REFLECTION OF THE PAST

I staggered back, my eyes wide, suddenly breathless, my legs weak. A coldness came over me that seemed to come from the core of my being. I needed to sit down, compose myself and get the panic out of my system. I stumbled to the nearest easy chair and flopped into it.

I had wandered into the lounge room absentmindedly working on my Windsor knot. My mind was on the morning’s sales presentation. I drifted over to the large Baroque mirror over the fireplace. It had been in the family for generations. The gilded frame had inlays of ebony and tortoise shell and intricate carvings of fruit, angels, flowers and leaves The Baroque style is from the 17th century. The mirrors value as an antique is no doubt considerable though we had never had it valued.

I looked up to check my tie. The reflection of our modern lounge room behind me faded. Suddenly I was looking at a room with Victorian décor. Ornate padded chairs, elaborate heavy curtain hangings, A chandelier, thick blue Persian rug, pink wallpaper with white swirling design and black lacework border at floor and ceiling, a piano and stool and various cabinets and tables in the dark Victorian style. The room was cluttered with china and glassware accessories.

In place of my own reflection stood a middle-aged man wearing a black top hat. He had on a Gray coat with covered buttons, matching waistcoat, dark trousers, short turnover shirt collar, and floppy bow tie. His face was covered by a substantial moustache and pointed beard. He was smiling, looking greatly pleased with himself. A large gemstone sat on the open palm of his left hand.

The image stayed for perhaps three seconds then was gone. I was looking at myself and my living room again. To say I was spooked by the experience is putting it mildly. It took some effort to keep it at the back of my mind while I worked.

At some point during the day I realized the Victorian gentleman had been my great grandfather. It seems his complicity in a crime had been revealed to me. A priceless white topaz had gone missing from an exhibit at New York’s Plaza Hotel while he had been manager of the place. It was never recovered. Certain circumstances had made him a prime suspect, but nothing had been proven and he had always vehemently denied any part in the theft.

On the drive home I had a thought. Maybe the experience could be relegated to straight physics or the weird revelations of Quantum Mechanics. I let out a huge breath. I desperately wanted that to be true. That there might be a rational explanation for what I had seen made me feel a lot better.

I tried to recall my meagre knowledge of Physics. What was a reflection? Light is made up of photons. When these little packets of energy collide with a surface three things can happen. If the surface is transparent such as glass, the light passes straight through. On a matt black surface, photons are absorbed. In the case of a mirror, which is glass with a coating of reflective metal, usually silver, photons bounce off. That is reflection. I remembered light is not shackled by time. Much of the physical world decays over time including ourselves. Light does not suffer from such an ignominious fate.

I thought also of Quantum Mechanics. Many experiments have established entanglement and non-locality at the most fundamental level of matter. At the atomic level place or distance do not exist.

A photograph is light captured by a camera sensor. With no light, there is no image. I have always been fascinated by old photographs. Each of them is a moment in time captured forever. Perhaps the old mirror had in some strange way done the same thing. Had I experienced a strange combination of photon reflection and non-locality?

The theme you could say, of the momentary image of my great grandfather was the revelation of his involvement in a misdemeanour he had always denied. Light had shown him to be a liar and thief. My mind went to the Bible’s New Testament . The first chapter of the Gospel of John has this statement. ‘The light shines on in the darkness and the darkness has never extinguished it.’ The gospel of Mark records Jesus as saying ""For everything that is hidden will eventually be brought into the open, and every secret will be brought to light."

Jesus equated the revealing of all secrets as a work of light. Many are deceived into believing their secrets will never be known. But darkness never overpowers light. Light records all. Light reveals all. Perhaps my experience was a warning. A demonstration of how light so easily reveals darkness. Moral faults such as my grandfathers often travels through generations. I admit I had more than once seriously considered some shady business alliances as I built my business. 

Perhaps the Universe is geared to conspire against dishonest and detrimental activities. Perhaps darkness in this form is an intruder, an abnormality, an unwelcome villain doomed to be destroyed and cast out from the presence of the harmonious operation of all things. I wondered how many career criminals would give up their pursuits if they could see they were challenging the Universe itself. If they were given a view of the certain defeat and annihilation their chosen course will come too. 

All this information combined was enough to reduce my agitation to a level I could live with. One thing was certain, I would be telling nobody of my experience. I could not escape some apprehension being associated with the mirror. My fervent hope is this experience will be the first and last. I am definitely not going to put up with some sort of emulation of Snow Whites stepmother. I hoped the mirror appreciated any further revelations of the past would see it swiftly transferred to the attic and, treasured family heirloom or not, deposited with an antique auction house for rapid sale.

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