Broken Mirror

Chapter Four: A Raven, Superstitions, and the Gangster

I had just left Maggie with complete strangers in Small Heath, Birmingham. I wondered if I was being completely foolish.

"Anthony's mother seemed to be a nice woman," I thought as I walked down the dirty streets looking to kill time.

I knew if Maggie had her way she would stay at Anthony's house for ages and would probably eventually drive his parents up the walls. I had told her she had an hour and a half. After the time was up we needed to find Momma and head home.

I realized I hadn't been paying much attention to where I was walking and suddenly glancing up I saw I was on a different street. I guess I didn't notice this at first because all of the houses in the area looked completely the same: dark and dreary.

I rationalized with myself, I hadn't been walking for very long and was probably only a street over from where Maggie was by now running throughout Anthony's house. I sighed, it hadn't taken Maggie long at all to find a new friend here, even in this neighborhood, and I still hadn't made a single, new friend myself. Just an enemy out of our neighbor.

I looked across the street and saw a sight which casted me out of my thoughts. There was a mysterious man leaning up against the grimy, brick wall of one of the row houses. He was smoking a cigar and reading the morning newspaper. He was dressed well and flashy; he obviously was not from this area. He kept every once and awhile casting glances towards me.

I grew unsettled at the sight of him and decided to leave the area when I felt someone tapping my shoulder causing me to jump.

"I'm sorry love, I didn't mean to frighten you," a soft voice behind me cooed causing me to turn around.

There was an elderly woman standing slightly leaned over on the handle of a broom. She had warm features, dark eyes, and was wearing a pleasant smile. Her gray colored hair was peaking its way out from underneath a scarf draped over her head.

"I'm sorry," I replied sheepishly as she wasn't a frightening figure at all and now I felt foolish, "You just scared me."

Suddenly I heard the noise of a bird crying from behind me and turned around on instinct to see a large, black bird perched on the roof of the row houses in front of me.

"A raven," the old woman commented and I turned to face her once more, "They're usually a sign that something terrible is about to happen."

I just stared back a little scared of her now.

"Don't worry," she reassured me, "It's only a superstition my mother always told me about and one only needs to worry if one believes in that sort of thing."

I didn't believe in any superstitions at all and smiled back at her not feeling worried anymore.

She smiled at me.

"You shouldn't be out here alone, love, especially since you look like you're not from around here," she noted looking at my dress and shoes, "Come inside and I'll make you some tea." She motioned me to a door behind her.

I glanced up at the building which was a small store crowded between another store on the right and more row houses on the left. There was a faded, wooden sign above the shop's door reading,

Apothecary

I pondered at the strange word as I followed the woman inside the store.

"Apothecary," I reread the word in my mind over and over again. I had seen the word used before in writing; I had come across it in Shakespeare multiple times, but I didn't think anyone still used it; it seemed outdated do me.

The inside of the little shop was cramped and dimly lit by a small fire roaring in a fireplace in one corner. Another corner had a three-legged stool upon which many books were stacked in an unsteady and sloppy arrangement. The whole area smelled damp, dusty, and like moth balls. The walls were covered by shelves reaching all the way to the ceiling; little, glass bottles containing strangely colored liquids filled each shelf.