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The Mirror The area at the front of the house spread out and around a broad leafed gum which had grown from a sapling. The view from its giant limbs swept across the kilometres until in the far distance another house sat on a knoll of land, surrounded by hectares of millet. The rolling hills were perfect for horses and cattle as they grazed contentedly. Penelope had walked from the kitchen to watch as her Father attempted to break the dry ground, it had not rained for months and the stony ground needed a mattock. Both hands swept together, rubbed each other and grasped the raw wood of the handle. She watched as it arced into the air, gliding smoothly over his broad, but slightly bent shoulders almost meeting the back of his legs. Then with a gleam of satisfaction on his sun dried features, the mattock started its long swing to the ground. As it struck, dirt fragments and small stones were pulverised and tiny grains blew into the air. Taking a deep breath Penny’s Father drew the shovel to him and moved the dirt out of the hole. As he checked the depth he considered whether the plant would have enough room to grow. Satisfied he looked up at a smiling Penny. ‘Now, kitten, do you want to do this or will I?’ ‘Oh Poppy, you plant it, we don't want to spoil your run of bad luck.’ He smiled at her use of her name for him. Since she was able to talk, she always called him ‘Poppy’. ‘While you bury that poor plant, will I make some dinner?’ she inquired. The swing of the mattock reminded her of the crescendo at the end of the sixteenth concerto; the sound of it breaking ground could have been the drum roll. But the perspiration running down her fathers face was real and the broad smile as he lifted the mattock from the ground wiping his face was no different than the smile he gave her when he used to read her to sleep. The farm sat on a hill catching the wind thankfully without the exhaust smoke from the nearby city. A tall grove of trees drank the impurities before the whirlwind cantered up the valley expiring against the west wall of the house. Her eyes followed him as he moved to the shovel clearing the dirt from the hole where he would place the plant. Gently knocking the shovel against the pot to loosen the dirt from around the plant one eye looked up as he smilingly said; ‘Now kitten, dinner won’t cook itself.’ His facial muscles rippled as his eyes started to water. He had passed sixty-two wonderful years, made more than wonderful by his wife and only child. At 187cms his frame had started to settle with age but the muscles in his arms and chest still portrayed a healthy ruggedness. That feeling had been passed on to his daughter. He regained control of himself thinking of her pet word for him. He looked down to the ground as he remembered the day she had left home to her first job. He shook his head as he covered the shrub with dirt and compost. ‘Ever since we lost her mother, she has tried so hard.’ He looked to the clear blue sky for inspiration. ‘She has her Mother’s looks, cracking good sort she was.’ He smiled as a picture of his wife came to his mind. ‘Beautiful eyes, they were like saucers and so blue. Every-time she looked at me, I forgot where I was. One day I asked her out and she said to me, ‘about time you snob, how long does a girl have to wait?’ Ah, what a girl and Penelope is a mirror of her mother. Tears flooded down his face as he saw her once again. She had been standing at the end of the street, just where it started downhill and she looked as if she was standing on top of a hill. The sun had outlined her body and the skirt had swirled around her legs and just for an instant, the light had shone in its full glory and bathed her in an almost ethereal glow. I’ll never forget that scene; it was as if something had turned all the lights on that one spot and all at the same time. It was weird, and then everything returned to normal. But I have that picture burned into my memory. He smiled as he walked into the garden shed where he stored the tools and ride-on mower. In the corner was a table and chair with a view from the window. And on the table in a solitary tableau were place mats and a mirror at the end of the table hanging from the wall. Wiping his shoes on a mat, he pulled the chair back to give him room for one knee across the other. The white wispy hair drooped over a washboard forehead sitting on the wide lumpy nose between two brownish eyes. The lips were taught, not fleshy but added to his features. His browned face fell together quite naturally but it was the eyes now fixed on the mirror, which opened to his soul. His lips moved slowly as if he was answering someone not present. The hand danced in the air as he talked to the mirror. Fifteen minutes disappeared while he sat wistfully, until he suddenly stood up remembering his dinner. Lightly waving at the wall he walked out of the shed, with longer strides. His back was straight, not bent, his walk was purposeful, and his eyes suddenly had a strange light in them. ‘Now,’ her Father said as he cleaned the plate. ‘This job you spoke about, how is it going?’ Penelope had put on a track suit ready for her after dinner walk and looked across to her Father, a Father who had changed in some manner, he seemed different – she shook her head, no she imagined it. ‘I like the work; I’m a secretary in an Architects office. At the moment they are consulting on a forty storey office tower in the city, and I assist on the internal structural plans.’ Penny moved her Father’s plate as he ate the last piece of bread. ‘Forty stories, what is it, Arabian nights?’ he laughed as he tasted the last of the pasta. ‘Oh Daddy,’ she turned to laugh with her Father as he stood up to his full height bending to encircle her with his bear like arms. Breaking away she rinsed the last of the dishes and called to her collie dogs. ‘Walk, walk, who wants to go for a walk?’ The light off the front verandah spotlighted her as she went to the dogs. Waving to her Father she set out on her nightly wandering on the special path her Father had built for her. Penny savoured the fresh night air and thought of Jordan. ‘I wonder if he has actually taken her out as the other girls think?’ In another location far from Penny’s family farm, the subject of her thoughts was considering a dual problem. Would he join the partners at the club or try and find out where the blonde secretary spent her time. His brow furrowed as he wondered at the attraction. ‘Colin, where is your secretary?’ Colin stood up turning at the same time and hesitated, ‘Who?’ ‘Your secretary Colin, the girl who has taken your plans and turned them into reality.’ ‘Oh Jordan aren’t your ample arms full at the moment?’ The friends jousted at each other because neither of them was comfortable with the weekly meetings at the club. The club met once a week and was made up of the current partners of the firm. Jordan was the youngest at 28, but he resented the club, because very little business was actually discussed. The older members were always disparaging each others' attempt at extra-marital affairs. He had different views, but then his astuteness in the architectural field had lead to the offer for him to join the firm. His career had been energetic and he knew or, at least he had a reasonable idea of what he wanted to do, but his life was missing something. He loved older buildings; they had majesty about them, a touch of the master. He had an old fashioned mystique at least that is what the other members of the club thought. Jordan seemed uninterested in the basic male need to strut. He had a refinement, a love of the classic. The crumbling structure of an old sandstone building, the aura that surrounded, even pervaded them, held a fascination for him. He was prone to see thing's others were blind to, or could not understand. Jordan’s mystique led him to see beauty beneath the superficial. Striding around the office in his tweed jacket with reinforced sleeves he set the office buzzing. The current gossip had him dating the social snob, Becky Armstrong-Smyth. Penelope heard the gossip and thought it a shame that he would be another ring on Becky’s bracelet. Becky, who as the other girls knew, was waiting until her family allowed her to assume the mantle of her inheritance. ‘So what’s happening Jordan?’ He looked around from where he had been staring out of the window to see the senior partner, with the usual cocktail in his hand. ‘Nothing Don, I was thinking about Ishmael Place, and the problems with the entry-way for wheel-chairs.’ ‘That’s what the service bay is for, you don’t want the foyer blocked by wheel chairs,’ laughed Don. ‘Why should people have to go in via a service bay, we could change the ramp?’ ‘What, and ruin the aesthetics. Jordan, there is a ramp for God’s sake, what else do you want, glass lifts, porters to push them about?’ ‘No, but the ramp is too steep, for another, the surface should be aggregated on the downward slope, to prevent slippage. Otherwise it will be too dangerous.’ ‘Why don’t I get you a drink, these meetings in the club aren’t for work, we use them to get to know each other, now what do you say?’ ‘I say it’s too dangerous, and no thanks to your offer.’ As he spoke he walked away annoyed. -------------------------------- Penelope never joined in the office gossip, for she knew it was to no avail. Who would want a chubby girl with blonde hair and acne marks on her face, she thought to herself. ‘I can’t even dance, and Becky wins ballroom dancing contests,’ her thoughts trailed off as she bent to the work in front of her. She could feel eyes on her as she traced the support lines of the atrium for Ishmael Place. Without moving her shoulders she gazed up from the drafting table as a tweed jacket disappeared around the corner of the main office. ‘Do you think he is actually dating Becky?’ Sharon tittered. ‘Well, I’m not sure and Becky isn’t talking. But her look when he goes past would start a bushfire.’ ‘Oh Sassy, you do start rumours.’ ‘I do not; he hasn’t asked anybody to the party, he must be taking her.’ ‘What party?’ Penny asked, as she stirred her tea. ‘Sorry Penny, I forgot you are new. Every year, just before Christmas the partners have a thank-you party for clients and staff to celebrate the past year. It cements relationships and is good for business.’ Felicity, the senior partner’s secretary was talking. ‘And this year the party will be at the Hilton,’ she informed the group. ‘Oh,’ said Penny. ‘You will be coming,’ the girls said, looking at her. ‘I don’t know, I mean I couldn’t join in and I don’t have anybody to go with.’ ‘There must be somebody you can ask?’ ‘No, nobody, Dad will be up at the farm and I don't know anybody down here.’ The girls looked at each other as Felicity stood up. ‘Oh well, back to the drawing boards girls. Do let me know how many will be bringing partners please, by Friday.’ Penelope despondently pushed herself out of the room, her mind once again dominated by her thoughts, ‘Who would want to take me to a party, when everybody will want to dance. Look at me, not much of a picture.’ By the time she had made the corridor, the anguish was replaced by a smile for her favourite job, outlining, was waiting for her on the layout table. Setting out her drafting pens she busily arranged everything in order. It was then; when she turned back to her table that she saw them. Three African violets were arranged along her lighting array, the complex of specialist strobe lights for detailed work. Someone had turned the strobes around so that the lights bathed the flowers. Confused at first, for she thought she was at her desk, but she was. ‘Somebody must have mistaken my desk, they are beautiful though. . .’ ‘Penelope, have you - oh you have an admirer, who is it?’ Penelope was about to answer Felicity when she realised, ‘aA admirer, no, somebody must have mistaken my desk for someone else-’ ‘Nobody leaves violets by mistake, Penny - come on who is it?’ Flustered, for this was the first time anybody had given her flowers, or even the time of day. ‘There must be a mistake, they must be for Becky. Felicity would you pass me the card, I’m sure there is an-.’ Looking at the card she read the words inscribed under her name. A ray of light has entered my life, I bid that it is never darkened. She looked down to her hands and they were shaking. ‘Oh, that’s beautiful, but who, who put them there?’ Penny turned away from Felicity as the tears coursed down her cheek. A delicious feeling made her spine tingle as her skin became hot and then cooled. A heady wave tingled along her nerve endings and her hand wiped at her tears. The suns' rays through the window, seemed to touch only her, and she felt the warmth and compassion of a caress. Fleetingly bathed by its rays, she was renewed; suddenly and inexplicably - someone else had entered her life. Felicity looked at her with a mixture of envy and awe. Why would somebody leave flowers, and the verse was lovely. For her, yes or even Becky, but Penny, it was laughable, somebody must be playing a cruel joke. With her thoughts jumbled she smiled at Penny as she trotted off to her office, still thinking of the two possibilities. She must ask around, who was the mystery person. ‘Well, what do you think of Jordan’s plans for the Atrium, Russell?’ ‘He wants the ramp lowered and the surface done with high grade silicon composite. We could loop the ramp around a central spiral, the one we were planning, that is before the cost overruns, to be the centre of the Babylonian Gardens display.’ ‘What’s wrong with that?’ ‘The cost, reworking the design will add, and the client may not agree.’ ‘If we put it right, the client may see it as we do, besides I like him, he has potential. In fact a full partnership, I think is not far off. Let’s see what he makes of this challenge. If he wants more, keep it within 5% of the contract overrun will you. But don’t tell him. I’m not hardhearted, but I have to be realistic. We have a good firm, with an excellent reputation; we also have a community responsibility. We have to balance both, our reputation for efficiency with the builders, and our community involvement.’ As Jordan realised the full scope of the project he had been handed, his shoulders slumped. He could see no way out of his predicament. He stopped suddenly as he collided with a drawing board as Penelope said, ‘Watch out clums -.’ She stopped talking as she saw his face. Something’s happened, he looks like a lost puppy.’ ‘I’m, I’m sorry - not looking.’ He stopped as he saw what she was working on, the central spiral of Ishmael Place. ‘Your drawings, the spiral, Ishmael Place,’ the words staggered out as if on crutches. ‘What-, why are you reworking the spiral?’ ‘My drawings, they, oh look don’t tell anybody, I work on these in my spare time not the firm’s. I just forgot to put them away. I always liked the Babylonian Gardens concept and I can’t see why the ramp couldn’t wrap around the central spiral like a sinuous snake.’ Tearing off his coat Jordan almost ran to his office. Hurrying back he started to measure Penny’s composite to his hastily drawn measurements, and they were within a fraction of each other. ‘How long have you been doing this - these?’ he looked at her and thought. ‘We could have the solution, right here, here with this beautiful girl, no woman. No, oh thank you, whoever you are.’ ‘Just the last two days. I worked on them on the weekend. It was just an idea; I like the concept of the Babylonian Gardens. I thought if people could walk through them on their way to work, well it might change their outlook. You know how depressed some people get when they go to work. I wondered if they walked through a garden, they may be happier seeing all the beauty around them.’ ‘But why a ramp, you designed this for -for.’ He stopped before he asked the obvious. She had designed this not only for people, but for some who were less fortunate. He couldn’t hide his excitement; she had done what would have taken him at least a month, even if he had the concept. ‘I hope you don't think this presumptuous, but I have to have the finished plans to the builder by the end of the month. That only gives me two weeks, and half the job is here. If I arrange for the board to be moved to my office, can you be spared?’ He raced on, thinking, ‘The whole plan is here, and I get to work with-with. Somebody or something is watching over me. After I placed the flowers, I didn’t know what else to do, I can’t ask anybody here. They think I’m going out with that snob Becky. But I get the chance to work with Penny, the one girl I don't know how to approach.’ Penny couldn’t believe he was serious. She had thought because of her problem, the spiral could be reworked to give others access to what was going to be one of the most beautiful buildings ever to grace the city. ‘Ishmael Place would grace the waterfront like no other building had; it would provide a link between the beauty of the river and the graciousness of modern architecture.’ She thought of the centre-piece of the building, knowing that Jordan was responsible for the original stonework. It would blend the central heritage of the city’s past with the modern trend of glass and ceramic. For him concrete was a base for a true artist, and she knew that deep down inside Jordan had an ability to see beyond. She didn’t know how she knew, it was just awareness. The speed of the arrangements, and the feverish activity did not leave her much time in the ensuing weeks. They worked closely together, stopping for the odd cup of coffee. Often letting them get cold as designs were reworked, discarded until, finally, a finished drawing was completed. After the estimator was given a final print, Jordan and Penny waited anxiously, as they knew nothing would be approved, unless the cost estimates were acceptable. But something had happened. While they worked closely together they had become familiar with each other. When Penny’s hair had fallen over her eyes, it was Jordan’s hand that had pushed the strand from her eyes. It was Jordan’s handkerchief that wiped the pencil from her cheek, and it was Penny who had rubbed the smudge from the end of his nose. She had laughed when he licked her finger for the drop of coffee she had spilt. He was talking and she was lost in thought; she had enjoyed herself, and loved being in his company. She was not looking forward to the end of the job. She would have to leave and she became despondent at the thought. Back to the farm, without a job as this one was a contract position and finished at the end of the month. Another fruitless journey trying to be normal when she couldn’t be as reception jobs for her were impossible, so she had to rely on support roles, which reduced her chances of normality. ‘Penny, Penny, where are you, you look lost in thought?’ Jordan laughed. ‘Sorry Jordan. I was just thinking, what were you saying?’ ‘The Ball, in a week, you know the clients party. We have a Ball at the Hilton and I want you to come with me.’ ‘You want -me -?’ She stopped; she couldn’t believe she was hearing properly. No one had ever asked her out, that is, not somebody she really liked. No, it was more than that. She had a deep, abiding passion to be around Jordan and the thought of leaving him, gave her a hollow feeling. She told herself that she would have to leave the firm; she couldn’t see him everyday and not be with him. She surprised herself at how quickly all this had come about. He had tried to deny he was the author of the verse, but eventually he had confessed. When she had asked him why, he had said, ‘I would like to take out to dinner, to the beach, anywhere, so long as we are together.’ Her reactions, her feelings were aglow. She had watched him around the office, often fantasising that he would ask her out, but commonsense brought her back to reality. ‘Why would he ask me out, he could ask anybody, why would he bother with a half-person?’ His voice broke through her thoughts. ‘What do you say, will you come with me?’ ‘No Jordan,’ she said as she felt tears well up in her eyes. Breaking free, for he held her arm, she fled. Going to her cubicle, her head touching her knees, she wept silently, as she knew it could never be. The following days disappeared as she applied herself to her normal work. Jordan had tried to approach her, even told her the news, that the plans had been approved. Penny had made arrangements to leave the firm and return to the farm. Her Father would not ask any questions, just nod. She knew he would understand because it had happened before. She could not accept that she was normal, her disability had become her handicap, and she hid from the world. The gossip became louder as she sipped her coffee and she could hear the girls talking about the ball. Everybody had been paired off, and her imminent departure wrapped her in despair. She would miss his smile, which started with his eyes, descending to the crinkle in his cheeks. His eyes would light up every-time he came over to talk, but she would be brusque. Eventually he would turn away, mystified as to what he had done. In her tiny flat that night humming she opened the wardrobe and reaching in she pulled the gown down, laying it on her knee. Holding it up, she swayed to and fro, imagining the music, the lights, and the strong arms about her. Breathing his masculine scent in as they swept across the floor, her feet touched the floor for a fleeting moment. R Suddenly, the knock on the door brought her back to reality. ‘Who is it?’ ‘It's Jordan, I must talk to you.’ ‘Jordan, what-how did you-?’ ‘Open the door and I’ll tell you.’ Once inside the unit, Jordan’s eyes crossed to the gown now laying half on and half off the divan. ‘Why are you here?’ ‘The plans have been approved, but you know that. I would never have done them, without your help. Can I sit down; I want to tell you something?’ Pointing to a chair, he sat grasping his hands together. Penny watched mystified as to why he was there. He was in her room, alone but she wasn’t worried. She was flattered by the attention, at the same time sad, because he reminded her of how much she would miss him. ‘What I want to say, Penny, is this, you can’t leave.’ ‘Why not, I’ve made up my mind.’ ‘Hear me out, please.’ He almost shouted the last words, his face burning with a fire no water could extinguish. ‘When I placed those flowers on your bench, they were meant to say something. -Every-time I saw you I became tongue-tied. I needed to say, to say, oh Penny, Penny, the days together we worked and we laughed, and we - in so many ways - we just seemed to be a part of each other.’ Penny opened her mouth but nothing came out. She closed her lips and tried to turn away. Her heart was jumping in her breast, her spine tingled. ‘This close to him and my fingers feel numb.’ Joy turned to anguish as she looked at his face again. Tortures, grimaces replaced the smile she knew so well. Jordan was seeking to conquer his emotions but he was going to lose her, unless he did something, but what?’ Sitting back, holding his hands he said, ‘Why won’t you come to the Ball with me?’ ‘Oh, Jordan look at me, I’m not pretty, or statuesque, or deserving. I’m plain, plump, and my face is ugly.’ Jordan struggled internally, with something, and then his resolve broke. ‘Plain,’ he yelled, ‘plump,’ burst from his mouth. ‘Penny, Penny, you are the most beautiful girl I have ever known.’ Standing he moved to her as she shrank from him, a little scared at the change in him. Reaching for her he pushed the wardrobe door closed. His hands very tenderly lifted her from the wheelchair. Supporting her by the shoulders he turned her towards the mirror. ‘Look Penny, look for heavens' sake, see what I see.’ Looking into the mirror she saw that a light mist had appeared. Suddenly the mirror cleared and Penny could see a vivacious, blonde woman standing in a room. She blinked and stared, her gown was being worn by the figure in the mirror. Her hair was swept into a crown and the face that looked at her was clear and bright. The features were highlighted by angular cheeks and the full lips were pursed as if asking a question. Penny swayed but she could feel that she would not fall. She watched as the figure turned sideways and saw a narrow waist, long sinuous legs ending in the most beautiful shoes she had ever seen. She could now see another figure appear in the mirror. It was Jordan in evening dress. Turning to face him the figure held her arms out and they came together in an embrace. Music started and she danced in his arms to the vibrant lilting tune that seemed to come from everywhere. She gasped as she realised the figure in the mirror was her. She danced and danced and danced the gown seemingly with a life of its own. The heady effect of the music, his embrace, his aroma stirred her, as nothing had before. She knew she had become entranced. She felt the strong arms about her, around and around she went, her legs moving of their own volition, legs that had been useless since the fall from the horse. Suddenly the Doctor’s words came to her from the mirror. ‘You are not paralysed; your nerve endings took some damage. If you would see a specialist, with the new techniques, the damage could be bypassed and new tissue could be introduced. I am not saying it's not a long road you have to travel, but I’m sure you could walk again. You need to believe, believe, and believe.’ The words faded as the mist reappeared and a voice broke through. ‘Penny, Penny, are you all right, you went limp and I thought you had passed out?’ She looked up, she was sitting down and Jordan was bent over her wiping her brow, with a wet cloth. ‘What happened Penny, you seemed to go faint, and so I sat you down. ‘ ‘It was a dream, a dream, when I’m wide awake, but how, what happened?’ Jordan’s anguish was real. As she looked into his face, she knew, she suddenly knew the long road she had to travel. She smiled; she wouldn’t have to walk it on her own. The mirror shone for an instant with a life of its own and then became, just a mirror again. Ends . |
