THROUGH A LOOKING GLASS DARKLY
By Barbara Fite, Nancy Hendrix and Sacra Nicholas
Introduction:
May we introduce ourselves? We're Barbara Fite, Nancy Hendrix and Sacra Nicholas and we're three middle school teachers who collaborated to write the fantasy novel you're about to read. It was our desire to write a book that would appeal to all ages, view the world and it's inhabitants as interconnected and possessing a quality of oneness, and to also write a book that embraced a spiritual response to life's gifts and adversities.
Why all ages? The part humanity will play in the prosperity of our planet will depend upon the actions and application of the rich, flexible minds and visions of our youth. The authors couldn't resist writing a novel that in movie form would reach all ages, but in book form would capture the imagination of the young group of individuals who will one day be in charge of our world. It is our hope that they will take these ideas and use them to make a positive contribution in the future.
What idea? The idea is that the challenges and problems to be met in the future all contain seeds for growth and transformation. These are the seeds of forgiveness and love and when tended to and nurtured, they become the fruit of nourishment for all.
The book takes many unexpected turns in bringing you this message. Don't be surprised if you feel confused and thrown off balance at times. We have done this on purpose, we hope, for your ultimate benefit. Be brave! Read on, you'll have your answers all in good time.
It has been fun and we wish you courage, the peace that comes from forgiveness and understanding, love and joy as you uncover the mysteries woven into our little myth.
CHAPTER 1
The 3:30 dismissal bell jolted Mason Stuart back to reality. There was a general low groan throughout the class in response to something Mr. Harper had said; but Mason, lost in his own thought, had missed it. He slowly and methodically began to rise from his chair and collect his books while the rest of the class scurried to the door.
"Come on, Mason, let's go!"
Mason looked up to see Sarah Matthews standing at the front of his row holding her stack of books in her left arm and resting her right hand on her right hip pretending to be irritated.
"I've got half an hour to kill before my piano lesson with Ms. Franklin. Let's go find a snack," she said.
Mason smiled at Sarah's exaggerated stance. She was always in a hurry. She was a very busy girl. Her schedule was full from morning until bedtime and she couldn't stand being idle. She took her library book to every class just in case she had a few minutes free to read for an upcoming book report. She played volleyball and basketball for her school team in the fall. And now that it was spring she was heavy into track. Her interests and talents ran in so many directions, that she was the perfect blend of tomboy and all-American girl. Mason thought she was terrific. She was pretty, sweet, smart, popular and, most of all, a lot of fun to be with. They had been friends since third grade, but relationships with the opposite sex in those days were strictly platonic affairs. Since they had been pals for so long, they were both surprised when they found themselves falling in love.
As they headed down the hall from class, Sarah complained, "Can you believe Mr. Harper gave us two whole pages of homework over the weekend? That reeks! I already have a test in biology and one in English on Monday. I have to study for them sometime, and now two pages of homework in Trig! Did it ever occur to teachers to
check around and see who was giving tests and when?"
"Are you kidding? They do check. That's how they all know to schedule them on the same day," said Mason, tongue-in-cheek.
"You're probably right," Sarah laughed. "Oh well, I guess it could be worse. I could be having a test in French and history, too.
As they turned the corner and headed toward the vending machines in the Snack Shack, they ran right smack dab into Mr. Matthews, the school principal and Sarah's father. Mr. Matthews was a tall man in his mid-forties with a bit of a paunch and a receding hairline. The gray at his temples gave him a distinguished look, and all in all he was rather handsome.
"Oh, excuse me," begged Mr. Matthews. "I wasn't watching where. . . Oh hi, Sarah; hi, Mason."
"Hi, Mr. Matthews," Mason said, hoping that he wasn't going to mention Mason's present academic status. He knew all too well that he had been slacking off in all his classes.
"Hi, Dad," Sarah giggled. "What were you doing?"
"Oh, one of the teachers smelled cigarette smoke coming from the boys' restroom, so I was checking it out. She was right about the smoke, but no one was in there when I arrived. I have a pretty good idea who it might have been though. I was just going back to my office when I thought I heard something and turned to look behind me. That's when we bumped into each other. Sorry I practically mowed you over."
"That's okay," said Mason and Sarah in unison.
"So where were you kids headed?"
"We were going to get a snack before my piano lesson," Sarah replied.
"Oh yes, I had forgotten about your lesson. What time will you be finished?" Sarah's father asked.
"If Ms. Franklin is ready so we can start on time, I should be finished by 4:45."
"I might be able to leave a little early today. If you want to wait on me for a ride, I should be ready around 5:15," Mr. Matthews offered.
Two or three times each week, Sarah would put her books and purse in her dad's car and run the two miles to their house. It was part of her training program for track and it was also helping her to get in shape for the Tulsa Run, a 15K race through downtown Tulsa held every October. She had finally persuaded Mason to run it with her, so they sometimes spent their Saturday mornings jogging together.
"Sure, that would be great," said Sarah, "and I can spend that thirty minutes getting in a little practice on the piano here."
"Fine, just come by my office when you're finished." Turning to Mason he said," It was nice seeing you, Mason, take it easy."
"Yeah, Mr. Matthews, you too." returned Mason as he stood envying the Matthews' family which, unlike his own, was still intact.
On their way again, Sarah and Mason finally made it to the vending machines. Sarah quickly scanned the selections. "Oh, darn, no powdered donuts! Oh well, I guess I'll just have to settle for chocolate cupcakes." The machine was merciful for once and gave her the cupcakes when she pressed the designated button. "Here, you want one Mase?"
"Sure," said Mason as he dropped two coins into the drink machine. "You wanna share a soda?"
"Okay, whatever you choose."
"Well, I can tell you it won't be diet," Mason grinned.
"I guess if I'm having a cupcake, I might as well have a real soda, too," Sarah groaned.
"Go on, live a little," urged Mason, "you can run it off tomorrow."
"Mason, you are a very bad influence!"
"Ah, but that's why you find me so charming and totally irresistible."
"Dream on, ego head. Don't forget, you'll be running with me tomorrow, and now we'll have to do an extra mile."
They took their snack outside and found a nice quiet bench under the flag pole.
Sarah tore open the package of cupcakes. Soda spewed as Mason pulled the tab on the can, spraying them both. They had a good laugh and polished off their cupcakes in a few seconds.
"What were you saying before about a trig assignment?" Mason asked. "Pages 251 and 253, didn't you hear Mr. Harper?
"No, I really didn't."
"He also said all make-up assignments are due on Monday, so you might wanna hit the books this weekend. I looked over at you several times during class and you sure did look like you were somewhere else - like a million miles away. What were you thinking about, anyway?" asked Sarah, more out of curiosity than concern.
"Nothing. I can't tell you one thing I was thinking. I was just veging out."
"Why?"
"I don't know. I just can't seem to concentrate."
"But you love math. You're a whiz at it. Why aren't you interested?" she asked. "I don't know. With everything that's going on at home, I'm not interested in much of anything except being with you - that part of my life is great!"
"Don't blame me!" Sarah joked.
"Oh, I'm not, that's Mom's job. She thinks you're the reason I'm flunking trig."
"Well, we both know that's not the only thing she has against me." Her brows knitted together as she remembered the vast difference in hers and Mason's backgrounds. "She doesn't like me because I'm not your kind. My parents barely make enough money to be classified as middle class. Your parents are among Tulsa's most elite. That's a big difference. You know there's no way my parents could afford to send me to this private school if my dad didn't happen to be the principal."
"None of that matters. We care about each other. That's all that counts," Mason said.
"No, it's not all that matters. I feel really uncomfortable around your mom." "I know, Mom is such a snob. I hate her for that."
"Mason, she is your mother," Sarah chided.
"I know, but she doesn't have to act that way!
" And just being in your house is a little overwhelming - two servants and everything."
"So we won't go to my house anymore. I like being at your house better anyway. Your house is a nice place. I feel at home there. But being in the principal's house does sorta give me the creeps."
They both chuckled and Mason reached over to whisk a cupcake crumb from Sarah's chin.
"It's time for my lesson, I have to go."
"Not so fast," Mason said as he ran his finger down her cheek and under her chin. He lifted her head and leaned toward her, staring into her beautiful blue eyes for a moment. She felt her heart race. Part of her wanted to jump up and run, and part of her never wanted to leave. And then he kissed her.
CHAPTER 2
Mason stuck his head in Austin's room: "Hey, get up, lazybones. Let's go shoot some baskets before it gets hot."
"Man, Mason, it's Saturday morning. I just wanna sleep." Rubbing his eyes, Austin sat up, yawned and then remembered last night. "Wow, that was some fight you and Mom had. I guess your grades weren't so good, huh?" Mason just looked at his little brother and shrugged. Austin looked up at him admiringly and smiled, "I thought it was great when you told her if she couldn't get her own life together to stay out of yours. Good job, Mase! Okay, let's go eat breakfast and shoot some hoops."
Downstairs, Mason practically knocked the housekeeper over as he bounded into the kitchen. "Sorry, Mary," as he gave her a hug. "What are you doing here on Saturday?"
"I promised your Mom I'd help her with her big party tonight - she's all hysterical. You know how she gets."
"Oh, no", Mason groaned. "I forgot about her fancy party for her banking bigwhigs. What a bore!"
Mary just laughed, and shaking her finger at him, warned, "You just stay out of the way this time: no super glue on the forks, no whoopie cushions on the chairs, no nothin'! Okay?" Mason just laughed, grabbed himself an apple and gave Mary another hug on his way out to find his basketball. Mary shook her head and muttered to herself, "God knows I love that kid like he was my own, but you never know what he's gonna do next."
"Morning, Mary."
"Morning, Ms. Stuart. You don't look like you rested much last night."
"How could I? If I wasn't worrying about this party, I was upset at Mason. How could he? How dare he bring home the grades he did: an F in trig and an F in family relations. My lord, how could a kid with an IQ of 140 bring home an F in a course he
himself called a 'blowoff class'! I think he's just trying to upset me. The counselor said he's still upset about this divorce business, but I don't know. I think it's that new girl, Sarah..."
"Well, I'm no expert, Ms. Stuart, but you and Mr. Stuart have just been divorced five months. I think I'd listen to that counselor."
Waving her hands as if to dismiss the whole problem, Kate Stuart walked to the door and yelled at Mason. "Mason, don't get all dirty and sweaty playing basketball. We have to leave in thirty minutes for your appointment with the counselor."
Mason's face turned red with anger. "Why should I have to go to a counselor? You and Dad are the ones with the problems!"
Wordlessly, Kate walked back inside.
Having observed this quietly from the background, George came around to the driveway. George was the family's gardener. He had kept the lawn and gardens of Kate Stuart's ancestral home for over four decades, and had worked for Kate's parents even before she was born. Although he was somewhat of an institution, he always knew his place. He was a servant first and foremost and lived in a small cottage apartment on the grounds of the estate. Mason and Austin would go and visit him after his work was done and always had looked up to him for guidance, especially the last few months. Every year at Christmas time they would buy him a special gift, because he was not just the family's servant, he was their friend.
"Hey, George. Didn't see you out here. I suppose you're helping get ready for the big party tonight, huh?"
George just nodded, saying, "I suppose so. Your mom wants the shrubs along the drive trimmed long before the guests arrive, so I'll be starting that shortly. But right now come here, I want to show you something." George led Mason to the nearest section of the garden, full of raggedy-looking peonies. "Here's what I've been doing this morning,
Mason." He lovingly touched a peony blossom. It wasn't quite open, but Mason could tell that it was an unusual deep pink - so deep it looked almost red. It was especially beautiful, with some dew drops glistening on the edge of the petals, and the fragrance was heavy and lush. Mason wished he could pick it and give it to Sarah; it some how reminded him of her. But he was afraid, as sickly as the peonies looked, that it would just hurt them more. He secretly wondered if George could really 'fix' them, even as magical as George sometimes appeared to be.
George seemed to read his mind. "The winter was pretty hard on these, but they'll bounce back with a little care. It's amazing what a little TLC can do. I helped your Grandma Patrice plant these peonies over forty years ago. They came from her mother's - your great-grandma's - before that. They're priceless - like a living heirloom. They're just one of the ties that bind us all together, Mason."
"They look like pretty thin threads to me, George - a pretty sickly lot right now, if you ask me. Hope you can fix 'em."
"Oh, I have faith, Mason. Sometimes these things that appear to be threads are stronger than steel. You'll see. Let me get to work and you go play ball with Austin - it looks like he could use a little practice."
In no time, Kate was backing out of the garage and honking for Mason. He climbed in the front with Austin sitting in back. Mason couldn't help thinking that in just twenty-three days he'd have his permit and six months later a driver's license, freedom and independence, and his own car. His dad had promised him a car for his sixteenth birthday. Everyone who was anyone had a nice car by his sixteenth birthday. Mason's best friend, Aric, was already driving his own brand-new Mustang and Sarah had dreamed of a LeBaron convertible - red, but it wasn't likely she'd get one unless she won a sweepstakes or found a terrific paying job so she could buy it herself. Her parents certainly couldn't afford to buy a new car. Mason was still trying to decide between a silver RX7 or a black 240ZX. His daydreaming was interrupted by his mom. "I really hope this visit to the counselor will help with things between us, Mason."
"Mom, I'm really surprised you even want me 'fixed'. I figured you might just throw me out like you did the VCR when it broke."
"I don't appreciate your sarcasm, Mason! I don't need that right now!" Kate's anger was always apparent in her driving; she peeled out of her parking place in reverse, veering off the edge of the driveway and into the bed of peonies, and then straightened it out and slammed it into drive.
Mason decided not to mention anything about the 'heirloom' peonies or the fact that - luckily - George was in the house rather than the peony garden. Instead, he admitted, "I'm sorry, Mom. I know you're under a lot of stress right now."
Thanks, Mason. I ... " Interrupted by the car phone, Kate's forgiving tone turned hostile: "No, J.D., I've already told you the boys will be with me in Dallas on the 14th . . really don't care what Austin said. The fact is, he'll be with me! Look, J.D., you're already five days late with the child support. I don't think you're in any position to be making demands. . . Oh, is that right? Well, just tell it to your lawyer because I sure don't care!"
Mason turned to give Austin a wink. He knew how this kind of scene made him feel and he figured it was even worse for a nine-year-old. In fact, Mason thought he was handling the divorce better than anyone else in spite of a few bad grades. He wasn't all stressed out and angry all the time like his mom had been the last few months. And he didn't have unexplained nightmares a couple of times a week like Austin - that really worried him about Austin. Austin always had been a sensitive kid and a little more high-strung like his mom. Mason was more laid back, until lately anyway. Mason really felt that all his problems would be solved if their parents would just get back together again.
The next few seconds were a jumble . . . Kate was screaming into the car phone - something about "and if you want to start World War III, just .. " ; then a screech of tires on pavement, a glimpse of a red car trying to swerve to miss their Mercedes, and then blackness.
CHAPTER 3
I opened my eyes to see an enormous full moon beaming down on me. It was the most beautiful moon I had ever seen. I sat up and began to wonder what I was doing sleeping outside. As I looked around me in the moonlight I realized that I was in a forest in the Rockies where my family had camped two summers ago - before my parents started fighting all the time. But how had I gotten here, and where was everyone else? Being alone like this frightened me a little so I called : "Austin?, Mom?" but there was no answer. I was cold and hungry and wondered what wild animals might be lurking in those woods - and what if they were hungry too? I got up to look for a safe place to hide. As I turned to the right, a shimmering light caught my eye. I couldn't tell what it was, but I was drawn to it as if it were magnet. I began to wonder if I had been kidnapped by some alien or something. Wherever I was right now felt more like science fiction than real life. As I moved toward the light I realized that I was beside some water, either a pond or a small lake, I couldn't tell for sure in the dark. The light, however, was not a reflection of the moon on the water as I had first thought. It was much too brilliant and besides it seemed to be coming from under the water. I went over to check it out and a warm, peaceful feeling came over me. I couldn't explain it, but I felt calm as I moved toward the light. My curiosity was getting the best of me and I felt drawn to the source of this strange glow. As I reached the water's edge I could see that the light was only a few inches in front of me. I squatted down beside the water for a minute or two and just gazed into it, then cautiously I dipped my hand in. The chilled water covered my hand and part of my arm before my fingers could touch the flat smooth object resting on the bottom. It seemed to be reflecting the moon's light with indescribable brilliance. The object was lodged in the wet sand and a few pebbles laying on it blocked its reflection so that it seemed to have rays. Rolling the stones away, I brushed the sand off and freed it. I held in my hand what appeared to be a simple mirror, but only a part of a mirror. It was smooth and round on one edge and had
two other sides that were broken at an angle making it resemble a piece of pie. It looked very ordinary in the moonlight, but holding it gave me a great sense of peace and I felt safe. Stopping to lean against an aspen I suddenly realized that I was very tired, too tired to even look for my family, so I decided to wait and begin my search again in the morning.
The next time I opened my eyes, it was not the moon I saw, but the sun. Its bright light caused me to squint and as I began to search the area I again wondered how and why I had gotten here and why my family was not with me. As I looked around, I suddenly spotted a very large bird perched on the only remaining limb of what had once been a giant tree. I thought it was an eagle, but that was unlikely even in the Rockies. I had learned in science class back in eighth grade that eagles are rare and at one time were endangered, so I guessed maybe it was being protected on some kind of a nature preserve. But even if an eagle did have a nest in the area, I still found it surprising to see that it would come as near to a human being as this bird had. I squinted again and rubbed my eyes with the backs of my hands. Out of nowhere I heard a voice say,
"I see you found it , too."
I flung my hands from my face, cutting my eyelid on the broken mirror which I was still holding.
It was just a surface scratch. It didn't even bleed, but it did sting. I paid it no attention but went on to demand, "Who said that?"
"I said it! Do you see anyone else around here?" replied the bird. "What are you?" I asked.
"Haven't you ever looked on the back of a quarter or the top of a flag pole?" he implored.
"You mean, you're an eagle?"
"No, I'm a short, dull flamingo - of course, I'm an eagle!"
"But eagles don't talk!"
"Says who?"
"Well, I never heard of a talking eagle." "When was the last time you met an eagle, face to face?"
"Come to think of it, never."
"There you have it. You shouldn't go around making blanket statements about creatures you've never met. Parrots talk, mynah birds talk, even those dinky little parakeets talk, why not the regal eagle?"
"But who taught you how?"
"That doesn't matter, back to my original observation, I see you've found it, too." "Found what?" I asked.
"That thing in your hand."
"Oh, you mean this broken mirror?"
"Precisely."
"What is so special about a broken mirror?" I inquired.
"Well, we've been waiting for you to come."
"Me, why? You said we. Who is 'we'?"
"One question at a time, if you don't mind. First of all, we is all the animals of the forest. And we've been waiting for you because there is an ancient legend that says if the mirror could be removed from its resting place by a human being, then whoever possessed it would have great powers. Those of us who know of its whereabouts have always found it to be just beyond our grasp. Now that you've removed it, you may expect to be sought after by those who desire its power."
"So what is its power?" I questioned.
"It's different for everyone," he replied. "The legend simply says that if you can see yourself clearly you may have whatever you desire."
I held the mirror in front of me, but my face was smudgy. The tree leaves behind me, though, were perfectly clear, but not my face.
"I guess I'm not doing so good," I admitted.
"What do you mean?" asked the eagle.
"I'm smudgy!" I replied.
The eagle flew over and lit on my shoulder.
"Don't be alarmed," he said, "I just want to see myself. Hmmm. "You're right, I'm smudgy too!"
I had jumped with surprise. I didn't know what to do so I tried to just stand still. I was hoping this bold bird didn't have fleas or worse, rabies. "What do you make of it," I asked, feeling a little odd asking a talking eagle's opinion on anything.
He thought for a moment and then said, "My guess is that you have to have the other piece for it to work right."
For a moment that seemed possible, but I remembered how clearly the leaves had been reflected; there had to be some other explanation.
"No," I said. "I don't think that can be right. I've seen plenty of broken mirrors and they all worked just fine. Maybe it's dirty."
I held the mirror in front of my mouth and breathed on it. Then I rubbed it on my jeans, hoping to clean it. It looked completely clean, but my image was still smudged. Maybe the eagle was right. Perhaps this mirror, with it's special powers, did have to be whole to work properly.
That thought struck me as ridiculous. Everything was ridiculous! I had been carrying on a conversation with a talking eagle about some broken magical mirror that could give me whatever I desired. What I desired was to go home.
I slumped against a tree, feeling discouraged and defeated. Resting my eyes, I couldn't help but hope that when I opened them again, I'd find this was all a bad dream, but I slept instead.
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