Fuzzy Borders

Sometimes the portal manifested itself in mist, other times in a mirror…

Charlie was perpetually on the edge. He regularly woke up before the sun and went to bed long after the moon. He worked on minimal amounts of sleep and often was confused between dreams and reality. He wished he had a totem so that he could tell whether he was asleep or not. The sweet feeling of relief one has when they wake up from a bad dream where you nearly die, anger your best friend, or commit some deadly sin was absent from Charlie’s mind when he “woke up” from his dreams.

“Holy crap man, that was another wild one…” Charlie splashes cold water on is face, staring into his reflection in the grimy mirror in his one-bedroom apartment on the edge of town. Charlie lived out on the fringes of the city. A small suburban city with a well-to-do core population which was supported by service industry workers living in Charlie’s neck of the woods. His apartment’s one blessing was the walking path that wound its way into the forest which Charlie would sometimes wander down when he had a spare moment away from work. As Charlie was staring into the mirror, thinking about the possibility of walking into the woods on this crisp, sunny, fall day, he suddenly felt like his eyes could not focus on the mirror anymore. Like those moments when you stare at a cross-hatch pattern that is brightly colored and your eyes can’t make sense of the object, so you just stare at it, trying in vain to bring it into focus. The mirror had lost its sharp edges and seemed to appear fluid… he paused…trying to understand what he was seeing…and hesitantly reached out for the glass… the mirror’s surface bent outward toward his index finger, seemingly attracted to the warmth of his body… when his finger met the glass, the whole surface of the mirror rippled like he had just stuck his hand into the surface of the pond…but as soon as the ripple reached the edge of the mirror…everything snaped back into focus…

His alarm blared and he rolled out of bed.

It seemed the harder he worked, the more exhausted he got, and the more exhausted he got the more life-like his dreams were. His breakfast reverie was broken by his fifth alarm going off. The one telling him he had better get his life in gear and moving to his first job. He knew if he was late again, he’d probably get fired. Randall, his boss, had it out for him and would love to kick Charlie’s butt to the curb the next time he dropped a fragile box at his job. They both knew the company’s insurance would cover the damages, but Randall also knew he could fire Charlie for “poor productivity” if he kept dropping boxes.

Charlie was just hoping today would not be that day where he got fired. He finally felt like he had a good streak of luck and was going to get everything going in the right direction. You see, his parents split up when he was 16. His mom got custody of him, despite his dad being the more stable of the two, and she really left him to fend for himself. He struggled his way through high school, but knew college was off the table. At least until he could save up some money for tech school to become an electrician. So, he kept working at the local restaurant as a dish washer, and picked up this job in receiving after he graduated. His income worked out that he could afford this apartment, and the basics, but not a whole lot else. Which is why he loved the walking trail into the woods by his apartment so much. It was a free source of entertainment, and he loved the way the mist rolled into the woods in the early morning and late evening. The sounds of the forest and dampness of the mist, combined with the closeness of the fog, made him feel like he was just about in another world.

“Oh lordy…” Charlie mumbles as he comes back to reality again. He had almost let a box slip out of his hands and caught the intense gaze of Randall as he tried to disguise the fact that he just about ended his receiving career with one exhausted, misplaced step. He hurried to put the box in the right bay and Randall let the crew take their 15-minute break since they had finished unloading the truck. Charlie headed to the employee restroom to take care of his requisite business and eventually found himself staring into the bathroom mirror again. His mind wandered back to his mirror from this morning…he still wasn’t sure if he was dreaming when that happened or not…but…here it is again…he suddenly can’t focus on the mirror and found himself reaching for it just like this morning…the glass quickly bends outward to meet his finger…when the digit and glass meet this time, however, the glass accepted his whole hand, and did not immediately snap back into place when the ripple met the edge…his hand was greeted by a sensation of warmth on the other side…it felt like his hand had been enveloped by a warm fleece glove fresh out of the dryer…his eyes started to close and his world became blurry…

His alarm went off and he walked out of the bathroom.

He found himself in the kitchen of the restaurant for his dishwashing shift. His buddy, Andy, smacked him on the back and said, “What’s up bro? Feel like I’ve barely seen you since our shift started. How’d unloading the trucks go this morning?”

Charlie stared at the overly energetic Andy blankly for a moment trying to process what was going on. He glanced at his watch briefly, 6:39pm, before replying, “It was alright man. Got it done and…made it here…the usual I guess…”

“Alright bro! Well…let me know if you want to go play soccer this weekend.”

“Sure dude…yeah…will do…” Charlie meekly replied while turning his attention to the massive pile of dishes in front of him. I could have sworn I told him yesterday that I couldn’t make it. We have an extra shift this weekend to unload a “surprise” truck at the store. Charlie thought Randall surely knew about the truck well in advance, he’s just the boss that loves canceling everyone’s weekend plans so he tells us about these trucks last minute, and then threatens to fire all of us if we don’t show up… Regardless, his shift went by without a hitch, mindlessly washing dish after dish, his arms going through the motions while the rest of his consciousness was only half present, and he was off at the usual 12am. He decided he would take a walk into the woods tonight…he knew he needed the sleep, but he also felt like he needed to clear his head after the weird day he had. The woods always gave him some clarity.

Tonight, was one of those foggy nights he loved too. He got off the bus and walked past the entrance to his apartment and began wandering into the fog. What began as small whisps around him soon became a dense bank which isolated him, but this isolation gave him a distinct sense of peace. Randall wasn’t yelling at him, alarms weren’t reminding him of where he needed to be, and he wasn’t having any crazy dreams. He took a deep breath in, savoring this peace before he started to make his way back. Somehow it was already 1:30 and he really needed to go to bed or else he’d be unloading the next truck with no sleep…he turned around and came face to face with someone…he stared in disbelief…he was looking at…himself…

Standing in the middle of what looked to be an oval-shaped, body length mirror floating in the middle of the fog was someone who looked a lot like himself… 5’9, blue eyes, white skin, a dopey sense of style…wearing loose fitting, clothes…Their eyes met and they began to reach out for one another in curiosity…the surface of the mirror, became unfocused, as it had before, and the glass bent out as the two men reached for each other’s hands…Charlie felt that same feeling he had earlier in the day…warm envelopment…taking away the chill from the wet, night air…

His alarm buzzed and gently awoke him…

Charlie stumbled out of bed, feeling more tired than ever…he skipped the mirror this morning…rushing to work where the ever-irritable Randall awaited him…He made it to work just on time and Randall opened up the door for him.

“Holy crap bro, you look wiped! What happened?”

Charlie froze. Randall never asks how he is and knows he looks like trash everyday because he never sleeps and revels in the fact that he can be in charge of someone like Charlie and make their days as painful as possible.

“Seriously man, everything okay? I thought you’d be looking fresh after your day off yesterday.”

“What day off…?” Charlie replied.

“…you asked for yesterday off for your mom’s birthday…? How’d the party go? Guess you went a little too hard on the hurricanes, huh?”

Charlie had totally forgotten yesterday was his mom’s birthday. Not that he felt bad about it, he hadn’t celebrated a birthday in years, and even then, those were all arrangements made by his dad, not his mom. So, he just shrugged any inkling of guilt right off.

“Hey man…you know…you have the sick time, why don’t you take today off too, the truck is pretty light today so we can play a man down no problem…get a nap, sleep it off, get some real food in you and we can hit this again tomorrow. Sound good?”

“Uhh…yeah…that sounds good…Thanks, Randall.”

“No problem man! Shoot me a text when you get home so I know you made it.”

“yeah…will do…I’ll see you tomorrow.” Charlie walked back out of the store and waited for the bus.

When he walked back into the apartment, his exhaustion took over and he slumped onto the bed and didn’t wake up until 6pm that evening. When he checked his watch and saw the time after he woke up he was confused…he should have had eight different alarms going off by that point in the day, and he was wondering why his dishwashing boss hadn’t called him yet for missing the start of his shift…

He dialed up Ricardo, his boss at the dishwashing job, who just yelled at him and told him to get lost, acting like he didn’t even know who Charlie was. “Stop prank calling me, jackwagon!” Ricardo had yelled with his New Jersey accent.

“Okay…something is up for sure…” Charlie thought to himself. He wandered to the bathroom to take care of his requisite business and found himself looking into the mirror again. Sharp. Clean. Cool. Clear. That is what the surface of the glass looked like. No bending, no ripples, no eerily familiar faces looking back at him. He stared. And stared. And stared. Trying to lose focus to get the glass to bend. But he felt more energetic right now after his twelve hours of sleep than he had in a long time and the world didn’t seem to be in a constant state of fuzziness.

His phone buzzed, he picked up and heard Andy’s voice on the other end of the line, “Hey bro, when are you getting on? I thought we were gonna kill some baddies online tonight?” Charlie just then took stock of the room he was in and saw, by the fireplace on a nice wooden entertainment center he had never seen before, that there was a flatscreen TV with a white, glossy, gaming system sitting next to it. Suddenly, Charlie felt centered.