Abby's Magic Mirror
By DORIS ASCHEiUniverse, Inc.
Copyright © 2010 Doris Wedin
All right reserved.ISBN: 978-1-4502-7725-9Contents
Chapter 1 Looking Around.................................................1Chapter 2 Naps Are for Babies Only.......................................9Chapter 3 Blackout and the War...........................................12Chapter 4 The Way It Was.................................................20Chapter 5 More Glimpses Into the Forties and Fifties.....................30Chapter 6 Life and Leisure...............................................34Chapter 7 Grandpa's Shop.................................................42Chapter 8 The Handy Red Wagon............................................49Chapter 9 Lefty..........................................................52Chapter 10 Quarantines and Inkwells......................................56Chapter 11 School Days...................................................58Chapter 12 That Big Bicycle..............................................64Chapter 13 Super Mom.....................................................66Chapter 14 A Small, But Busy Yard........................................71Chapter 15 Family Vacations..............................................77Chapter 16 Kamp Kalmia...................................................83Chapter 17 New York City and Beyond......................................86Chapter 18 Olympic Park..................................................96Chapter 19 Television Arrives............................................102Chapter 20 Teen Years....................................................106
Chapter One
Looking Around
I'm Abby Benton. I have an incredible story to tell you. It starts with some cartoons my mom brought home from a yard sale (one of her favorite places to spend time). Mom called up to me in my room when she came home; she sounded so excited.
"Abby, come see this; I bought it especially for you." She went on, "I just knew you'd love having this pretty mirror in your room. There's not one chip in it, and at five dollars, it was practically a giveaway."
I hurried down to the kitchen and then stood overwhelmed at what I saw. Tiny embossed flowers edged the most exquisite circular mirror. For a minute, I was speechless. This mirror had certainly cost a fortune when it was new.
"Absolutely beautiful would be a better description than `pretty,' Mom."
"The older lady I bought it from is moving to a retirement apartment; she needs to sell so much from her big home."
I was thrilled. Mom had been right about me liking this treasure from the past. I gave Mom the biggest hug.
"Thanks, Mom! You're the best! How soon can Dad hang it in my room?"
"You'll have to ask him, honey; I'm not sure what he's busy with right now." She smiled at me and shook her head a little, clearly amazed that so little money could give so much pleasure.
I found my dad in the basement.
"Oh, Dad, can you possibly hang the mirror Mom bought for me today? Please, Dad, can you do it now? I'm so anxious to see how it looks."
Seeing my eagerness, Dad stopped what he was doing. "Okay, okay—let's do it!" He gathered the tools he needed to hang it and carried everything upstairs to my room.
He measured and hung the mirror above my dresser opposite the window. The mirror reflected the sunlight, making my room instantly brighter—and I could see everything outside in reverse.
"Thanks, Dad—you're an angel! I love you."
"It's beautiful," Dad said. "It adds something special to your room, Abby; I like it very much."
One day soon after, while I was daydreaming in front of my mirror after school, I began wondering about the original owner of this mirror and what life had been like when this beautiful, old mirror was new. Suddenly, I was seeing in this looking glass people and things that were not my reflections ... people and things that were totally unfamiliar ... people and things from a past era.
I said to myself, "Oh, my gosh—this is really strange."
I rubbed my eyes, but nothing changed. Apparently, I had been given a special window into the past; I had been pulled into it like a silent observer, seeing and sometimes hearing.
Strangely, I wasn't frightened. Instead, I felt a sense of excited curiosity. Who, when, and where was this? Surely, this was something that only happened to people in fiction books. It didn't happen in real life—did it? However, I couldn't deny what I was seeing at that moment. It would be monumental to describe everything I saw. Here are some snapshots as each briefly appeared.
The scene was the front of a modest, two-story, single-family house on a single lot in a suburban setting. It looked a bit drab and spooky. A bungalow was on the left, and a three-story house was on the right. The driveways of this house and the three-story house were separated by a row of hedges that ran the entire depth of the property, from the sidewalk back to behind the garages. A few mature maple shade trees grew in the hedge space. This house was definitely not new; none of the houses on the street were new. In a way, I felt like a junior detective using my observation skills, looking for clues to the who, when, and where.
I scanned the background, capturing as much as I could, and saw that the block was a mix of single and multiple-family homes of one, two, and three stories. The properties were all nicely manicured. Some lots were single-width, and others double-width, lining the street on both sides. Many of the homes had hedges at the sidewalks, rather than fences. Less than half of the properties had driveways. The few cars parked on the residential street were from another era. I saw everyone wearing wool winter coats, hats, and scarves. The styles were not today's styles. I saw a few girls sitting and talking on the steps of a house on the other side of the street.
"I think those people are moving into that house," I could hear one of the girls say to the others excitedly. "Let's go watch."
The trees lining both sides of the street were bare of their leaves. Traces of lingering snow, no longer sparkling white, remained on the hedges, the small front lawns, and on the small grass patches between the sidewalks and the curbs of this relatively quiet street.
People were getting out of a four-door sedan just parked in the driveway. The dad opened the car doors for the rest of the family. It looked like parents and two girls.
"Well, this is our new home," the dad announced.
They approached the front of the house expectantly. The parents appeared to be in their early thirties. The father was average in size, trim, and nice looking, while the mother was petite and pretty behind her eyeglasses. The two girls appeared to be around ages four and six, very close in size, each with brown hair. All were bundled up against the cold. Briefly the dad stopped. With hands on his hips, he looked disapprovingly at the ugly wooden storm door with its simple latch and diamond-shaped window. He shook his head and laughed.
"Evelyn, this door has got to go. It reminds me of an outhouse!" He added, "That two-hundred-dollar Christmas gift from Father will allow us to make so many improvements. We can do so much with his generous gift, Ev."
He unlocked the inner front door. Everyone shivered at the cold, stepping inside and curiously looking around. The sisters darted upstairs to each claim their bedrooms.
"I'm sure we can make this a wonderful home with a bit of work, Evelyn," her husband remarked.
"I'm sure we can, Jim," Evelyn agreed.
A moving truck pulled up to the curb. The girls across the street were pointing in this direction. The men spoke with the dad briefly and then started unloading the truck as some more curious neighborhood kids gathered to watch. The mom took notice, pausing a moment before seizing the perfect opportunity to introduce the girls to their new playmates.
"Jim, we'll only be a few minutes. Come, girls—let's go meet some of your new neighbors."
Evelyn led the girls back outside and introduced Nancy, the older sister, and Darla, the younger one.
"I'm Mrs. Allen. Mr. Allen is in the house. We'll be your new neighbors."
I now knew the names of this family.
In the group of onlookers were sisters Carole and Annabelle, who lived across the street, one door away. Sisters Terry, Bobbie, and Julie lived next to Carole and Annabelle. Walter and Mary lived across the street at the other end of the long block. Freddie and Pauline lived two doors away.
Each new playmate pointed to where he or she lived. This helped break the ice for the girls.
"We'll see you later," Nancy called after a minute. "C'mon, Mom and Darla. Let's see our new home."
Nancy was already heading back toward the house, with Evelyn and Darla following.
"Mommy, I think we're going to like it here," Darla told her. "We have girls to play with."
The sisters were eager to explore their new home for the first time. This family was moving in.
The vision faded.
I said to myself, "Wait! Don't go away! I want to know more."
I was so flabbergasted. I blinked several times and stood there thinking about what I had experienced. When I was finally able to pry myself away from the mirror, I ran downstairs and told Mom what I'd seen. I really hesitated to do so, knowing the outcome.
"Are you sure you're not just imagining things, Abby?"
"No, Mom, I'm telling you what I saw. Do you think the mirror is haunted?"
"No, honey, I doubt it."
Mom followed me back up to my room. She really liked how nice the mirror looked in my room.
"Are you sure you saw strange things in this mirror?"
"Yes, Mom, I did."
She stood there and peered into my mirror for the longest time. From her unchanging expression, I knew that my mom saw only her reflection. She shrugged my story off as overactive imagination, just as I had expected. She left the room.
These visions didn't occur daily, but often—especially after school. One day soon after the visions started, I told my closest friend, Gail, about my mirror and what I'd seen. She was curious to see for herself. When she came by, she saw what I was seeing.
"Gee, Abby, this sure is strange."
"Who are these people?"
"I don't know yet, but I hope it'll be revealed to me. Gail, let's keep this our secret for now, okay?"
"Sure, Abby," Gail agreed.
Shortly after, I saw another vision in my mirror. The girls were being told their grandmother was coming for a visit; they were watching for her taxi at the window.
"Mommy, Nana's coming now."
"We see the taxi."
Nana had a warm, friendly smile and a sweet voice. She was very attractive for her years, of medium height and very slender, with striking white hair in beautiful waves. She must have been a stunning blonde beauty in her youth. This was Evelyn's mother, I learned. As soon as she was inside, the sisters greeted her with hugs and kisses at the door.
"Mother, let me take your coat," Evelyn offered.
"Girls, I have some gifts for your new home."
The taxi driver carefully carried three large, heavy boxes into the living room and set them down. Their mom opened them up. Each contained a beautiful mirror for the bedrooms.
"Oh, Mother, they are beautiful," Evelyn remarked.
"I bought them at Mary Lutz's mirror and lamp shop."
After dinner, in his and his wife's room, Mr. Allen hung a large, elegant, rectangular mirror with classic beveled edges. In Nancy's room, he hung an oval mirror in a rich gold frame, and in Darla's room, he hung a circular one, edged in tiny, etched flowers.
My eyes popped wide open and my jaw dropped when I saw that Darla had my mirror—or should I say, I now had Darla's mirror. The who mystery was solved. The girls smothered Nana with more kisses, hugs, and thank-yous.
"I hope you like these," their grandmother said. "Mary had so many mirrors in her shop; I took my time choosing these especially for you."
Chapter Two
Naps Are for Babies Only
In my mirror, I saw the wonderful changes taking place in and around the house as time passed. Mr. and Mrs. Allen were making quite a difference. With a fresh coat of paint in all the rooms and pretty curtains on every window, the dreary house they moved into, which had been unoccupied for two years (according to Jim, the dad), was transformed into a homey and inviting place. Portions of the shiny, hardwood floors were covered with stylish area rugs. I saw that Darla's mom was skilled with the sewing machine. She sewed all the curtains, bedspreads, furniture covers, and clothes for herself and the girls, including school uniforms and winter coats. Her workplace was the home, where she kept contentedly busy.
I saw that the interior painting was finished during the colder weather. As the days warmed, Darla's dad painted the exterior of the two-story house, little by little, using a long extension ladder that reached to the top of the second floor. His extension ladder was also used as he exchanged the latched storm windows that hung from hooks above the window frames on the outside for winter warmth with screens each spring. The storm windows were reattached each fall when the screens were removed.
It was easy to perceive that Darla had a quick mind and great curiosity as she followed all of her mom's and dad's activities around the house, inside and outside. She asked questions continually about what they are doing and why—always why. She was especially interested in the sewing machine.
"Mommy, can I sew?"
"Darla, this is the one thing I ask you not to touch. When you're ten years old, I'll teach you. You'll just need to wait until then."
This little girl spent a lot of time watching her mom sewing, asking more and more questions about the tools she used, their names, and what they were used for.
One afternoon, I saw that the exterior painting was just about finished. Jim was adding some touch-up paint on the second-floor window trim, with Darla watching close by. A small ledge on the outside of the house visually separated the first and second floors. Jim was able to rest his one foot on this narrow ledge and brace himself with the other leg against the inside wall just below the window to complete the job without using his extension ladder. Judging from Darla's upraised eyebrows, this looked interesting to the inquisitive little girl, but she said nothing.
The next day, I saw that Darla had been put in her bedroom for an afternoon nap. Obviously, she was not tired. She decided to try doing what she had seen her dad do, climbing out the second-floor window that faced the backyard and putting her feet on the ledge.
Suddenly she discovered that she was in big trouble, since her little legs were not the same length as her dad's. She hung onto the windowsill for dear life, crying hysterically.
"Mommy, Mommy, help me! Help me now!"
Downstairs, her mom abruptly stopped ironing and listened to where the cries were coming from, hearing the desperation in Darla's voice. She cocked her head, clearly confused that the cries of her daughter, who was supposed to be in her bedroom upstairs, sounded as if they were coming from outside. She quickly looked out every window on the first floor and then darted upstairs to Darla's room, where she found Darla clinging to the windowsill. A spanking and then a hug from her mom followed Darla's rescue. Darla was reprimanded to never try that again.
"Honey, you could've broken your legs—or worse."
"I just wanted to do what Daddy did yesterday."
"Your legs aren't as long as Daddy's; that's what got you into trouble."
Her mom gave her another long hug and told her how much she loved her. She held and rocked Darla until the child's sobbing calmed.
Another day, when Nancy was home, I saw each sister in her own room for an afternoon nap, but not sleepy.
"Nancy, are you sleepy?" Darla asked softly.
"No."
"Let's go in Mommy's room."
It appeared Darla was usually the instigator. They left Nancy's room and quietly went into their parents' room. They investigated something else they had seen their dad doing: polishing shoes. Everyone wore leather shoes that needed to be polished with shoe wax and shined weekly. The girls found black, brown, and burgundy waxes in their dad's shoe shine box, with some pieces of cloth and brushes, in the bottom of their parents' closet.
"Hey, Nancy, we can make pretty pictures on the walls with this wax."
They decided to finger paint their parents' bedroom walls, periodically wiping their hands on their dresses. Their mom came from the backyard, where she was gardening. Hearing all the giggling, she came upstairs and discovered the horrible mess. She was furious.
Needless to say, the girls apologized with "We're sorry, Mommy."
I saw that it took Mr. Allen four coats of paint to cover their artwork. In a few following adventures, they got into their mom's face powder, perfume, curlers, and yarns. Finally, their mom realized it was time to give up the nap scene.
Chapter Three
Blackout and the War
In my mirror, I witnessed something I didn't understand until I described it to my grandma. Grandma didn't question the visions I described to her. She was so sweet; she just gave me answers. I had so many questions for her.
"Abby, let me tell you, during World War II, in cities along the East and West coasts, the government ordered air-raid drills called blackouts.
"All electric lights were ordered turned off, and room-darkening shades lowered when signaled by pole-mounted sirens throughout neighborhoods.
"The shades remained that way until the next siren signal sounded.
"The purpose was to enable the government to totally blacken the entire coastlines. If and when there might be warning of an air attack by Germany or Japan, the cities would not be distinguishable without lights.
"Abby," she continued, "I suggest you borrow some books from the library to learn more about this time frame. I think you'll find it very interesting."
(Continues...)
Excerpted from Abby's Magic Mirrorby DORIS ASCHE Copyright © 2010 by Doris Wedin. Excerpted by permission of iUniverse, Inc.. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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