Doppelganger: Anamorphosis

The Prologue.

Oh, Kitty! How great it would be if we could get into the Looking Glass House! I'm sure it has such beautiful things in it!

Let's pretend we could get into it somehow, Kitty. Let's pretend the glass is as soft as gauze and we can get through it.

"Through the looking glass" Lewis Carroll

Judy was seven when she first wandered into this wonderful place. Here the river curved around, its silvery body hugging a small island of shrubbery and young trees.

The girl crossed the water on the planks thrown by someone and found that she was not the first to notice this secluded corner.

Leaning back against the trunk of a weeping willow tree, a young man was sitting on a spread jacket and reading a book. With one hand he thoughtfully rubbed the tattered spine of the cover, with the other he tossed a green apple into the air. He tossed and caught it without looking. Into the palm of his hand.

Judy stared. She found the stranger handsome. There was something about him that held her gaze, a kind of steel, a deep concentration.

She had never been able to give herself so devotedly to an activity, and she was fidgety and unsteady.

The girl moved through the bushes, getting closer, and unintentionally disclosed her presence. Under the toe of the sneaker treacherously crunched branch. The young man immediately broke away from his book, got up and stared at the uninvited guest.

The midday sun filled his brown eyes honey and gold.

- Hey, - he called out to her, - what are you doing here?

Judy tensed. She knew that teenagers were often angry and testy. And the guy was much older than she was. She didn't want to hear a lecture. Hearing that she, a silly little girl, had no business wandering around alone.

She was the first to attack.

- I forgot what I needed, - she said arrogantly, her nose puffed up.

Her bluster amused the boy, and he smiled warmly, but he felt obliged to say something:

- You could have fallen into the river, that's what.

- But I didn't, - Judy insisted.

- You'd better play somewhere else, - he continued.

- No, I don't, - she insisted, - I'll play wherever I want.

Her stubbornness was a crushing blow to her composure. He did not seem a little angry. He stopped smiling and spoke angrily:

- You know what, baby? This is my island, I've been coming here for a long time and I don't want anyone to disturb me. You have no business running around and making noise.

That's how it is! - Judy was indignant. She didn't have the nerve to say it out loud, but she mumbled to herself, "This is my island." Why should he? On what grounds did he proclaim himself the owner of a stupid island? He should have put up a sign on the shore, for that matter.

No, that's not gonna work on her. She was small, but she knew how to show her teeth. She'd had to learn the art a long time ago.

While Judy was thinking of something nasty to say in response, the boy spoke again.

- Where are your parents? - He asked, frowning, - Who are they, by the way? I haven't seen you before.

The girl was embarrassed. She looked down to her shoes and shoved the unfortunate branch away in disgust. The stranger may not have meant to offend her, but he had unintentionally hurt her. Judy had so far found it difficult to talk about the subject.

- My mom is Sandy Davis, - she said.

- Sandy Davis? - repeated the young man, puzzled, - but she doesn't have de...

He hesitated, mumbled something under his breath, and slapped his forehead annoyingly.

- Shit, I'm sorry, - he said quickly, threw the book back on the grass and rose to his feet, - of course! You're, uh... Jane? Jill?

- Judith, - the girl prompted.

Sandy had warned her that in their small town news traveled at the speed of light because everyone knew everyone else. It was something she had yet to get used to. It would take time for the neighbors to stop staring at her like she was an alien. Or to look at her with pity - like that boy was looking at her right now. Judy hated it. The condescending looks made her want to fall under the ground. But so did the boy, judging by the way he was embarrassed by his gaffe.

A small consolation.

- I've met you, - he said with a sad chuckle, - I'm such a fool, God. I'm sorry again. I'm Ethan, by the way. Ethan Walker. From the house by the river, - he nodded uncertainly toward the shore. The movement made his long hair fluff up, and strands of it came into his eyes. He began to nervously tuck them behind his ears.

The girl relaxed a little - she realized which house she was talking about. Majestic, white and graceful, it had long ago caught her attention. She was terribly curious who could live in such a luxurious mansion, more like a palace from a fairy tale.

- Take it, - he came closer and handed Judy an apple,- I don't want you to think I'm some kind of evil man who likes to hurt little girls.

He might not have added that last one, Judith thought, but she didn't resent it. She had a temper, but usually bounced back easily. She appreciated the conciliatory gesture with the apple, so she reached out to take the offered treat. What he said next finally melted her heart and made her forget all resentment.

- Come with Mrs. Davis to our house for tea. Lorna would be delighted.

"Lorna," not "mother," Judy noted. It struck her as odd and suspicious. But she was not to meddle in other people's affairs, nor did she care to think about it. The white house by the river was all she could think about. And the prospect of getting into the house.

- Thank you, - Judy said timidly.

And so their friendship began.

For ten years the river had cradled her, embraced her like a small island, until it had turned into a sea of tears.