Chapter 2: Through the Looking Glass

When I got there Eric let me in, handed me a drink, and led me to a home office setup. Once we got comfortable, he started in.

“I’ve talked to a couple of the people you served with in Afghanistan. One of the officers, when he heard that your wife had died, said that you actually had been in combat, but refused to admit it because you didn’t want your wife to know. He gave me some other names and I’ve gotten emails from a couple of them. You should have gotten a Purple Heart and at least a CIB even if you didn’t get any of the ‘I’m a hero’ medals.”

“Well, yeah, I guess it doesn’t really matter now, but I didn’t want Sally to worry about me. She didn’t need to know how ugly it got sometimes.”

It had gotten real ugly a couple of times. I’d gone out to work on damaged equipment several times, and about every other trip we’d get ambushed. I’d fired my M-16 at enemies more than once. I’d even fired my pistol a couple of times. And, I’d certainly been fired at in return, but my only wound was from an RPG fragment. I got it put in my record as an accident from an engine blowing up while I was working on it, though. It was true. Sally didn’t need to know that the reason it blew up was because someone hit it with an RPG while I was working on it.

“The fact that you have been there, and you don’t talk about it, is a concern. Since your bill was getting paid by the insurance, I didn’t tell the doctors. They’d want to keep you under observation for PTSD for the next 20 years. Still, you don’t seem to be overly affected by it. I mean, you don’t jump when you hear loud noises.”

“People only do that when they associate loud noises with danger. Me, I’ve been around loud engines too much. It has to sound like a real gun before I tense up. And, frankly, I probably wouldn’t even wake up if someone ran through a whole magazine in full auto as long as it was an M-16 and I was tired. An AK-47, now, if I hear that I’ll probably jump out of bed and dive for shelter.”

“Right. Any idiot can look at a gun and say ‘That’s an AK’ or ‘That’s a 16’. Very few men can identify them by sound. You’ve been in firefights and you know the difference. So, on to what I need help with. First, some background and I know that this won’t make any sense and you won’t believe me anyway, but I gotta try, okay?”

Eric leaned forward. “Back when mirrors were first invented, they were expensive as hell, pretty fragile, and only rich people had them. The poor people, the peasants, didn’t understand them and made up all kinds of stories about what magic the mirrors could do. They could tell the future, they could steal your soul, if you broke one you’d have seven years of bad luck, on and on and on and on.”

“Sure.” I had no idea where he was going, but I could listen. I also had no idea what was in the drink he’d handed me, but it had alcohol and it tasted good, and I could sit and agree with whatever he said all day long. No problem.

“Okay, it seems like most folktales have a basis in truth. We think that the stories of dragons may have come from people finding a whale skeleton, or maybe some dinosaur bones. Bigfoot and the Yeti may be based upon Neanderthal Man. All the stories about giants may be based upon some other species of man that is no longer with us. And so on.”

“Right.”

“Okay, Jason, I’ve got a question for you. How did Alice end up in Wonderland?”

“Uh ... she fell through a looking-glass?”

“Exactly right, Jason. She fell through a mirror. And folktales are based upon fact. There’s nothing else I can say that you’ll believe, so I have to show you. Come over here.”

Eric had gotten up and walked over to a closet. He turned and asked “Do you have anything in your pockets? You’ll want to empty them out. Just put everything on the desk.”

Sure. House and car keys, wallet, fingernail clippers, a pen. I would have had some change, but I hadn’t been out shopping much lately.

“Your leg brace, too.”

So I sat back down and took it off. That took a few minutes.

He opened the closet door while I was taking the brace off. When I looked up again, I saw a full-length mirror mounted on the back of the door. Eric took my hand and walked through the mirror. I went with him.

It had happened too fast for me to object to anything. Eric had grabbed my hand and then walked through the mirror. I had, perforce, followed him through the mirror.

On the other side, Eric let go of my hand. We were clearly no longer in his office, or even in that closet. We were in a white room. I could feel my pants falling and I grabbed them.

“Oh, shit. I’m sorry, I completely forgot about that. Look, the mirror will NOT transport metal objects. Whoever runs this system is serious about that. If you had a gun, a knife, or even keys or your dog tags, they are on the floor of my office right now. We’ll get them when we get back. That’s why I had you empty your pockets back there. I had to pay $150 for a new car key because the plastic parts came with me but the metal parts stayed behind, and the security chip didn’t work any more. If your clothes had a zipper or studs or rivets, they are all on the floor back at home. If you had a metal belt buckle, well, you still have your belt but you don’t have the buckle any more.”