Reflexive Secret

The stuffy air of the late afternoon hung low in the galleries of the antiques stores’ seemingly endless aisles. Particulate matter of all kinds danced and swirled in the rays of the setting sun as a lone man navigated his way over the eternally creaking floorboards. Smells of musty canvas and aged oak furniture permeated every inch of the store.

“This place could really use an air conditioner,” the man thought to himself.

Walking with seemingly no purpose, his eyes crossed what appeared to be an old barbershop mirror in the corner of one of the displays. It stood atop a chest of drawers about three feet high and two wide. He could tell it was old by the way the layers of filth had accumulated in the recesses of the glass and frame. It was a beautifully crafted mirror. To his eye, it was made of elm, free of knots, and expertly crafted. The frame of it was roughly two inches wide and ran up both sides symmetrically, crowned by a beautiful Edwardian display of artistry. The top of the frame was inlaid with filigree the man had never seen before. Hewn from the wood as if it had grown from the earth already carved. The peaks and valleys flowed endlessly, almost hypnotically, into a centrifugal swirling pattern that he was taken aback by. Very obviously the previous owner hadn’t the time or patience to care about it, as all the intricate details had prehistoric levels of dust take residence within them. The mirror itself was cloudy and he couldn’t see his own reflection, but his excitement grew, and he had to know more about it.

As he approached the owner of the store to inquire about the mirror, he noticed that it was nearly time for the store to close. As he approached the counter, the owner was finishing a transaction with another customer. Once he felt the time was right,

 “Excuse me, the large mirror in the far corner display, could you tell me more about it?” he said with thinly veiled enthusiasm.

“Ah yes, that was recently put up for sale but unfortunately even though I own the store I don’t own everything in it. I rent out space to people to sell their own antiques. But I am close friends with the owner of that mirror and what I can tell you is, that mirror is unique. It was made from the timbers of one of the lifeboats that came from the Titanic.”

A sense of overwhelming excitement came over the man as he realized what he had come across. A voracious maritime history enthusiast, he visited antique stores often to see what other memorabilia he could find.

“Very good, how long has it been here?” he said.

“Only a few days, and I’m not even sure what the owners’ asking price is,” the owner said in a genuine state of confusion. “I can call him and ask him if you’d like, but he doesn’t have a cell phone and is out of town, so it will have to be tomorrow.”

The man thought briefly, he knew he wanted the mirror and would buy it no matter the cost, as having a piece of the Titanic story would be the crowning jewel in his collection. He decided his best course of action would be to offer a generous amount of money, hoping the antique store owner would accept on behalf of the owner of the mirror.

“I’d like to buy the mirror, but I am just passing through town and won’t be able to come back tomorrow. Would you take two thousand dollars for it?”

The antique store owners’ eyes grew large as the visible shock set in. All he could think about was what the percentage he would make on the sale.

“I hate to put you in this situation, but I would really like to buy that mirror,” the man said contritely.

The antique store owner thought about the situation. He considered the idea that he could get more for it, but then what if the man walked away after his counteroffer? He had an open offer for two thousand dollars, a dollar figure nothing in his store had ever sold for.

“I’m sure if he were here, my friend would accept that offer, so it’s a deal. Would you like it wrapped up?,” the owner said, still in a giddy state at the thought of his cut of the deal.

“That would be wonderful, thank you.”

With the transaction completed, the man loaded his new treasure into his car, grateful that he had been in the right place at the right time.

Many days passed and the man arrived home from his time away. The anticipation while he was on the road had been building inside him since he purchased the mirror. He knew exactly what he was going to do with the mirror, and where he was going to put it. During the evening when he got home, he spent several hours lovingly cleaning out the encrusted details of the mirror. Taking it from a filthy display of dust and debris to a beautiful reminder that this was indeed made by a master craftsman. The original polish was still present if not a little bit faded. He planned on cleaning the mirror glass itself only after it was installed at its final destination. But one thing had bothered him since he bought it. There was no providence for it being from the Titanic, and he had no way to prove it. He looked for a maker’s mark, a stamp, anything to identify where it was made or by whom. As he peered over every inch of the mirror, he looked at the reverse side when he made a discovery. Near the inside edge of the frame, he noticed the weathered paint had not been removed, left as if almost on purpose. There were no complete words, but he could make out a part of some remaining block letters.

“A-N-I-C!,” he said as his voice trembled with excitement.

To him there could be no doubt, this mirror was made from one of the lifeboats on the Titanic. As he reflected on this discovery, he began setting about moving the mirror to its final station, on a sideboard in his entry way.

The mirror was installed without incident, but the man decided that he was going to wait to enjoy the cleaning and grand reveal of the mirror’s reflection until the morning. Evening ablutions completed, the man looked in his bathroom mirror, everything was in its place, and he was excited to see what this hundred-year-old mirror would look like in the morning sun.

           The sun crested the windowsills in the house early in the morning by which time the man had already arisen. He set about cleaning the mirror as best he knew how. The anticipation gave him haste, but his concentration gave him pause. He knew this was a delicate mirror and needed to be cared for. Once clean, the man stepped back in awe. The deep blue of early century glass shone through; he had never seen anything like it. He began to examine himself in the mirror more closely. Everything was in its place, with one small exception. The man noticed a small smudge in the upper portion of the mirror. He went to clean it but was unable to. He realized the smudge was not on the mirror, but on his neck. In the mirror he could see a two-inch growth protruding from the lower portion of his neck. Panic stricken, he reached up to feel for the lump, only to find his skin smooth and healthy. He ran back into his bathroom to look in his vanity mirror, still nothing, no lump. Perplexment led to genuine confusion as he pondered on what steps to take next. He knew he had to seek medical attention.

           Several weeks had passed since the man's incident with his new mirror, he sat waiting for the test results in his doctor's office. Still feeling confused and bewildered at what he had experienced. The doctor came in, read the results of the tests the man had undergone, and with a look of equal part perplexment and amazement he said,

“I’m really not sure how you could have known this, but it says here that the tests detected some rapid cellular growth around your thyroid gland, nothing alarming but also nothing you could have detected by yourself. If you hadn’t come into to have this tested there is no question it would have gotten larger. What you’ve done, is detect a cancer in yourself that hasn't formed yet. And because of this, treatment will be extremely simple”

           The two men just stared at each other with otherworldly wonder at the revelations just laid forward. The man realized what had happened but dared not speak on it for fear of being perceived as deranged. The doctor, equally amazed, asked the man if he would like a copy of his report, which the man accepted.

           As he left the office, the man reflected on the gravity of his situation, what he had been through. Was it just an accident? Did the mirror really possess the ability to see the unseen? He knew that if he was to tell anyone what happened, the mirror would be taken from him, whether by purchase or force.

“To keep it and use it only on those that are close to me is the only viable option.” He thought to himself.

And so, he went home, content in the knowledge that he had something in his life that would protect anyone the man chooses to protect. This knowledge brought him comfort he had never known prior.