A Face without a Reflection

by Linda Lee Bowen

  The woman at the cash register was someone I had seen nearly every school day since I started kindergarten. She was a black woman with short, straight hair that appeared to be glued down to keep the natural curl from springing up unexpectedly. Her smile was genuinely warm and always worth returning, although she didn’t give smiles away easily or often.

  She had a real knack for sizing people up very quickly. She could also build you up or cut you down with just a glance, which was something I considered to be a powerful gift. It was as though she knew everything about you the very first time she saw you. I think she was right just about all the time. Her name was Isabella, but everyone called her Izzy. Izzy didn’t like wise guys or smart alecks, and she had no time for the popular kids who thought they were too cool to say hello. I could never understand why anyone would waste an opportunity to make Izzy smile, especially when all they gained was a puffed-up sense of superiority.

  “Some people take pleasure in believing they are better than others,” my mother once told me.

  She was right. As for me I’d take Izzy’s happy grin over a lifetime of cool any day of the week. I was very glad to see her on this otherwise unusual day.

  “Hi, Izzy,” I said as I arrived at her register. “How are you today?”

  But she didn’t smile back.

  “Well, good afternoon, Miss Lily. I’m just fine, thank you.” She tilted her head and looked right through me. I felt like she was sizing me up, and it made me very uncomfortable. “But I should be asking you, how are you today?”

  I glanced around to see if she might be speaking to someone else.

  “I’m okay,” I said nervously.

  “Are you now? Because I hear you’ve been spending some time with the man in the office instead of in the classroom where you belong.”

  I was stunned. I leaned over my tray and whispered, “How do you know about that?”

  “News gets around, little one.” She took hold of my wrist as she handed me my change and said, “Be a good girl…understand? There ain’t nothin’ more important than your education!”

  Then she winked at me. But she still didn’t smile.

  “Yes, ma’am. Thank you.” I had a hollow feeling in my stomach as I walked in a daze toward the table where I’d sat with my friends for the past four years. But when I got there, there wasn’t a chair for me to sit in.

  “Where’s my seat?” I asked.

  Lisa Leiber glanced over her shoulder. “Oh, sorry, Lil. No room! I guess you’ll have to find another table.”

  Another table? What other table? There wasn’t another empty seat in the whole lunchroom, at least not with anyone I knew. I stood there for a long time as my friends shifted their seats and ignored me. Every eye seemed to glance at me and then quickly turn away as chairs were adjusted to ensure there wasn’t a place for me to fit in. I spotted a table in the back of the room with only three girls and a very skinny boy, so I walked over and gestured toward one of the empty chairs and asked, “Is anyone sitting here?”

  “Doesn’t look like it,” the girl with black wavy hair said to her sandwich.

  I put my tray down as far away from the others as possible. I pretended not to notice the people I was sitting with, although they all seemed to be staring at me. I unwrapped the flatware from the napkin and placed the napkin on my lap.

  A sizable portion of salad was about to enter my mouth when the black-haired girl asked, “Aren’t you the girl who got into so much trouble yesterday?”

  The fork froze in front of me. “Excuse me?” I asked, hoping I didn’t hear what I thought she just said.

  “I heard that one of the smart kids was sent to Rubello’s office for the whole afternoon. Was that you?”

  “Well,” I said, not wanting to lie, “I did go to Mr. Rubello’s office yesterday. Yes. I did.”

  “Wow. That’s amazing.”

  “Yeah,” said the skinny boy, “Amazing!”

  “I don’t know what’s so amazing about it. It wasn’t something I planned.” I knew I was being rude, but this whole incident was starting to get on my nerves. I took the bite of salad.

  “No,” said another girl with braces and an orange headband. “I totally get it. No one ever plans stuff like that.”

  The girl who hadn’t yet spoken snorted really loudly, which startled me, but as it turned out, that was just the way she laughed.

  “It’s just,” the braces girl said, “well, it’s just that smart kids never get into trouble, even when they do something wrong. Everybody looks the other way or makes excuses for them.”

  “Yeah,” said the black-haired girl. “And the cool kids get away with stuff all the time. Somebody’s gonna get blamed for what they did. It’s just not gonna be them.”

  “Yeah,” everyone else said in agreement.

  I looked down as I took a sip of water and then stuck the fork into the middle of my salad a couple of times before taking another bite.

  “So you must have done something really bad,” the braces girl decided.

  “Yeah,” added the skinny boy. “It must’ve been really bad.”

  I continued to eat without looking up, until the braces girl broke the silence and asked, “So what did you do?”

  I took a deep breath and held it. I almost didn’t answer. “I broke a rule,” I said solemnly.

  “No way!” the black-haired girl gasped, seemingly impressed.

  “On purpose?” the braces girl asked.

  I looked at her without saying a word. I was growing tired of defending myself over something so minor that was, after all, no one else’s business. In retrospect, not responding was probably the worst thing I could have done, as they immediately assumed that silence equaled guilt. A seed was planted that day that I would remember forever.

  CHAPTER 9

  A DISAPPOINTMENT TO EVERYONE

  “Hi, sunshine,” my mother called out cheerfully as I dragged my backpack off the bus. “Oh my heavens! What in the world is the matter?” she asked as she grabbed my burden and slung it over her shoulder.

  I shuffled silently down the road, frowning at the ground. Mother kept pace and never took her eyes from me, waiting, I suppose, for a response. “Okay,” she said before changing the subject. “But this is no way to start the weekend.”

  The weekend! Thank heavens! I wouldn’t have to go back to that horrible school for two whole days.

  “I was thinking,” she segued expertly, “that this might be the perfect time to take Spirit out on the lake. We haven’t had the boat out yet, and I’m sure he’s ready for it. In fact, I’ll bet he would have a blast. What do you think?”

  Spirit tugged on my shoestring for attention, which nearly made me fall.

  “Spirit!” I barked at the dog as I yanked my foot away from him. I was a bit rougher than I meant to be, which startled everyone.

  “Lily!” my mother scolded.

  She quickly picked Spirit up and cradled him in her arms to protect him from big, bad me. Her reaction seemed a little extreme, as though she was intentionally trying to make me feel guilty. Mission accomplished. I gave them both a sideward glance and then turned my attention back to myself.

  “Something happened at school today,” she guessed accurately. “Did Rubello give you a hard time? Because if he did…so help me—”

  “No!” I snapped back at her. “It was nothing like that. I didn’t even see him all day.”

  She waited for me to elaborate as we continued walking toward the cottage, but I kept my sights set straight ahead of me and locked my lips with a frown. The silence was killing her.

  “So…what was it then?”

  My blood was nearly at its boiling point when she held Spirit up like a ventriloquist’s dummy and said in a silly voice, “Please tell us what’s wrong, Lily. You’re making us very sad. You don’t want us to be sad, do you?”

  My mother had that long, sorrowful look on her face as she assumed the role of a talking dog. Spirit, on the other hand, didn
’t have a clue as to what was going on, and he bounced goofily along, with his tongue hanging out of his mouth. I tried not to laugh, but they looked so cute that I couldn’t help but soften.

  “Argh!” I growled, not knowing where to begin. “I don’t know what’s wrong. Nothing. Everything! The entire day was a disaster. For some reason, none of my friends would talk to me, and I had to sit with some really weird kids at lunch who just wanted to talk about the trouble I’d gotten into.” I kicked a stone that lay innocently in my path.

  “That’s the problem with small towns,” my mother muttered. “People get their noses in everyone else’s business.”

  “I mean…I don’t even know those kids,” I grumbled as she shook her head. “But what’s up with my friends? Why is everyone ignoring me? It’s like I have head lice or something. I mean…even Maddie gave me the cold shoulder. I might as well have been invisible.”

  “Maddie? Really? I’m surprised.”

  “I know! She even bolted off the bus this morning just so she wouldn’t have to walk with me to class.”

  “Hmmm. If I had to make a guess,” my mother said knowingly, “I would say that the news of you going to the principal’s office must’ve traveled quickly. When the parents got wind of it, they might have warned their kids not to be seen with you. At least until this all blows over. Smart kids never get into trouble, you know.”

  “That’s what the braces girl said.”

  “The who?” she asked curiously.

  “Nobody. Just one of the girls I had to have lunch with today. She said smart kids never get into trouble because people look the other way. And cool kids never get caught, but somebody always gets blamed for the stuff they do.” I stopped to think about that for a moment. “Do you think she was talking about them? Do you think that the cool kids set up the outcast kids to take the fall when they do something bad?”

  “I wouldn’t doubt it,” my mother replied.

  “That really stinks. I can’t believe I never knew that.”

  “Because you aren’t cool or outcast.”

  “Thanks…I think,” I said, not knowing how to take her comment.

  “I just meant that it shouldn’t be important to you.”

  “I really wish I noticed stuff like that,” I said, feeling genuinely sorry for the kids I had lunch with.

  “Why would you? You’re too busy learning, to pay attention to things that amount to absolutely nothing. Like who’s cool. And who’s outcast.”

  “No. I notice who’s cool. You can’t help it. They’re always in groups, and everyone pays so much attention to them because they have great hair and really nice clothes.”

  “Not exactly redeeming qualities.”

  “Yeah,” I said, kicking another stone. “I kind of wish I could hang out with them sometimes, though. It looks like fun.”

  “Lily, you’re only twelve years old. You’re smart, kind, funny, and much wiser than most of those kids will ever be. We can’t be measured by the clothes we wear or the people we hang out with. Please don’t worry about being anyone but the wonderful you that you already are. You have a lot to be grateful for. And I don’t ever want you to become one of those people who spends so much time thinking about what they don’t have that they forget to be thankful for all they do have.”

  Spirit barked as if he was in complete agreement, but I had a tough time being grateful for a really lousy day. I knew my mom would be disappointed in me if I didn’t let things go. So I took Spirit from her arms and said, “I’m very thankful for you, my wonderful Spirit!” There was anticipation all over my mother’s face as I nuzzled my nose in Spirit’s fur, then added, “I love you too, Mom.”

  “I’ll never grow tired of hearing it,” she said, wearing a full-on grin.

  We had an early dinner that night, then Mom and I took Spirit for a walk through the woods. Over the years we had carved out a path by clearing the twigs and brush until we made a perfect trail. It took us past the pond and through an open field that wound its way through the woods to a babbling brook. We searched for large, flat rocks near the stream one summer and placed them in the water as stepping stones to the woods on the other side. After passing over the brook, the path split in two. The path on the left circled back toward another field that led to the house, while the one to the right went to the lake.

  I was very apprehensive about taking Spirit toward the lake, even if he was on a leash. I didn’t want him to become too familiar with that part of the property, as it was protected only by evergreens and a split rail fence. It was the farthest point from the house, which was barely visible through the trees; and several signs served as warnings to potential trespassers. But the lake was a popular summer attraction, and the signs seemed to draw out-of-towners to the property rather than steer them away from it. The thought that Spirit might run under the fence was an ongoing concern, and the irrational fear that he could be stolen or, worse yet, hit by a car haunted me. I anticipated reaching the split in the path long before we got there, and I decided I would get us safely on the road home and avoid the lake for as long as possible. Spirit loved exploring, and after we found our way to the open field by the house, Mother thought it would be fun to see how he handled a little freedom and removed his leash.

  “What if we lose sight of him?” I protested. “He could get lost or something worse!”

  “He’s just a puppy, Lil. He can’t run that fast yet. We’ll keep a close eye on him. Look! He’s got the scent of something already.”

  Spirit rooted through the thick underbrush with his nose to the ground as he darted back and forth, then lifted his head to catch sight of where the smell had gone. He stood frozen for a moment and then put his nose to the ground again. Suddenly a rabbit leapt through the tall grass, with Spirit running right after him.

  “Spirit!” I yelled in a panic.

  “He’s fine,” my mother said, grabbing my arm to keep me from darting after him. “The rabbit will outrun him soon, and he’ll turn around. Just watch.”

  My heart was pounding. Sure enough, the rabbit took off across the field as Spirit stood perfectly still. He let out a few barks that were intended to be howls, then turned around to see where we were.

  “Spirit!” I yelled again as I clapped my hands maniacally to get his attention. “Come on, boy! Come on!”

  Spirit pranced toward us. He seemed quite full of himself, as if his mission had been to chase that rabbit off his field. My mother laughed, and I let out a loud sigh of relief.

  “See? I told you he’d come back. He’s a good dog.”

  We both praised and patted him as he sat panting happily between us.

  It was time to head back to the house, and even though there was still plenty of light outside, my thoughts were on climbing into bed. The past two days had been physically and emotionally draining, and I was struggling to keep my eyes open. Mom ran a nice, hot bubble bath, and I soaked for at least twenty minutes while she cleaned up the dishes, turned down the sheets, and brought in my pajamas along with a freshly laundered towel.

  “You’re going to turn into a prune.” She held out the towel and motioned for me to get out of the tub.

  “Ah, it feels so good! I don’t want to get out.”

  “Come on, kiddo. The water must be getting cold by now. If it’s not, it will be. And all the bubbles will be gone. Might as well jump into this nice, fluffy towel while it’s still a little warm. I just took it out of the dryer.”

  My ears perked up. I was a warm-towel kind of kid any time of the year. So, I stepped out of the tub and onto the thick, shaggy rug as bubbles ran down my belly and legs. Mom wrapped the towel around me, and I buried my face in it before drying off.

  “Mmm!” I said, taking another whiff of sheer cotton bliss. “It smells like lemongrass.”

  “Good nose,” she said, clearly impressed. “I just bought a new detergent this week and tried it for the first time today. I like the scent, but it’s a little expensive. I think we’ll
just use it on the linens.”

  “I could smell it all day,” I said, moving my nose to a not-yet-smelled spot.

  “Well, you’ll have to save some of the fragrance for later. Right now, you need to put on your pajamas and brush your teeth. We still have to get through that hair before you hit the hay, and your eyes are barely open.”

  I yawned and shook my head in agreement as I stole one last sniff before slipping into my pajamas. I climbed into bed, and Mother sat next to me and gently brushed the hair from my eyes.

  “Are you too tired to hear more of Mira’s story?” she asked.

  “The girl without a reflection? I thought about her today as we were walking through the woods,” I lied.

  “Did you really?” She seemed genuinely surprised and happy. “That’s when I thought about her too!”

  “Wow, what a coincidence!” I said, hoping my smile didn’t appear too fake.

  She clearly wanted to continue the story, but I wasn’t in the mood to hear about perfect little Mira and her perfect little life, which had everything mine didn’t: two parents, a grandmother, and entire towns that adored her. People always stopped by just to be with her family, while we never had visitors. Even my friends weren’t allowed to come over because it wasn’t our house, which was something else Mira had that I didn’t. Her own house. Her own house on her own hill, for heaven’s sake! It was starting to depress me.

  But I didn’t want to hurt my mother’s feelings, so I said, “I really want to hear more of the story, Mom. But not tonight, okay? I don’t think I can stay awake another minute. And that wouldn’t be fair to Mira.”

  She smiled as she tucked me in.

  “You’re very wise.” She turned off the light. “This has been a long week. And there’ll always be another day for the story. Right?”

  I nodded, but as things turned out…we were both wrong.

  CHAPTER 10

  THE PROBLEM WITH OTTERHOUNDS

  Mother had been up for hours by the time I stumbled downstairs for breakfast.