The Mirror

   That time of morning was always the hardest. Those few minutes between getting up and having that first cup of coffee in his hands. Those few minutes when he didn’t have to hear the incessant screeching of her voice. The only time of the day there’d be peace and quiet under his own roof.

    “What a wonderful flavor coffee has in the morning,” Jim thought savoring the coffee, “peace and quiet,… if only,..”

    “Okay, are we going to Casey’s party or not?” The voice of his wife echoed, breaking the quiet serenity of yet another morning, “you didn’t answer me last night.” She continued as he cringed and tried to draw up inside his coffee cup, “James! I simply have to know. We haven’t been out in weeks and,..” Her voice trailed off as Jim quietly got up and headed for the bedroom to get dressed. A short time later, back at the kitchen table.

    “Why is it she only calls me James when she’s mad?” Jim thought picking up his coffee cup. Trying to take a drink and placate his wife at the same time ended with disastrous results. In an act of utter futility Jim tried to stop the flow of coffee down his tie.

    “DAMN!” he cussed, spying the clock on the wall, “eight thirty, I’ll never get a taxi for work this late in the morning.” He finished, pulling the tie from around his neck and heading to the bedroom for another.

    “JAMES!” what about the party?” The voice of his wife called from the kitchen.

    “I’ll call you.” Jim managed to answer trying to tie his tie and exit the door at the same time.

    “But,…” She began again.

    “I’ll call you. “ Was his final answer as he headed down the walk out to the street.

    Ninety minutes passed before Jim reached the office. Late already, the elevator seemed to conspire along with the rest of the world in defeating his day.

    As the doors opened he started for the sanctuary of his own office. Passing the secretaries desk, her voice stopped him in mid stride.

    “Mr. Miller is waiting for you.” She said in a nasal voice not looking up from her typewriter.

    “He’s in your office.” She finished her tone seemingly more sarcastic than usual.

    “Now what?” Jim said under his breath continuing for the door. Inside, his neat little desk was a disaster to the sight. Numerous papers laid strewn here and there in a hodge podge of disorder as his boss sat squarely on the desk top dropping more and more papers as the seconds ticked by.

    The acrid smell of a cheap cigar permeated the room as it laid smothering on the edge of his desk. Dark gray ashes fallen to the floor to mix with the mess of papers strewn a cross the desk and scattered on the floor beneath.

    “It’s nine forty five James. You’re late again!” was the first greeting from his boss.

    “I know, I…” Jim tried to answer.

    “We need the Donovan account. They want to make some changes.”

    “But I’ve been working on that all week.”

    “I know,” his boss answered with a look of disgust, “let’s get busy.” He finished, picking up his cigar and dropping the ashes on the desk top this time.

    He heard his bosses words go on for some minutes before they began to drone in his head. As his words began to run together Jim’s mind began to wander.

    “Ah, to be a boy again,” he thought picturing a quiet stream and a fishing pole in his hand, oh, to fish my life away and only,..” his day dream was broken by an incessant call on the intercom. Looking up he saw his boss had left and the intercom bleated again at him.

   “Yes,” he said hesitantly flipping the switch on the intercom,

    “Mr. Brandon. your wife on two.” The nasal voice of the secretary said sharply. Picking up the phone his wife’s voice immediately began to berate him for his earlier transgression. At the same time his boss entered the office and dropped the previously purloined papers on his desk in disgust and walked back out the door, again the intercom interceded to create yet further havoc. Without realizing it Jim moved the telephone receiver from his ear and quietly hung it up. Though this office was air conditioned, sweat now beaded on his brow and coursed down to now soak his collar and make him more uncomfortable. Shakily he got up from his desk and walked quietly past the secretary and headed for the elevator doors.

    “Mr. Brandon?.. Mr. Brandon?” the secretary called as Jim stepped aboard the elevator seemingly not hearing her call.

    “Mr… son of a,..” he didn’t hear her last words as the elevator door closed and shut out the pressure that had sent him scurrying from the office.

    Down at the lobby and out the huge building doors he moved. Still dazed by the past minutes he walked with his hands in his pockets with no particular place to go. His feet taking him farther and farther from the turmoil back at the office.

    Minutes became an hour. One hour became two before Jim came out of his stupor and peered around to see where he was. Not recalling that part of town startled him for a moment as he looked at the many shops lining the little side street. Resigning himself to the moment. Jim decided that he’d nothing but time and began looking into the shop windows up and down the street.

    Outside of one old curio shop he stopped and stared at a vision of himself in an old mirror standing tall in the window.

    “Forty five years haven’t been to bad to me.” Jim thought looking at the reflection. Here and there little things showed the easy life he’d created.

     A little tummy over his belt, a second chin to accent a small yet firm looking jaw. His suit though comfortable still carried the look of a business man. A receding hairline cut the image to remind him that the years had passed and would continue without much change.

    A mediocre existence for a mediocre man. Drifting with his thoughts he was startled when the image in the mirror changed and became a quiet stream flowing from majestic mountains off in the distance. A grassy plain ran flowing to the water’s edge, spotted here and there by multicolored flowers to break up the vast expanse of green.

    As he watched, a small boy skipped down the meadow to the water’s edge. A long cane fishing pole across his shoulder. Turning, the face of the boy caught Jim’s eye. With mouth agape now and bewilderment in his eyes he realized that the boy was none other than himself many years before.

    Jim continued watching as the boy baited his line and dropped it into the water. With a start he turned from the mirror when the image disappeared and in it’s place an old woman’s visage appeared and she repeated herself.

    “It’s only ten dollars mister. A bargain really.” She said turning first towards the mirror then back to him.

    “I’m told it’s a most unusual mirror. If you take any store in that kind of stuff.” She finished, waiting for his answer. Turning towards her, the corner of his eye caught sight of the mirror and the returned image in all it’s beauty. This time the boy was beckoning to Jim to join him at the water’s edge.

    “I,… I’ll take it.” He stammered, turning from the mirror to follow her through the door.

    A short time later. Jim arrived at home and struggled to get the oversized mirror out of the taxi. As he fumbled, his wife came out the front door and started down the walk, a look of disgust on her face.

    “What is that thing?” She spat as she neared, and where have you been all day? I must of called a dozen times. Now where have you been?” without answer Jim finally managed to extricate the mirror from the taxi and started up the walk towards his wife.

    “Oh, no. you’re not bringing that monstrosity into my house. And just what,..?” the rest of her words went unheard as Jim entered the front door and headed directly for the den to try and escape his wife’s wrath.

    “,… and just what do you think,..” caught his ear as she followed him into the room, “,… you’re doing spending our hard earned money on that junk. I swear, sometimes you don’t have a lick of sense.” She continued, storming from the room and slamming the door.

    Even as she left Jim continued fumbling with the mirror. First setting it up in the center of the room. Then taking a dust cloth from the desk and dusting it so it’s shimmering surface almost gleamed with his tender care.

    Seated at his desk Jim stared into the mirror and wished for the scene of the stream and mountains, and the reminder of his youth to return.

    Long minutes passed as he stared and awaited the majestic picture that had so captivated him at the little shop. Tiring, Jim bowed his head and began rubbing his eyes.

    “Just a day dream,” he told himself, “wishful thinking.” He finished, looking up to the mirror expecting to see only his own reflection. The shock of the beautiful picture of earlier caused him to stare with mouth agape.

    There again as the mountains shrouded by a clear blue sky. The babbling stream crossing a rocky bed with it’s crystal clear waters beaming in the bright sunlight. And there again sat the cane pole he’d seen earlier, the boy was no where in sight. As he watched the door opened and in stepped his wife to continue the incessant nagging that she’d started earlier.

    “I don’t know,..” she began, her words falling on deaf ears as Jim sat captivated by the visage in the mirror. As she rambled, Jim became less and less responsive to her words as the mirror seemed to grip him more and more by the second.

    “,… and if you don’t have that monstrosity gone when I come back in, there’s gonna be hell to pay, I tell you,..” her voice trailed off as she left the room and headed down the hall. Mere seconds passed before she returned to continue her verbal abusing of him. Opening the door she found an empty chair where only seconds before Jim had sat staring into the mirror.

    “JAMES!” she yelled, becoming more angered by his absence.

    “JAMES! You come back in here this very minute! Do you hear me!” she yelled, heading out the door and down the hall.

   Echoes of her voice reverberated through the house as she searched for her errant husband. Her voice drowning out the serene sounds of a babbling stream and bird calls echoing from the mirror. Has she looked she would have seen her husband. A young boy again skipping along merrily. A cane pole across his shoulder headed for a quiet day’s fishing. A smile on his face denoted the serenity of the country around him and the contentment of being where he wanted to be all along,….