in a coma for eight months, but something inside my brain told me it was for a lot longer. Upon my discharge from UW Medical Center in Seattle walking on the sidewalk to city transit felt as though I was walking on some distant planet. It felt as if I did not belong here any longer.
The fact I had been the cause of both my wife’s and daughter’s death did not make matters any better. For twelve years we lived in marital bliss, Dora and I in an upscale Laurelhurst home off of Ivanhoe. Clarissa, our daughter was born two years later and showed a lot of academic promise until the accident that ended her life days before her tenth birthday. I remember how she wanted a bicycle. I kept telling her that she had to be careful when she rode if she rode a bicycle in traffic. Those memories are what caused me the greatest pain, not the physical ones I sustained as the only survivor in our two car accident.
It was a rainy winter night when we had an early holiday celebration with the Wilcox’s down near the shore. Ray Wilcox was a junior partner in our law firm with a crop of bright red hair and a beard to match, he bore a resemblance to a mischievous elf. His fiancee Myra Gosling was part owner in a successful health spa up near the University of Washington. With a reputation as a festive couple during the holidays, I decided to take Clarissa since there were rumors a red headed Santa was going to make an appearance.
There was an open bar serving my favorite scotch and I indulged more than I care to admit. There was mistletoe and laughter everywhere on his patio.
“Chet.” He cornered me before donning his costume, “I was wondering about my promotion.”
“Well, I am not in charge of that.” I swallowed down the rest of my scotch and tonic.
“Yeah, I know that, but I also know you hear things.” He winked.
“Not as much as you think.” I shrugged.
“You see, if I get a full partnership, I can ask Myra to marry me.” He smiled as he put the white beard on.
“Isn’t she doing pretty good?” I rocked on my heels.
“Sure, sure, but it would be more secure if I had the full partnership.” He faked another smile as he put a pillow down his shirt.
Feeling the need to have another scotch and tonic, I walked to the bar as Ray put on the rest of his costume, sighing heavily as I walked away.
Felton Shipping took me out to Ripple Island with all of my belongings packed inside two duffle bags. The crossing was choppy as it sometimes can be on Puget Sound as the weather turns colder.
“Mr. Grayscheck, why on earth would you be heading out to Puffin Island?” Captain Felton asked as the motor hummed behind us.
“I just need some time to myself.” I answered.
“Well, Puffin Island is the perfect place to get away from it all.” He whistled.
“I talked to someone who said there was a cabin out there. I checked into it and ended up buying it.” I sat on the bench and peered out the window that was covered with seawater and ice.
“Just a rock in the Sound filled with crazy looking creatures and not much else.” He shook his head as he checked his navigation instruments. “Just east of San Juan Island where they got the big nature preserve. Good for whale watching if that’s whacha inta.”
“No.” I shook my head.
“Hope ya got plenty to keep ya busy. Can be pretty desolate especially during the winter.” He jerked his head back quickly before picking up his hand radio, “Yeah, this is Camp-um Norris Felton head due north to Puffin Point.”
“Roger.” A fuzzy voice acknowledged over the radio.
“See that sky, Mr. Greyscheck?” He pointed at the window in front of him.
“Yeah.”
“Ain’t a good sign for an old salt like me.” He griped, “Sure hope she don’t start spitting down ice. Could make things inner-resting.”
“Cap-um.” One of the crew entered the wheelhouse.
“Hank.”
“We got some breakers gonna give us a rough ride.” He pointed at the rough seas straight ahead.
“Hank here is me son and first mate.” He explained. “He’s been at me elbow out here ever since he was old enough to walk.”
The last ten miles were as bumpy as I could ever imagine. Hank tied himself to the railing of the wheelhouse while his father tied himself into the captain’s chair leaving me to flop around with each hard surge. I am sure this was amusing to both of them.
“Mr. Grayscheck, up ahead.” Felton announced by pointing to the rocky harbor we were headed toward. “That be Puffin Island. You might have a few of them wacky birds be greetin’ ya at the dock.”
Felton sank the bow of his boat into the sandy shore after a few good jolting breakers tossed us a bit as if we were caught on Poseidon's trident. Taking my bags, I tried to walk off the boat onto the dock, but the swirling surf made me stumble and fall face first onto the wobbly dock. After a healthy stream of vomit, I managed to get to my feet.
“Wish ya luck, Mr. Grayscheck.” He saluted from his filthy captain’s cap as he put his motor into reverse. Hank pushed the bow from his position on the dock before leaping onto the deck. I stood there and watched the boat disappear in the fog that was coming in quick.
Turning, I saw the dilapidated cabin in front of me. The door was open held up at an odd angle by only two hinges. As I approached, I saw that the racoons had taken everything worth pilfering from the cabin. Mr. Garrett, my real estate agent, promised me two jerry cans full of kerosene, but the rusty old cans were nearly empty and the lanterns also promised had not been delivered. As the sun sank into the horizon, the cabin loomed in total darkness.
I heard noises. Noises I could not readily identify.
In one of my duffle bags, I had rolled up a sleeping bag and a warm blanket. Quickly I unrolled both in order to have a warm place to sleep. In the morning, I would go out and find some driftwood for the fireplace. Tonight I would be exposed to the elements.
In my other sleeping bags I had supplies. Dehydrated meals and matches.
“Chet.” A voice sounded in the cold breeze.
“Dora?” I stopped to listen.
“Chet.”
It was the wind playing tricks with my hearing.
“Daddy, help me.”
“Clarissa?” I swallowed hard.
I don’t remember much beyond that. My eyes were heavy and I was beyond exhausted.
“Brrrr-kup.” This strange noise woke me up. Blinking my eyes, I noticed two things, first it was just past sunrise and second the strangest creature I had ever seen was standing on my chest. With a multicolored beak, this odd creature repeated his call. I wasn’t sure if this thing was friendly or not, but he wasn’t very big either. As I leaned on my elbows, the thing moved off of my chest and waddled about the dirt floor of the cabin. Obviously looking for breakfast, he squawked a few more times in obvious complaint of my lack of hosting skills.
I stumbled out of the door and saw that the frost was melting, providing me with some water to cook with. I had to be prudent with my limited supply, but I was able to fill a pot with the melt water. Driftwood on the other hand was plentiful and I managed to gather a few armloads for the fireplace Though the wood was wet, using some of the moss I scraped off the trees, I had a nice blaze going within the hour. Once the fire was blazing, warming the small one room cabin, I got the water boiling and was able to cook some of my dehydrated food. I made sure to give some of it to my new friend who eagerly ate what was offered to him.
“Shall I call you Herbert?” I asked as he squawked, much happier now that he was being fed.
As I explored some of the island, it began to rain. In this part of the world, it rains almost every day and much to my surprise my new friend was content following me through the thick forest. The spruce trees were magnificent, but the undergrowth was difficult at times to get through.
I picked berries. There seemed to be an abundance.
“Mr. Grayscheck.” Dr. Knight hovered just in line of my sight. The darkness which filled my consciousness began to recede like the morning fog. He smiled, “You are a miracle.”
“Whaaa?” I shook my head.
“You are alive. You have come back to us.” His strange statement roused me a bit.
“Baahhh.” My tongue was betraying me. It seemed I could not form words.
“Please, take it easy, Mr. Grayscheck.” He put his arm on my shoulder preventing me from sitting up. “You have been in a coma for a while.”
Coma? Was that what caused the darkness in my mind?
“Your wife and daughter are gone.” His long thin face became grim.
“Gaagaa?” I said “gone,” but it did not even come close.
“You will need therapy to adjust from your coma.” He explained.
Wife and daughter were gone? Where had they gone?
A boat arrived in the late afternoon with kerosene and some other supplies. I had fixed the door for the most part when I saw it dock in the harbor.
“How are things going?” Mr. Garrett walked down the gangplank.
“Fine.” I inhaled.
“I was worried.” He coughed as he shook my hand. “I could not get the kerosene out here on time.”
“It’s okay.” I shook my head.
“Folks are talking about you.” He said with a nervous laugh that followed.
“I don’t care.” I Shook my head again.
“Calling you the crazy old hermit.” He shrugged.
“Let them call me what they want.”
“I meant to ask.” He paused, “Have you found the mirror?”
“Mirror? What mirror?” I nodded.
“The former occupant, now long dead, had a mirror.” Garrett’s head swiveled around.
“Nope, haven’t seen any mirror.” I shrugged, “Been pretty busy getting set up.”
“Don’t worry about it. It’s nothing.” He assured me. “A boat will come to the island every week about this time and check on you and what you need.”
“I appreciate that.” I poked him in the shoulder with my fist, “What’s the deal with the mirror.”
“Ah, nothing.” He laughed.
“I know when someone is pulling the wool over my eyes. What about the mirror?” I asked in a much firmer tone.
“Alright.” His expression became serious like the doctor at my bedside, “Some of the stories were about how the mirror was magic.”
“How magic?”
“It was just the delusions of an old man who lived here for the final years of his life.” Garrett turned to walk toward the dock, but I reached out and grasp him by his shoulder. “Don’t make something out of nothing.”
“Where is this mirror?” I asked before he could turn around again.
“I don’t know.” He shook his head, “Hell, I don’t even know if it’s still here. He could have dumped it in the bay for all I know.”
“I got a feeling he didn’t do that.”
“C’mon Chet, don’t start taking stock in the stories of a crazy man. Hell, you never took mythology seriously, did you?” His smile was covering something that made me uneasy as I watched him board the boat without once turning back to look at me.
“Chet, I need you.” I heard sitting in the glow of my lantern.
I stood up and walked to the back of the cabin where I thought I had heard the voice.
“Daddy, you hit that other car. Why did you do that?”
“Clarissa? Is that you?” I asked out loud as I walked toward her voice, but there was only darkness when I got there.
Darkness like the darkness that covered my brain.
“Mr. Grayscheck, you may have suffered some traumatic brain injury, but we can’t tell for sure.” Dr. Knight opened my chart during a meeting following physical therapy.
“How will we know?” I asked.
“We may never know for sure.” He bowed his head.
Someone shook me awake, but when my eyes fluttered open that strange bird had returned. Then I realized that I had fixed the door and I wondered how he got into the cabin. He squawked.
“How did you…?” I started to aske, but then realized he would not be able to give me an answer.
I followed him out the open door.
Had I left it open? I could have sworn I had closed and locked it to keep other probing creatures from inviting themselves in.
He walked down to a copse of trees near the beach. When I got there, I saw a tangle of vines concealing something luminous. Peeling back the vines, I saw my own reflection in the mirror. With wire in the back, I figured the mirror had once hung on the wall.
I would hang once again.
My new friend squawked as I walked the mirror back to the cabin.
The wire was worn and rusty, but I replaced the wire with some wire that had been delivered. In about an hour, the mirror was hanging over the mantle of the fireplace. Proud of my latest accomplishment, I took a step back from my work. I could clearly see my reflection in the mirror, but then I didn’t. My reflection became smoky and foggy until it was obscured altogether.
“Dora?” It felt as though my blood froze as her likeness was clearly in the mirror.
“Chet, why did this happen?” She asked
“I didn’t mean it to.” I fell to my knees guilty of my horrible deed in her eyes.
“I asked you if you were alright to drive that night. What did you tell me?”
“I said ‘I was.’”
“But you weren’t.”
“How was I to know?”
Tears rolled down my cheeks.
“You knew.” She said, her voice echoed in my head.
“Chet, are you sure you’re alright to drive?” She asked me as she buckled Clarissa into her seat in the back.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.” I nodded as I started the car. The controls on the dashboard were cloudy and I had to refocus my eyes. Still blurry, but I would soldier through this as I had before. “Did you have fun?”
“I guess. Myra was kinda chatty about things I had no interest in actually.” Dora smiled.
“Oh, like what?” I asked pulling out of Ray’s driveway.
“Like what they do in bed. Kinda private if you ask me.” She chuckled.
“Hmpt, sounds dreadful.” I shook my head.
“Well, I’ve been through worse.” She laughed.
I did not see the stop sign.
The next moment would become my last memory before the darkness.
“You promised me you’d be mine forever.” She howled as her face morphed into a wild beast from her reflection in the mirror.
I did promise her that. Many times, I promised and I was true to that promise during our marriage.
“But you went back on your word.” She sounded wounded.
“How? How did I go back on my word?” I asked, looking away from her beastly reflection with her ravenous fangs.
“You were supposed to come with me.”
“But you died…”
“Yes, when the other car t-boned us, my body was crushed along with your daughter’s. She misses her daddy. You chose to run from us.”
“I came to this deserted island not to be haunted by the memory of losing you and my daughter.” I put my head in my hands.
“But we followed you here, didn’t we? Would you like to say hello to your daughter?”
“No, no I would not.” I began to sob.
“Daddy, why won’t you look at me?” Her voice was imploring. So, I looked up at the mirror. I wished I hadn’t, because the right side of her face was crushed and distorted. I had not seen her because my own head struck the car door and the darkness followed. I closed my eyes.
“Why won’t you look at me, daddy, doncha love me?”
“I love you. I love you both.” I sobbed.
“Now is your chance.” Dora’s voice softens.
“I don’t know.” I swallowed hard.
“Follow me, I know the way.” Her face appeared in the mirror as I remembered it moments before the crash. Her half smile always hit a soft spot in my heart. From the mirror a hand reached out. “Take my hand, Chet.”
“Don’t ask me to do this.” I shook my head.
“Daddy.” I heard Clarissa call me.
“I’m coming. Daddy is coming, sweetie.” I put my hand in Dora’s. I felt a force pulling me back into the darkness. Like Alice through the looking glass, I was pulled through the mirror I had hung on the wall.
The last thing I heard as I went through the mirror was a final so-long squawk from Herbert.
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4 comments
Hello, I was sent your story to critique. I thought it was really well written, so the only suggestions I have are to add the smells of the Bay, and to use scene breaks (***) between memories and what's happening now.
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Surreal magic mirror story.Nicely portrayed.
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Thank you, Mary. Happy holidays to you and yours.
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Thank you and to yours. I see this week prompts are all Thanksgiving. I am actually working on dinner for my family today, Friday.
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