The Immutable Laws of Reflection

To be fair, the kidnapers were polite to me.

They hustled me into the back of a bobtail truck with courtesy and deference. They drove me to an undisclosed spot, dropped me off, and sped away, never once yelling at me, or threatening me, or manhandling me.

And there I stood, wherever it was. A small town that wouldn’t be out of place in rural America. A town square. People going about their business, being pleasant to me, a stranger. I had no idea where I was, or why I was taken, gently but forcibly, from the side of the road.

I always loathed Tuesdays, but this was ridiculous.

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Phoenix watched two people approach him with a rising sense of dread. Being kidnaped made him wary, but the couple walking up to him scared the hell out of him. He didn’t know why, but the feeling persisted, grew.

“Uh—”

“Shut up and listen, bug. You’re here for a reason. The best thing you can do is keep your teeth together and listen to Alejandra.”

Phoenix eyed the man who spoke. He was big, but not big in the usual way. He was big in a way that would scare Vikings. Muscles rippled from his arms — arms that resembled the trunks of oak trees. His legs and torso seemed to be cut from granite, and his jaw appeared to be as wide as one of those electric cars he hated.

It was the expression on his face though, that caused Phoenix to quail. It was, for want of a better word, implacable. Nothing will dissuade this man. This is a face that would kill a sweet grandmother.

“Well, uh, I was a little lost. On my way to Terlingua, Texas. A chili cook-off, you see, for the Fourth of July. Anyway, I lost all my bars and GPS capabilities, so—”

“Didn’t I just tell you to shut up?” The big man seemed to get bigger.

Phoenix stopped talking.

“Bibi, let me handle the interpersonal stuff, ok? Why don’t you go and find some big animal to kill and eat. I saw a black bear a few minutes ago, that way,” the woman pointed south, “and he looked fat.”

Bibiano “Bibi” Zamurrio suddenly lost interest in Phoenix. He trotted off to the south, happy to have something to kill. Phoenix felt sorry for the bear.

“I am Alejandra Gallegos. You are here for a specific reason, one which will be revealed to you in due time. For now, I offer you a bath, food, and a comfortable bed. I suggest you take advantage of all these amenities.”

Phoenix watched her walk off as two women escorted him to a house. He tried to resist them but found, incredibly, that the two old women were much stronger than him.

Phoenix stopped fighting them when it became obvious that he couldn’t get away. The women drew a bath and set food out for him. He took a quick, unsettled bath and ate nothing, preferring strong drink to wholesome food. It was in this blue mood that Alejandra found him.

“You’re gonna kill me, right?”

Alejandra looked at him and smiled. Phoenix was taken aback. Such a smile! It radiated all that was pure and good in this world, containing a power that wasn’t to be overcome or denied. He reeled slightly.

“In a manner of speaking. Not to worry, though. You’ll be alive when you leave here.”

Phoenix found this so lacking in reason that he didn’t say anything. With nothing better to do, he sat and sulked, swilling whiskey and smoking cigarettes to pass the time. This went on for some minutes before Phoenix spoke again.

“Why?”

Alejandra sighed and shook her head slowly. “It isn’t for the likes of you or me to know why. We follow orders, secure in the knowledge that what we have been ordered to do is the right thing for humanity.”

“You used a lot of words to explain nothing.”

Alejandra got up to leave. “Yes, I know. Now go to sleep.”

She kissed Phoenix on the forehead and he dropped to the floor, dead.

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Phoenix woke up to the sight of Bibiano polishing off the haunch of some large beast and Alejandra checking her cell phone. She sent a text and then turned her attention to Phoenix.

“Hey! How come you have cell service and I don’t?” Phoenix was in whine mode, not an unusual occurrence. It was the reason his wife had become distant and his friends faded away.

“Can I hit him just once, Ále? Please.” Bibiano glared at Phoenix.

“You are here for a reason, Phoenix Sanders. First, though, you should know that your wife is to be involved.” Alejandra stood up and dusted off her skirt, indicating that Phoenix should follow her outside.

“Where — where are my clothes?” Phoenix stayed under the blanket.

Bibiano sighed and ripped the blanket off of Phoenix, and Phoenix, to his credit, tried to cover up his private parts. Alejandra paid no attention to this; she was busy reading another text.

Phoenix ran off to the restroom, surprised to find his clothes there, all cleaned and pressed. Even his underwear had been ironed, which seemed odd to him. But it also gave him some hope.

No one irons underwear for a person they’re about to kill.

Bibiano had left by the time Phoenix exited the restroom, much to his relief. The man made Phoenix uncomfortable, but this is understandable. Bibiano made entire nations uncomfortable.

“Come with me,” Alejandra stuck her cell phone in a pocket and walked out.

Phoenix gazed at the dusty streets, the dirty children, the modest stores along the way. Everyone seemed content. The kids were playing, yet there was no screaming, no whining. Mothers bustled about, buying food for the day, chatting amicably with each other, laughing occasionally at some remark, and generally acting as if they hadn’t a care in the world. Phoenix didn’t see any men. None at all.

They stopped about a half mile out of town, near a brook. Bibiano was there, reclining against a tree and moving his head to music emanating from his earbuds. He was chewing on another large piece of meat.

Alejandra touched Bibiano’s shoulder and he stood up, immediately glaring at Phoenix. Phoenix averted his gaze. He felt better about his future, but only because of the pressed underwear. The feeling was dissipating under Bibiano’s gaze.

Bibiano approached Phoenix, pulled out a handgun, and shot him.

Twice. In the chest.

Phoenix stumbled backward from the force of the impacts and suddenly sat down, heavily. He clutched his chest and moaned in pain. It took a few seconds for Phoenix to come to two realizations: he wasn’t bleeding and he wasn’t dead.

“My work is done.” Bibiano strode off to the south.

Probably looking for another animal to kill.

And with that thought, Phoenix passed out.

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Phoenix woke up in bed. Nude. With Alejandra waiting patiently by his bedside.

“Wha —”

He was finding it difficult to finish the word. Or any word, for that matter. His mouth was dry, his throat sticky, his mind a whirl.

“Get out of bed. We have things to do,” Alejandra pulled the covers from the bed and helped Phoenix stand. This was difficult, for he was still in a haze, and what with trying to cover himself up and his rubbery legs failing to comply with his wishes, the simple act of getting to the restroom was proving to be a near-impossible task.

The task was eventually accomplished. Phoenix threw several handfuls of cold water on his face, leaned against the sink, and stared at himself. He saw nothing except himself, and he didn’t want to think about himself. He wanted to know why he was shot in the chest — twice — and lived. Not only that, he didn’t even bleed. Two angry red spots on his chest were the only reminders of what had happened.

They went back to the scene of the shooting, causing Phoenix a few misgivings. He wondered if Bibiano was going to shoot him again, or do something even worse to him. He wondered why he didn’t die. Most of all, he wondered if anything that happened in the last twenty-four hours was real. Nothing felt solid. He didn’t feel solid. A weightless, insubstantial feeling invaded him, giving him the sense that, if this were a dream, it was as near to dammit as reality.

“First things first, Phoenix. You’re now immortal. Second, you have a task to perform. Third, I don’t need a lot of idiotic blathering from you. Just accept all of this and we’ll get along just fine.”

Phoenix blinked at Alejandra. He cocked his head to one side and frowned slightly. Whatever he expected, it wasn’t this. Alejandra seemed to believe what she had said, and Phoenix was almost tempted to believe her, but impossible things like this simply didn’t happen, in his experience.

“Wait! What? I don’t think —”

“No, you don’t. That’s why I had Bibi shoot you. He wanted to empty the magazine, but I wouldn’t let him.”

“But —”

“No! You’re immortal. If you need further proof, I’ll shoot you myself, and I won’t stop at two rounds.” Alejandra’s eyes gleamed with anger.

Phoenix rubbed his chest thoughtfully. Although the pain was gone, the memory of it persisted.

“Ok. Fine. I accept your premise that I’m immortal,” Phoenix lied.

“Now, hold my arm and we will go.”

Phoenix held her arm, expecting to take a stroll. He looked around, enjoying the scenery, despite his predicament. It has to be a dream.

It was no dream, and they didn’t take a stroll.

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Three seconds later, Phoenix opened his eyes. He felt like he had been turned inside out and repeatedly struck with several sledgehammers.

“The first time is the hardest. It’ll be better when we return.”

Phoenix looked at Alejandra and shuddered. He didn’t want to go through the experience again.

“Look,” Alejandra pointed to a house.

Phoenix’s house.

“What the — why are we here?” Phoenix, truthfully, wanted to know how they had gotten there in three seconds, but questioning such things seemed to anger Alejandra and Bibiano.

“Your wife is inside. With Bill Robowski.”

“Bill? He’s one of my best friends. Why is —”

“You have no friends. And they’re having an affair.”

Phoenix shook his head.

“No. No way. My wife loves me.”

“She used to love you. Your task is to make her love you again so you can have a daughter.”

“No. No no no no no! This isn’t happening. Sasha would never cheat on me, not ever. She’s true blue and loyal. Besides, Bill is kinda chubby. She has standards, you know.”

“Let’s go upstairs.” Alejandra didn’t wait for Phoenix to agree with her. She whisked him up the stairs and into the bedroom. What Phoenix saw stunned him.

“Hey! Get off my wife! You son-of-a —”

“They can’t hear you or see you. But you had to know.”

Phoenix watched, and then stopped watching, feeling sick and lost. It was one thing to find out your spouse was cheating, but quite another to actually see it.

“Ok, time to go.” Alejandra took Phoenix by the hand. Three seconds later, they were back where they started.

Phoenix looked around. Everything was exactly as they had left it, yet it all seemed so dull and lifeless now.

“So, your task —”

“I’ll kill that bastard! I’ll cause him so much pain he’ll think it’s my new career! I can’t believe —”

“Yes, ok. She cheats on you. You cheat on her as well, so don’t be a hypocrite. Bigger issues are at stake.”

Phoenix turned and looked sharply at Alejandra.

“How do you know I cheat on her? No one knows that. Except for me and Talia.”

Alejandra sighed the sigh of the truly put out.

“You are a particularly dim person, aren’t you? Despite everything we’ve shown you, you still think it’s all about you. You you you. It isn’t. This,” Alejandra waved her hand around the landscape, “is all about your daughter.”

“But I don’t have a daughter.”

“You will. Hopefully, that is. If you can convince your wife to have a child with you.”

Phoenix shook his head mournfully.

“Not likely, judging from what we saw. Odds are looking long, wouldn’t you say,” the bitterness in Phoenix’s tone was palpable.

“Bibi is taking care of the Robowski man as we speak. It’ll be something suitably gruesome because that’s Bibiano’s way. He doesn’t like humans much, so he tends to go overboard when punishing them.”

“Uh, he’s not gonna kill him, is he? I hate the guy now, but I don’t think he should die.”

“You just said you wanted to kill him.”

“Yeah, but that’s just me blowing off steam.”

“See? This is why we don’t trust most humans. You say something without meaning it, and the things you should say are left unsaid. How you survived as a species is beyond me.”

Phoenix had to agree with Alejandra’s assessment of his kind. Fate, it seemed, had left mankind with many unsuitable qualities.

“Anyway,” Alejandra continued, “the issue is your wife. You must have a daughter. She’ll be the one to have a daughter of her own, and that young lady will direct mankind. Temporarily.”

“Uh, sure. None of this makes sense. How can you possibly know all this? Is God telling you what to do?”

“No.”

“Then, who?”

Alejandra poked an anthill with a stick. Soon, hundreds of ants rushed from their underground abode and swarmed the immediate area.

“We are all ants. Someone else is the stick.”

“What?”

Alejandra huffed and walked away. Phoenix was angering her, and it wouldn’t do to get angry. She might kill him, an immortal, and that would be a black mark on her record.

“Ants,” Phoenix muttered to himself. “Who the hell cares about ants?”

                                               ______________

Bill Robowski — parts of him, anyway — was found, spread across seven counties. The authorities had no leads, so the murder of the man went unsolved. Phoenix regretted that Bill had to die, but, as usual, he was powerless against Alejandra and Bibiano.

In the fullness of time, Phoenix and Sasha had a daughter, Penelope. She was a precocious child, but Phoenix loved her dearly. He also loved his wife dearly, and this further puzzled him. They had grown apart, but after the kidnaping incident and the subsequent death of Bill, they had discovered a love that withstood the test of time. Phoenix suspected that Alejandra had something to do with it.

Penelope grew into a wonderful woman, and she married a wonderful man. They lived together on the outskirts of Lodi, California, growing their own fruits and vegetables, selling what they didn’t eat, and living simply. Phoenix thought their lifestyle was terrific, despite going against everything he had believed in before he was abducted and shot.

They had a daughter, just as Alejandra predicted. Desdemona. Des grew up to be a bit of a rebel, but the kind of rebel that warmed the hearts of her family. She married Helen Zuider and they lived in El Centro, California.

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Phoenix was surprised and not all that happy to see Alejandra again. He was happy that Bibiano wasn’t there; the man still scared the hell out of him.

“So, you have a granddaughter. You are now released from your obligation to us.”

Phoenix nodded, not understanding at all.

“You are no longer immortal. You will never see us again.”

“Uh, do you know what immortal means? I think —”

“As usual, you don’t think. We kept you alive until you did what had to be done. Now we have our new rulers.”

Phoenix blinked. It seemed like the thing to do.

“Desdemona and Helen.”

“Um. Ok.”

“Their actions and words are interpreted by us, and then we know how to direct humanity.”

“Yeah. Of course. Makes perfect sense to me.”

Alejandra didn’t understand Phoenix’s sarcasm.

“Good. Good-bye, Phoenix Sanders.”

Phoenix jumped up and stopped Alejandra.

“Wait! Listen, this doesn’t make sense. Some random couple decide what happens to the world?”

“You just said it made sense.”

“I was being sarcastic.”

“You mean you lied.”

“Yeah. Sure. I lied.”

“I’ll tell you once more. We are the ants. Someone else is the stick. It doesn’t have to make sense.”

Alejandra dissipated into thin air. Phoenix wasn’t surprised by this because nothing was all that surprising any longer.

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Phoenix, seventy-six years old, would die today, and he knew it. The doctors could do no more for him. He was weak, in pain, and ready to move on, wherever that was to be.

Reflection had taught him a lot about life. The main thing it taught him was that life wasn’t supposed to make sense. Life was — life. This was the one, irrevocable law that made sense. A tautology that explained everything with a clarity that would have been unthinkable in his earlier years.

He had been happy after the kidnaping. Incredibly happy and at peace. He wanted more of it, but accepted that it wasn’t to be. This also made him happy. He vowed to be happy in his new life.

As long as I don’t meet Bibiano again.

And with that last thought echoing in his mind, he died.