Mirror Me

26: The Drawings in Laura's Room- MAGGIE

Grandmother Maggie rocked silently in her rocking chair as a million and one troubles surged in her thoughts. Her braided hair swung behind her and her cat slippers lifted and fell with each gentle rock of the chair. Upon her lap lay her precious hand mirror. Her boney fingers clutched the pink handle like a mother would clutch the hand of her new born baby, softly and lovingly. Reflecting in her large round glasses, a television program played. The volume was low so her granddaughter could sleep. While it was late, Grandmother Maggie did not feel tired. Her daughter, Barbara, worked late on Saturdays so she welcomed herself to whatever pleased her as long as Laura was in bed by nine. Tonight though, something troubled her. A twinge of fear shook in her old bones, the same feeling she had the night Alonso, her son-in-law, died. Unaware that someone had sneaked up behind her, Maggie jolted upward when she felt a hand touch her shoulder.

"Madre de dios!" she screamed. Little Laura dropped her hand down. "Oh, niña, you frightened me."

"I'm sorry, Abuelita," said Laura rubbing her eyes. "I can't sleep."

"Whatever is the matter?" said Maggie reaching down.

"I had a bad dream. It scared me."

Maggie rubbed her wrinkled fingers over Laura's soft hand.

"Don't worry, dreams can't hurt you. Now come on, little one. I'll get you a glass of warm milk and then off to bed." Maggie went to the kitchen and poured Laura a cup of milk which she heated in the microwave. Laura took the cup of milk by the handle and slowly both of them walked to Laura's bedroom.

Laura loved her room. It was just her size and cozy too. A twin bed stuffed itself into the corner and beside it situated a short white nightstand with a lamp on it. A big blue butterfly that she had made at school out of paper was pinned to the lampshade. On the floor were scattered an assortment of art supplies ranging from crayons, to pencils, to markers. Laura had a small bookshelf devoted to her favorite stories and a child-sized desk pushed against the wall. The thing that made Laura's room the most decorated room in the apartment was the walls and walls of drawings she had done. The fridge had filled up long ago, so her room became her new art gallery.

Maggie led her granddaughter to the bed, tucked her underneath the covers and handed her the glass of milk.

"Would you like me to read you a story?" asked Maggie smiling.

"Yes, please!" said Laura ecstatically. Maggie laughed.

"Cálmate. No te pongas tan entusiasmado. You still need to sleep." Maggie reached for a book Laura had resting on the nightstand. "Have you been reading this?"

"Yeah, our teacher read the first one to us in class. I liked it so much she let me borrow the second."

"Hmm," Maggie ran her hand across the book's cover. "Alice's Adventures in Wonderland and Through the Looking Glass, by Lewis Carroll. A bit advanced for a seventh grader don't you think?"

"No, Mrs. Bates said she read it when she was a kid. It had some big words but she explained them when we were confused."

"So should I start on the second book?"

"Yes," said Laura.

"Remember, I do have trouble with English sometimes. You may have to help me."

"Of course," said Laura snuggling close to her grandmother as she sat on the bed. Maggie cleared her throat, adjusted her glasses, and began to read. About ten minutes in, Maggie reached a part in the story where Alice was touching the looking-glass and talking to her cat. "'Oh, Kitty! How nice it would be if we could only get through into Looking-glass House... Let's pretend there's a way of getting through into it, somehow, Kitty. Let's pretend the glass has got all soft like gauze, so that we can get through...It'll be easy enough...'" Maggie stopped reading. She removed her glasses and stared at Laura. "You have been thinking about Hope, haven't you?" Laura nodded.

"Is that where she has gone? Through the looking-glass?" Maggie breathed deeply.

"There is something special you should know about our family. Your mother does not want to believe it anymore, but if she wants to get her daughter back she must learn to accept it." Maggie paused and pulled out the hand mirror she had kept so close to her. "Some time long ago our family learned how to travel across the imagination. We learned how to move beyond the looking-glass to a place of magic and wonder."

"Like Wonderland?" asked Laura excitedly.

"Sí," said Maggie nodding her head. "This is a world both alike and unlike our own. I told Hope about it long ago. Now I'm telling you."

"Tartarus," whispered Laura. "I heard you whisper it when I showed you my picture."

"Yes," said Maggie. "You see imagination has to come from somewhere. That place is known as Tartarus."

"Have you been there?"

"No," said Maggie placing the book back on the nightstand. "I can not ever go, and I pray you will never have to either. Sure it is a wonderful place, but a terrifying monster lives there and he wants to come out."

"What kind of monster?"

"The kind you never want to meet."

"I'm strong! I'm brave! I'll save Hope!"

"And I'm sure you are, but it is not our place. You have a very special gift, Laura. You see the world differently than most people."

"I can see the future."

"Now, mija," said Maggie, "you mustn't let it fool you. Dreams are not reality."

"No," said Laura concerned. "This is different. My drawing. My dream. I know it's real. Hope's in danger. We have to warn her." Laura jumped out of bed and grabbed one of her drawings off the wall. "Look!"

The drawing showed Hope fast asleep in a triangular tent next to two other tents. She appeared to be surrounded by a forest of pine with a boy tending a campfire. The trees were tall and thick with branches, but above the tents descending from the black starry sky were many dark and dreadful shadows.