~K
~~~
She stared out her Park Avenue window and smiled. A breeze drifted in as well as the sounds from the street below. The sound and the pulse of the city...her city, her home echoed in her ears and her pulse beat right along with it.
The phone rang, she knew before she even picked it up that it was George the lobby concierge asking if it was all right if he allow the delivery up to her apartment. Of course it was, she had been eagerly awaiting this delivery for days now.
“Where do you want it?”
“Is that the mirror?” she asked excitedly knowing full well it was
“Yes Ms. Farrell…it’s heavy too.” He grunted
“In the bedroom, please. And thank you.” She added
“No problem Ms. Farrell. You’s da boss!” he smiled wheeling the dolly towards her bedroom
She followed him into the bedroom “Yes…just there.” She gestured. She’d been captivated by the mirror from the moment she’d seen it in the antique shop. There was something about it that spoke to her. She had to have it.
He gently slid it from the dolly into place, cut the twin and removed the canvas tarp. “Wow…she’s a beauty Ms. F!”
“I couldn’t agree more Ralph.” She said wistfully running her fingers over the cool dark carved mahogany. “How much do I owe you?” she said realizing he was standing there.
“Aww shucks Ms. F…you don’t owe me! You know I always loves deliverin stuff to yous.” He said blushing, his thick Brooklyn accent even more pronounced.
“No, no. You work hard” she held him out some money. “Please…I insist.”
He nodded and took her generous gift.
“I can trust you Ralph. You can’t say that about everyone now a day. You’re a good man.”
He nodded again and continued blushing “Thank you Ms. F.”
“No…thank you…and please call me Heather.” She said glancing in the mirror one last time as they exited the room.
***
She lay in the bathtub with her headphones on, eyes closed listening to the dulcet melodies of Duran Duran her all time favourite musical group. The lead singer; Simon LeBon; was posing the questions “Who do you need? Who do you love, when you Come Undone?” These questions rang in her ears. She hummed along with the song, bobbing her head in time with the music, relaxing in the warmth of the water when suddenly she felt as if she were being watched. She opened her eyes quickly removing her headphones. “Hello?” she called out to no reply.
She stood out of the tub, grabbing her housecoat and wrapped it around herself.
“Hello?” she said again with a little bit of trepidation in her voice
She picked up the phone off the bedside table and turning on the lamp to dimly light the room. She took a few steps to peer down the hall toward the front door when she kicked something soft. Heather jumped back startled, phone at the ready. Glancing down she saw a red ball poking out from under her bed where it had rolled.
Confused, she picked it up and looked at it. Maybe it was one of Arcadia’s toys, although Heather didn’t recall buying a ball that looked like that. It seemed old, dated somehow.
“Cady?” she called for her large English sheepdog who usually wasn’t far…but heard nothing. “Arcadia?” She called again. Arcadia whimpered softly. She spied her tucked beside the large armour in the corner. “Cady come here you silly pup…what’s wrong with you?”
Arcadia recoiled back a little and began a low but soft growl in the back of her throat. Arcadia wasn’t growling at Heather, she was looking right past her. Heather stepped toward the dog still speaking to her “Good girl Cady.” She praised. Once beside the dog, she turned around to see what the dog was growling at. Heather was prepared to see an axe wielding murderer, a burglar or even a rapist. She was not anticipating what she saw when she turned around. She managed to stifle a scream.
Staring at her from inside the mirror was a tall, thin gentleman with brown hair, a kind face and gentle playful eyes. He wore a dated suit from what Heather guessed was turn of the century and wore a sheepish grin. He smiled at her and spoke with a soft British accent. “Forgive me m’lady. I seem to have lost my sister’s ball. I don’t mean to frighten you – I will not and cannot harm you. I just wish to have my sister’s ball back.” He stretched out his hand but it did not cross the mirror’s threshold.
“Who are you?” she asked him
“My name is inconsequential…”
“Oh I’d say it’s very consequential!” she insisted.
“I cannot harm you…” he reiterated, “Please…my sister’s ball.”
“Name…” she said diligently
He signed “You are a persistent one.” He raised his eyebrow
“My house, my haunted mirror, my rules…your name, sir.” She ordered
“Niles Winston Telford the Third.” He pulled his suit jacket straightening it. “At your service.” He said with a slight bow, “ Now…might I please…have my sister’s ball back?”
Heather looked down at the back and inched toward the mirror “How do I…”
“Just give it a toss. I’ll catch it.”
Heather took a few more steps forward, looking from the ball to him and back. Gingerly she tossed the ball toward the mirror, half expecting it to bounce back and knock over her lamp or break something. The mirror consumed the ball and Niles caught it.
“Thank you,” he bowed again “M’lady.” He said turning to walk away.
“Heather…Heather Marie Farrell…the First.” She added quickly
“Pardon?” he said
“My name…it’s Heather.” She said softly
“Thank you…Lady Heather.” He smiled, turned and vanished
“You’re welcome!…Annnd I’m talking to a mirror” she murmured “I really need to take a vacation.”
***
“Your mirror…talked…to you…” Elizabeth raised an eyebrow over her coffee cup“I swear Lizzy! I know how “Outer Limits” that sounds.” She said sipping her hot chocolate pulling her knees up to her chin
“Not so much “Outer Limits” per se. I’m thinking more downtown Belleview-esque.” She teased “Or perhaps X-Files…”
“And it wasn’t the mirror that talked to me…”
“Oh that’s right…it was the man in the mirror…” added Elizabeth “Because that’s oh so much better.”
“Wasn’t that a Michael Jackson song?” questioned Heather’s other friend Anya who sat down with a cup of coffee.
“It was…such a shame he’s dead now. He was so iconic.” Nodded Elizabeth “So… getting back to mirror man. How much wine had you had?”
“Look, I know what I saw. I’m not crazy, and I wasn’t drunk.” Heather insisted
“Ok geeze! Simmer down!” Elizabeth said jokingly to get Heather to smile and ease the tension. “We didn’t say we didn’t believe you…we’re just teasing you.”
Heather nodded “I know what I saw.” She said softly “I know it was real.”
“Okay so…lets assume for a moment that you haven’t completely slipped your weasel and you are sane. Did he give you a name?” asked Anya
“Actually, he did. Niles Winston Telford the Third.” Said Heather
“I think you should do a little digging online and see what you can dig up on dear old Niles.” Shrugged Anya “What can it hurt?”
Heather sighed into her cup. Maybe Anya had a point. “Yea…I guess I could do that. What can it hurt?”
“And if you have slipped your weasel…well…we still love you.” Giggled Anya
“Oh yea…thanks for your support.” Heather laughed
“We try.” Elizabeth smiled
***
“Alright Mr. Telford…let’s see what we can find out about you.” Heather sat cross-legged on her bed with her laptop. Arcadia’s tail wagged sleepily as she lay on the bed beside her. She went to the search engine and inputted his name. A string of websites came up with partial hits, but nothing concrete. She tried shortening it to just the first and last name and adding England into the search parameters. Still nothing. She sighed and began to absentmindedly pet Arcadia’s fur. “Okay…so…now what Cady?” The dog’s eyes turned and looked at her when she said her name, her tail wagged again. “How bout New York instead?” she suggested more to herself than the dog. She typed in “Niles Telford New York” into the search engine and again pressed ‘enter’. This time a wikipedia entry came up.
”Oh! We got something!” she said excitedly clicking the link “Niles Winston Telford the Third, son of Niles and Gertrude Telford of Staffordshire, England
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