The Turnstile at the End of the Hall

I awoke in a hall of mirrors with the strange sensation that I'd been asleep for a long time. Moreover, I had no idea where I was, or how I'd gotten there. My head felt like a snow globe filled with dust. Conversely, the mirrors that surrounded me were so clear, that they could have been carved from slabs of crystal. Even the floors were made of brilliant glass that reflected off a glimmering mirrored ceiling. 

I got the sense that this was the first of many chambers. It was shaped like the inside of an igloo, leading to an archway, that would take me to the next station. 

I went through the passage without thinking, never stopping to look at my reflection in the initial chamber. 

The second room was far larger than the first; the collage of mirrors stretched for the length of at least four football fields. 

I was surprised to find that I was a young boy. A freckled face, with curly orange hair, and a mouth full of crooked teeth gazed at me from every direction. I had the sudden urge to cry. I wanted to call out for my Mom and Dad, but I knew I was alone in this house of mirrors. 

Panic quickened my small feet, as I hurried across the shiny path. If I was older, the walk wouldn't be so hard, but my tiny feet made every foot a yard. 

When I started to cry, the glass became slick and I tripped hilariously. I thanked my lucky stars that no other kids were around to witness my calamity. I remembered how we all laughed at Onion Breath Tim when he slipped off the jungle gym. Tim bawled like a baby and his Mom had to come pick him up early. Somehow it didn't seem that funny to me anymore.  

I realized if I focused, I could see the jungle gym in the mirrors like I was projecting the image from my mind. It was both bizarre and perfectly reasonable to me. 

I beamed at the sight of the rusty red slide that I married Katie Bishop under. We didn't kiss because I thought girls were gross. I only agreed to marry her under that slide because she asked me to and it was recess. I was surprised that she didn't think boys were gross. 

When I finally reached the end of the long field of mirrors, I was greeted by an archway that looked like the mouth of a giant cave. 

I wanted to rush forward and discover what wonders resided in the next chamber, but I stopped for a moment. One of my feet was in the mouth of the cave, while the other lingered in the field of mirrors. I knew I had to go forward if I ever wanted to see my parents, Katie Bishop, or even Onion Breath Tim again, but I also knew I would never be able to return to the field. I knew that in the same way that I knew how to breathe or make my heart beat.

I stayed in that purgatory for a long time, but eventually, I moved forward. The next chamber was different in several ways. The ceiling was way higher and domed at the top. Instead of one path, there were several skinny ones, each cordoned off by tightly packed walls of reflective glass. Lastly, the mirrors themselves were less shimmery, yet the images were more defined. This irked me, why make it so I can see better but the image is uglier? 

The stubbly face of a man in his late teens followed me through the maze of mirrors. I wondered what happened to that cute kid from the last chamber. How had the adorable freckles given way to a mess of multi-colored blemishes? I badly wanted to turn around and return to the first chamber, but I could see it was walled off.  

I had to keep going if I ever wanted to make it out of here. I wasn't sure which path to pick; I walked by a few to see if any called to me. No such luck. Finally, I decided to close my eyes and randomly pick a direction.

The path I landed on was tucked between two tightly packed glass walls. I squeezed through them, nearly bonking my head on the deceptively low ceiling as I went. 

To my relief, this path was straightforward and well-lit. I broke into a light jog, desperate to escape and find out what was happening. 

My memory was still a mess, but I knew that I was a senior in college. I hoped I wasn't missing an exam or a party. To be honest, I was more concerned with the latter. 

That's when I remember Annie. I hoped she wasn't worried about me, but more than that, I hoped she wasn't with some other guy. Annie was my first real girlfriend, although I was not her first boyfriend, not by any stretch of the imagination. I believed I loved her, but how could I know? My Dad used to say he fell in love with my Mom at first sight, but they got divorced last year; so seriously, what did I know? 

The path started to narrow, to the point where my shoulders were rubbing against the mirrors on either side. It became so uncomfortable that I changed my walk to a slide, where my shoulders were vertically aligned. 

I suddenly remembered that I'd be graduating soon, and abandoned my sliding method. Squished shoulders or not, I had to find my way out of this strange place. 

Faster than I could have imagined, I arrived at a solid glass wall, with a cubby-sized hole chiseled at its base. As I wriggled through the hole, I shivered as the cold glass pressed against my skin. 

I crawled out of the space and into the next entranceway. This time, it was a rectangular doorway, that resembled a parking garage. At least twenty other tiny crevices ran adjacent to the one I'd come through, all leading to the singular nexus. 

Without looking back, I went through the doorway. The next chamber was vast and hilly. I silently applauded the creators of this establishment because their work seemed to defy physics. 

A rolling floor of mirrors stretched further than my eyes could see. I had no idea where the boundaries of this chamber were, and the ceiling was so high that I couldn't tell if it was made of glass or the real sky. 

Unlike the first three chambers, the glass here was of inconsistent quality. At times, the panels were crystal clear, while other sections were dusty or cracked. I feared if I stepped on a broken mirror I'd be impaled by a shard of glass. Luckily, only a few of the spots were shattered, so avoiding them was simple. 

I started to climb a steep hill, that reminded me of an ice luge. I could only see my reflection on the floor, and it wasn't pretty. I'd aged at least 20 years since the last chamber. My red hair was now reduced to wispy strands, that refused to be commanded by a brush. I still had no idea what kind of place I was in; if anything, I was more confused than I'd been in the first chamber. Yet, I was no longer frustrated by the lack of answers. Instead, I decided to marvel at the awesomeness of what unfolded before me. 

As I ascended the seemingly endless hill, I remembered I had to call my Mom. I'd promised myself after Dad died, that I'd appreciate her while she was here. In some ways, I think I'd blamed her for the divorce, but being older, I realized that was pointless. 

Of course, having a divorce of my own colored my opinion on the matter. Even though Ellen and I had no kids, the process was still agonizing. I'd take a glass shard in my foot over that ordeal any day of the week. It must have been doubly tough for my parents, dealing with my whiney self. 

My legs started to groan as I hiked up the forever hill. The joints in my knees started to feel like strands of jelly, that could snap at any moment. To make matters worse, much more of the glass was now cracked or uneven. At one point, the entire floor was comprised of jagged glass, meaning I couldn't avoid it. I attempted to gingerly pass through the razor-toothed floor and was rewarded with stinging pains on the soles of my feet. 

When the hill finally plateaued, I was so elated that I yelped for joy. There was no new entrance, but the glass leveled out until it resembled the second chamber.

My knees ached horribly, and from the reflection, I could see my back was arched like a candy cane.

I crept forward, sensing that this was the final stretch of the hall of mirrors. I was excited to learn who was behind this wonderfully bizarre contraption. 

The temperature had dropped significantly, and I could feel the cold in my bones. I knew that was a harbinger of the end. Up ahead, I could see a lone turnstile, next to an empty attendants booth. 

I slowed as I approached it, thinking of Onion Breath Tim, who was now Secretary of Education Tim. 

I wondered what happened to Katie Bishop. The last I'd heard she'd found someone to marry her for real and it wasn't a man. I guess she thought boys were gross after all. 

I was close to the turnstile now, and although the mirrors on the floor were dusty and cracked, the metal turnstile was iridescent. When I looked into it, my reflection was split into a kaleidoscope of colors and images. Pieces of freckles, interspersed with streaks of violet, ruby, and emerald, with a balding head, hunched shoulders, and wide eyes, were all weaved together by this seemingly magical instrument.  

A few final memories returned to me. Ellen and I had remained lifelong friends. Neither of us remarried or had kids, and that was ok. Mom and I talked nearly every day for ten years, until... I'm not sure. 

I felt the cool steel of the turnstile and realized that it was time to leave. No more memories would come to me here. 

I smiled and pushed through. I looked back one last time and saw that the glass floor was shimmering like the sea at sunrise. I swear it was winking at me as I left.