Snow White's Mirror

by Shonna Slayton

  “Fremont? Oh sure, I know the guy you’re talking about. I blame him for what happened to Winn. Final nail in his coffin, if you pardon my expression. Was a good tipper when he was drunk, so Winn made sure to treat him nice. Sorry for being so blunt. I know it ain’t good manners to talk about such things in the presence of a lady.” Darren shuffled his feet as if trying to figure out a way to backtrack.

  “My uncle’s a serial gambler. I’m not completely unaware of what goes on in a saloon.”

  “Hope it works out better with Winn.”

  “He’s trying to get back. Be there for him, will you?”

  At least if Billie had to leave before the business with the mirror was settled, she knew Winn would have someone besides Lou willing to stand by him.

  “Sure. Tell him to find me if he needs help, then, okay?” Darren nodded, then excused himself.

  He’d confirmed Billie’s gut feeling about Winn, so she was glad she’d come to the ball. He’d also confirmed that this cousin Fremont was bad news.

  Chapter 32

  A twenty-one-gun salute shook the town awake the next morning.

  Billie slung the pillow over her head until the noise ended. Was there ever such a thing as too much patriotism? Happy Fourth of July.

  The grand ball had been a decent affair. After her brief conversation with Winn’s friend, she’d finally been able to introduce herself to Mrs. Brodie, but to what affect, who knew? The poor woman had met half of southern Arizona that day and would be hard-pressed to remember any of them. The Mrs. G. B. Wilcoxes and Mrs. G.J. McGabes of the world kept her busy.

  Matron had arrived shortly before Billie left, and Billie witnessed the cool looks the ladies from the Bisbee Women’s Club gave her when she wound her way through them to meet Mrs. Brodie. The longer Billie stayed in Bisbee, the more untold stories she noticed. What did those women have against Matron?

  For Billie, much like the governor’s wife, the rest of the night was filled with strangers. And even though she’d danced her fair share with amiable young men, the person she wanted to dance with wasn’t there. She’d asked all her dance partners if they’d known her cousin Fremont, but aside from Darren, none of them had.

  Billie swung her feet out of bed next to her clothes puddled on the floor where she’d left them. She regretted her carelessness with them now, but last night all she wanted to do was crawl into bed. Had she been home in Boston she would have also raided the kitchen for cake or other comfort food before retiring.

  She had ended the night long before the last dance, following a group of older folks who wanted to beat the rush out. The evening had clarified all that hung in the balance if she and Lou couldn’t figure out a way to rescue Winn. A life without Winn was a life with a hole in it. Trapped in the mirror at night meant he would have no shows, no dances, no romantic walks under the stars holding a girl’s hand. Life was too precious to miss out on even the small things.

  With these thoughts, she went outside to wait for Winn on the hotel steps. As she arranged her skirt around her legs, she realized she’d never truly appreciated black crepe before, always associating it with sad old women. Funny, it was almost time to switch to half mourning when she was finally accepting deep mourning. Maybe that was how it was supposed to work. A gradual moving-on process.

  In her melancholy mood she thought she’d have to force a smile when she saw Winn, but when his familiar hat and broad shoulders came strutting up the street, her smile was automatic. She couldn’t not smile at the sight of him even if she tried.

  “Met a fellow last night who said he was an old chum of yours.”

  “Oh, yeah? Who?”

  “Darren. He says he blames Fremont for what happened to you.”

  “Yeah, Darren’s a good guy, but I can’t blame anyone but myself. Before getting trapped in the mirror I faulted everyone else for my mistakes. I’ve had enough time to realize that I was my own undoing. I was the one who made all the bad decisions that led me to the mirror. No matter what role Fremont may or may not have played in all this, it still falls on my shoulders for what I did.”

  How could Billie argue with that? “I’m sorry. Seems the night was a waste. Darren was the only one who knew of Fremont, and he doesn’t know what’s happened to him. We’re not any further along than yesterday.”

  “I’m going to quit,” he said, his face blank.

  “No! Don’t give up now. I’m sure we’ll come up with a solution soon.”

  “I’m going to quit my job. What’s the point of pretending I can have any kind of a normal life? All I could think about last night was you all dressed up and at that ball without me. All the fellas you’d be dancing with. Them with their hands—not mine—around your waist.”

  “Really?” Billie’s stomach fluttered.

  He smiled, looking down. “And if my life is going to be cut in half, why waste it working for Matron? She can find some other patsy.” He spit at the side of the road.

  “Indeed,” Billie said, imitating Matron’s mannerisms. But despite her growing fondness for Matron, she was thrilled Winn wasn’t going to be a Faro dealer anymore. It never did make sense to her why he still worked in such a place. “Let’s make every moment count, then. Shall we go see the special attractions above the floodgate?”

  “You don’t seem the type,” he said.

  “What do you mean? I love wild men. The advertisements said he was one of the cannibals who killed Dr. Livingstone. If you believe everything you read.”

  “Considering Livingstone died of dysentery, I’m already underwhelmed. Besides, I thought you’d be more interested in the snake eater. He bites their heads off in front of you.”

  Billie wrinkled her nose. She had her limits. “Maybe we could just get ice cream.”

  Winn laughed. “Let me talk to the manager, then we’ll spend the day together.”

  “Great. I’ll save us a place for the parade out front of the City Bakery.”

  The streets began filling up with parade watchers, and Billie kept her elbows out, making space for Winn. But when a brass band made its way down the street followed by soldiers celebrating the end of the Philippine-American War, he still hadn’t shown up. There were floats and children and handsome horses with colored ribbons braided into their hair. The mayor and the governor rode by, but still no Winn.

  She wound through the crowds to the Poisoned Apple and tried to see in the windows but couldn’t make out a thing. She cracked open the door to see if they’d tied him to a Faro table. Already the room was full of patrons. So many men it was hard to find anyone. One man noticed her and smiled such a grisly smile at her, she jumped back, content to wait on the street.

  She was about to give up and go back to the hotel when a flood of men poured out the door. They marched as one down the street, taking bets as they walked. What in the world?

  Finally, Winn came outside. “Did I miss the parade?”

  “All of it.” She examined Winn’s face for signs of why he was late. “Everything okay?”

  “Lars tried to talk me into staying, but we both know he can easily replace me. He just might not get someone so honest.” Winn chuckled. “I didn’t have the heart to tell him how dishonest I started out.”

  “Are you glad you quit?” Billie couldn’t tell.

  “Yes. The saloon by day and the mirror at night wasn’t giving me much of a life.”

  “I’m glad, too.” She didn’t know how glad until that moment. It would be a lot easier to introduce her mother to a boy trapped in a mirror than a boy who dealt Faro. “Now, where were all those men off to in such a hurry?”

  “Drilling contest,” Winn said. “Have you ever seen one?”

  “No. The way the miners press in, there’s never a place for a lady to watch.”

  “I know where we can go. You can’t live your life and not have seen a drilling contest.”

  He looped her hand onto his arm, and together they wove in and out of the spectators until Winn led her th
rough the door of Lacey’s salon.

  “Well, hello there Winn,” one of the young beauticians called out. “Come for a manicure?”

  “No thanks, Florence. Is it okay if we go on up? The drilling contest is about to begin.”

  “Anything you want, sweetie.”

  Billie opened her eyes wide at Winn, asking for an explanation.

  “What? We both work for Matron, at least, we used to.” He led her up a narrow set of wooden stairs, up to a second-floor balcony. Winn put his hand on the small of her back to propel her to a better position overlooking the contest.

  Meanwhile, others in the beauty salon took note of Winn’s plan and followed them up, pressing the two of them into the railing. Billie leaned back into Winn’s solid chest with her pulse racing. Happy Fourth of July.

  In front of the library, a large crowd had gathered around the granite block which was secured with wood scaffolding. It appeared the entire town had come out to watch, filling the plaza and flowing up the hillside.

  “That there is thirty thousand pounds of Gunnison granite brought in for the contest,” Winn said.

  “I thought you weren’t much into mining?” Billie tipped her head back to talk to him, turning her mouth inches from his.

  “I like rocks. And I enjoy mining as a spectator sport.” He looked down at her and grinned.

  She grinned foolishly back. Who cared about a drilling contest when there was a boy who made her heart flutter standing so close? One who, despite being trapped in such weird circumstances, continued to go out of his way to make her feel special.

  He broke her gaze and looked back at the contest. “They’re starting.”

  She reluctantly turned around but leaned back into him. The double drilling contest was a race between pairs of men to see who could drill the deepest in a given amount of time. One man held a drill bit, the other a mallet. The one with the hammer swung with everything in him while the man holding the bit would turn it after each strike. It was loud and exciting with the crowd cheering them on until the whistle blew, and then it was dead silence while the holes were measured.

  Winn pointed out the Tarr brothers waiting for their turn. Uncle Dale stood behind them within an arm’s reach. They were the local favorites and the team Uncle wanted to hire to help with his claim. Wasted time and money, but Billie couldn’t tell him so without revealing she knew where the mirror was, and that it had trapped the boy she was falling head over heels for.

  Winn shifted, putting his arms around her to touch the railing, encasing her in his arms as he leaned over her shoulder for a better view. The team that just finished had come all the way from Canada. Strong mountain men from the mining town of Rossland, British Columbia.

  “The team of McNichols and Ross set a new world’s record,” the judge said before his voice was swallowed up by the roar of the crowd.

  “It’s going to be hard for the Tarr brothers to win, now,” Winn said in her ear. “Told you it was worth watching.”

  Billie nodded. She agreed, but for different reasons. As she nestled in his arms, she wondered if there could be a more perfect boy in all the world. They just needed to figure out a way to free him from the mirror.

  After the final team failed to beat the new record, the crowd began to disperse and Billie reluctantly followed Winn back down to street level. She already missed the secure feeling of Winn against her back. There had to be a way to get him out of that mirror for good.

  “I’ve got something for you,” he said. “Follow me.”

  Chapter 33

  Winn led her through the crowd and down the street until they were in front of the assayer’s office.

  “Where we first met,” Winn said. “Now, close your eyes and put out your hand.”

  She did, and he placed something cool onto her palm.

  “This is the main reason I was late to the parade,” he said, “I had to pick up your surprise without you knowing about it.”

  She opened her eyes to find a gorgeous turquoise cabochon attached to a plain silver chain. The stone was the deep sky-blue she’d seen before, in Lou’s mine, but this particular one was half blue, half chocolate brown swirled in.

  “I made it for you,” he said, grinning. “Lars at the Apple has a grinder he lets me use. Do you like it?”

  Like it? “It’s amazing.” The stone was a bit wild, somewhat unpolished, like Winn himself.

  “The turquoise is unique to the Mule Mountains. They find all kinds of it in the mines around here, but they don’t want it, so they dump it. I rescued some rocks and tried my hand at cutting stone. The color is called Bisbee Blue, since you can only get it here. Something to remind you of the town when you’re back in Boston.”

  Billie touched his hand. “It’ll remind me of you, not the town.” She held up the necklace and asked him to fasten it around her neck.

  He spun her around, and after he’d adjusted the clasp, rested his hands on her shoulders. He whispered in her ear. “Philopena.”

  Her breath caught, and she pulled away to look at him. “Winn! I don’t believe you. I’m usually so careful.” Something undervalued, overlooked, yet precious. He’d tricked her into accepting his philopena gift.

  He won using the German version of the game, and she was never gladder to lose a game of wits.

  She fingered the turquoise pendant, marveling at the beauty of the stone. “I’d forgotten all about our game. No fair. You were in a magic mirror. How was I to remember a game of wits when dealing with that?”

  “You’re probably the only girl in the world who could find me stuck in that mirror and still want to be friends.”

  She raised her eyebrows. “It was a shock.” A shock lessened by the stories she’d been told growing up and of Uncle’s quest to find such a mirror. Imagine if she’d come in blind to the realization that such a thing existed? Could give a person a fainting spell, if not a heart attack.

  He leaned against the assayer’s wall. “You wouldn’t have liked the person I was before I got trapped in there.”

  She started to protest but knew that what he was saying was true. She would never have gotten to know his full story based on first blush. She was glad circumstances made her stop and take a closer look at Winn.

  “How did you start dealing Faro?”

  “My dad knows Lars. He’s from Norway, came over with the same recruiter my dad did. One of his dealers was sick one day, and I talked them into letting me deal. I’ve always liked playing with cards; I know some tricks. They liked my style because it drew a crowd. It was the best night the Matron had ever had, so she kept me on the payroll.”

  “What about the future? If you weren’t stuck in the mirror, and you could do anything, be anything, what would it be?”

  He looked away, studying the mishmash of houses clambering up the hill. “You’d laugh.”

  “I wouldn’t.”

  “Have you heard of the City Beautiful Movement? Warren Manning?”

  She shook her head.

  “It’s about creating beautiful spaces for people to live in. No more tenements one after the other, cramming people in. But planning for parks and landscapes in the city.”

  “Why would I laugh at that? Sounds wonderful to me.”

  He shrugged and then pulled a weed that had grown through a gap in the boardwalk. “Yeah, well, it’s not mining or smelting. That’s what matters around here.” He started breaking the weed into pieces. “I thought you might have heard of Warren Manning since he’s from Boston, and he studied under Olmsted, the man who designed Central Park in New York, not to mention several places in Boston. You must have seen their work.”

  “No wonder you were so interested in Boston. One of them probably created the Emerald Necklace, a chain of parks. I always liked that name.” If only Winn could go home with her to see it all.

  She gasped and grabbed his arm. “Has Lou ever tried to move the mirror? We could move you to Boston.” Why didn’t she think of this before? It didn’t get
him out of the mirror, but it brought the mirror to her mother.

  His forehead wrinkled as he thought. “No, can’t say we tried that. But I don’t see how it would help me. Pretty soon I’ll be stuck for good anyway.” He shook his head. “No, I couldn’t risk it.”

  “What if you could apprentice with Mr. Manning?” She smiled sweetly, trying to think of ways to talk him into it.

  “Maybe he would take me. As a landscape architect, he thinks we should use plants that are natural to a place. He says he takes out what doesn’t belong, fixes up what’s there, and makes it all nice to look at. I like that idea.”

  Billie noted the twisted walkways, the vertical stairs, the smeared dirt paths that connected one wooden building to the next. “This town looks like it sprouted out of the ground. Everyone was focused on getting a roof over their heads, not knowing how long the mine will hold.”

  “Exactly, but the mine’s been proven. Buildings are turning to brick and becoming permanent. Cities need someone to see the big picture and help people work together to make the place look good. You don’t think that’s a waste of time?”

  “There’s nothing wrong with being beautiful.” Billie said.

  “Every time I step out of that mirror, I appreciate how beautifully created our world is. Let me show you.” He led her off the low boardwalk to an open area still covered with desert plants. “Take the prickly pear for example.” He pointed at a cactus with flat pads. “It’s the party cactus. You should see when it flowers. It produces a violet-purplish fruit that makes the plant look like it’s decorated for Christmas. And you can eat it. The pads and the fruit.”

  Winn’s face came alive as he talked about the land he loved. Could he love Boston as much?

  He caught her staring. “What? Too much?”

  “No. I like learning about this side of you. I would never have guessed; you keep it close.”

  He shrugged. “Sometimes an idea needs time to sprout, and if you talk about it too soon, well, someone is bound to talk you out of it.”