The Girl in the Mirror

"Don't get me started on the night she and Tess tried to toilet paper Rhonda Beckett's car at the 'Golf and Fun,'" threw out Frank.

"'Golf and Fun.' That brings back memories. If I had a dime for every night we spent at that place," said Billy.

"Except nobody ever called it 'Golf and Fun,' it was always 'The Castle,' back in those days."

Tess nodded at Joe.

"It's still called that today by the kids since that's exactly what it looks like."

"Wait! Golf and Fun is still a thing?"

"Yep. I think it's changed owners and names a half-dozen times, but it still exists. I even take my kids miniature golfing there every once in a while."

"Guys! We have to go. For old times sake," said Frank excitedly.

"Um...I don't know if that is a good idea," commented Joe while looking at Marta. It seemed to him a bit insensitive to be going on a nostalgic miniature golfing trip the night before her mother's funeral.

"Oh, don't mind me. I love a good game of miniature golf," said Marta calmly, around a bite of her sesame chicken.

"Then it's decided," crowed Frank sitting back in his chair.

Joe picked up the tab for dinner over the protests of his friends, and in no time he was back in the car with Marta trying to keep his attention focused out the window this time. He spotted the bright lights of the mixed entertainment center his friends had always called, "The Castle," long before the exit off of the freeway came up. The place did look nothing more than like a faux-medieval castle complete with turrets and a large wooden draw bridge that led over a shallow pond/moat and into the main entrance. The inside was two circular stories of video games and pinball machines with pool tables and air hockey tables in the middle of the lower floor. Outside, three separate miniature golf courses surrounded most of the establishment with a go-kart track off to one side.

The place was crowded on a Friday night, and it took some time for them to secure clubs and balls. Joe stopped at the restroom running into Marta, who was exiting the ladies' room as he walked back up the short hallway. They stood waiting patiently for Frank and Billy to get out of line.

"I'm fine," she blurted.

Joe resisted the temptation to say, "You sure are..." It was the kind of joke her mother would have rolled her eyes at but still laughed.

"I beg your pardon?"

"You keep looking at me funny. I was thinking you must be wondering why I'm not sitting home, crying my eyes out, having just lost my mother."

"Oh...I...Well, I figure everyone deals with grief in their own way," said Joe while thinking that his looks had nothing to do with any expectations of Marta's grief.

"My mom taught me that getting upset about inevitable things like death is a waste of time. It comes for us all sooner or later. I think she would have been unhappy at the thought of me making a fuss over her, but I do admit I did my fair share of crying at the outset. I think now I'm just ready to remember the fun things I always loved about her, and you guys are giving me another wonderful outlet to do that."

That sounded like vintage Bonnie. She had always been the pragmatic one of the group.

"So, from what you said in the car, I gather you don't still play guitar?"

"No...I still have one, but my job keeps me busy. I haven't picked it up in years."

"The way my mom talked about you, I pictured a guy with long hair and tattoo's adorning his arms. A rocker with a heart of gold type."

Joe laughed, shaking his head, "I think your mom's memories of me are just that. I'm not that guy anymore."

"The 'Crazy Joe Harper,' she knew is long gone?"

"I put that guy to rest many years ago. I would have imagined that Bonnie would have been happy to hear it. She was on me to grow up at the end."

"Grow up, maybe, but not give up. The way Mom described you, I think she wanted to see you embrace your talent but do it maturely."

"Did she...ever say anything about me?"

It was a question he had been dying to ask but equally afraid to voice.

Marta seemed lost in thought for a moment and then started to answer, but before she could, Frank and Billy returned with Tess in tow.

"Time to see if you still have that magic stroke, Harper!" said Billy tossing a club to Joe.

Regretfully, Joe moved off stealing one last glance at Marta and hoping they could continue this conversation some other time.

FUNERAL FOR A FRIEND -

The following morning, Joe had awoken early and gone down to breakfast alone, wanting to have a little quiet time to get his thoughts together before the funeral. The night before had been surprisingly fun. He and his old friends had fallen right back into the same playful banter that had characterized their high school years together, and Marta had proven to have just as sharp a wit as her mother more than holding her own. The five of them had played a tightly contested round of miniature golf with Joe winning over Frank by a single stroke. Afterward, they had all gotten ice cream together at a shop next door just as they would have as kids. It was a nostalgic night that had left him with a happy feeling laced with just a bit of melancholy.

At the end of the evening, he had walked Marta back to her car when they had returned to Tess's house. He was not at all surprised to find out the gorgeous young lady drove a vintage 1972 Mustang Mach 1.

"It was my mom's. She said it was like the car she lost her virginity in."

Joe had blushed bright red at that recalling that it was he who had taken it.

"You don't say...Uh...It's a beauty for sure..." said Joe stumbling over his words.

Marta fumbled around in her purse for her keys before looking back up.

"You were asking me earlier about my mom...about whether she talked about you. I'm guessing you want to know how she felt about where you left things?"

"We didn't part on the best of terms..." admitted Joe.

Marta smiled, "Rest easy, Joe Harper. She never held a grudge. I think deep down she wished things had worked out better between you, but life doesn't always go the way we expect."

He blushed at her words and even more so at her scrutiny as she looked him up and down.

"Mom always told me you were a handsome fellow. I can see she didn't exaggerate."

Joe looked away, laughing nervously.

"Yeah, well, you should have seen me back in the day before I got old."

"You don't look so old to me."

Her flirty words hung in the air, and Joe swallowed hard, trying to calm his racing heart. This was starting to edge into bizarre territory. Was she flirting with him, or was it just wishful thinking on his part? Even if she were, wouldn't pursuing it be morally questionable? This was the daughter of his ex-girlfriend, and for that matter, how much of the attraction he was feeling had to do with her resemblance to her mother? It certainly wouldn't be fair to her if the only reason he felt this way were due to some transference of affection or just nostalgia for the woman that got away.

The thoughts whirled around inside his head, making him feel dizzy and disoriented.

"It's getting late. You drive safe in that firecracker. No speeding!" he admonished with a wag of his finger.

She laughed at his concern before getting into her car.

"It was nice to meet you, Joe. I hope to see you again before you leave."

"Sure..."

Marta had started her car that roared to life like some enraged dinosaur before rumbling off into the night.

Joe had struggled to get to sleep when he got back to his hotel. His dreams had been filled with images of Bonnie in her youth that culminated with her morphing into Marta at the end. They had been on a quiet stretch of beach holding hands.

"This seems like a bad idea," he had said to her.

"You're worried that you're thinking about my mother," she had said.

He nodded.

"It's o.k., Joe. I am my mother, but I'm so much more...Is there anything wrong with falling for us both?"

"I don't know. It just seems wrong."

"Don't overthink things...You want to kiss me, don't you?"

Her full lips parted, and he felt himself moving toward her despite a sinking feeling of guilt that burned in his stomach.

"Marta..." he breathed as their mouths started to come together.

Then, suddenly, his arms were empty, and she was gone, vanished. He turned wildly around, but he was alone on the beach with just the crashing waves. A deep sense of loss overwhelmed him, and he fell to his knees, crying and making fists in the loose sand.

The dream had left him feeling supremely unsettled.

What was it supposed to mean? That he missed, Bonnie? That he was afraid, his life had turned out all wrong because she hadn't been a part of it? Maybe that he had lost some part of himself when he had turned his back on being a musician?

"Or am I just feeling guilty because I got all hot and bothered by her daughter last night..." he thought, running a spoon angrily around the inside of his coffee cup.

"What did that coffee ever do to you?" asked Billy, sitting down across from him.

Joe ignored the comment dropping his spoon onto a napkin.

"Where's Frank?"

"I don't think he's a morning person. I wouldn't worry. I'm sure he will be ready for the funeral."

Billy ordered a plate full of food and sipped his cup of coffee while he waited.

"Can I say that you look a little rough this morning? Didn't you sleep last night?"

"I can never sleep well in hotel room beds. They don't feel right," lied Joe.

"Me, I love 'em. Especially with the right woman between the sheets with you. Did you see that maid out in the hallway this morning?"

Billy launched into a story about how he had spent a wild night with a Hispanic house-keeping lady at a restaurant trade show in Dallas that left little to the imagination. It was a tale made more embarrassing by the fact that he kept right on telling it even when the female waitress came back to freshen his coffee.

Frank finally joined them just as Billy shoveled in the last morsel from his plate.

"Do you want us to wait while you order?" asked Joe.

Frank barely stifled a yawn, not at his best yet.

"Nah...I don't mind eating alone. You two should get ready. I'll probably get some fruit or something."

Joe ended up finishing well ahead of his friends and waited impatiently in the lobby for them to show up.

"Sorry...Frank couldn't find his tie..." explained Billy throwing him an irritated look.

"My wife organizes my stuff," he apologized with a shrug.

"Does she tie your shoes too?"

"Obviously not..." mumbled Frank, but he glanced down to make sure they hadn't come undone, making Joe roll his eyes toward the ceiling.

"Come on, you two. It's impolite to be late for a funeral."

The church was filled with people Joe didn't recognize, and it occurred to him that as much as he felt like he knew Bonnie, he had been only a small part of her journey. The number of friends and acquaintances in attendance must have been close to two-hundred. Upfront, he spotted Marta standing near a large portrait of her mother, shaking hands and trading hugs with people as they stopped to express their condolences. He drew closer and saw that there were two portraits arrayed side by side; one had been hidden by Marta. The first portrayed the girl he remembered, all curly-haired and smiling tolerantly at the world as if quietly amused at everyone's antics. The other was of a much older woman that he had never known whose cares were etched into each line on her face.

Billy took the lead, followed by Frank and Tess. They each stopped and said a few words of support before backing away and leaving Joe as last up to bat.

"Marta. How are you holding up?"

She had been looking sad and melancholy when he had walked up, but as soon as she was hidden from the rest of the church, she favored him with a slight smile.

"I think most of these folks are here for themselves. They say all the right words, but I can tell they would rather be someplace else, and it bothers them that I'm not a crying mess on the floor."

"At least they came. I'm impressed with how many people your mother knew," he admitted thinking he had virtually no real friends in New York and wondering just who would bother to show up at his funeral when he eventually had one.

"You know, Mom, social butterfly...I honestly can't wait for this to be over. I should have thrown a wake that would have been more Mom's style, but my grandmother would have had kittens," she said, indicating a frail-looking woman in the front row.

Joe nodded at Beatrice North, but she refused even to acknowledge him. He wasn't surprised she hadn't exactly been his biggest fan when he and Bonnie had been together.

"Hang in there. When it blows over, you are welcome to come to hang out with us misfits."

She smiled again and leaned up for a hug.

Looking over Marta's shoulder, he noticed for the first time there was no casket.

"I had mom cremated straight away. It was what she wanted," explained Marta.

"Right...very sensible..."

Joe went and sat with his friends and waited for the service to start.

It was a typical Methodist service, straight to the point and without a lot of ceremonies. He thought Bonnie would have appreciated something with more pizazz for her memorial. This was much too somber, in his opinion.

The piano music had barely faded when he found himself standing on the front lawn of the church secretly wishing for a cigarette. He had kicked the habit ten years before, but in times of stress, the urge came back with a vengeance.

"Did you notice how close we are to the old campus?" asked Billy walking up to him and kicking at a clod of dirt on the ground.

"Yeah. My bus used to take me right by this church every morning my freshmen year."

"We should stop by and see what it looks like now," suggested Frank.

Tess and Marta exited together and came over to the three loitering men.

"Frank and Billy were pointing out that we are close to the high school. Want to check it out?"

Tess shrugged, but Marta was willing to go anywhere as long as she didn't have to listen to feigned grief from any more distant relatives.

They piled back into the rental car and drove just five blocks away parking across the street from their old campus.

"Harmon High School...Was it always this small?"

"I think it's the same size, Billy. You got bigger."

Billy chuckled, "Fat jokes...Sure, go for the easy laugh."

They stopped under the flag pole that marked the exact center of the vast lawn in front of the three-story-tall main building.

"I can see my homeroom from here. Ms. Bigsby's first period U.S. history the highlight of my senior year. What a boring way to start the day," said Frank.

"It could have been worse. You could have been in economics first period with me...Uggg," said Joe with a fake shudder.

"You know what I want to see? Whether my old locker is still there," threw out Tess starting in the direction of what had then been known as the senior "locker pod," a collection of rows of steel lockers inside an open-air, brick structure with a metal roof that made a God awful noise when it rained. Everyone else followed along behind, but they never made it.

The group had only covered about half the distance passing the main building and turning into the gap between that one and the two-story building behind it that housed the old science classrooms when a strange whirring noise like an electric car reached their ears. From down the sidewalk, they all turned to stare dumb-founded at a man with a bike helmet riding a Segway and trying to look deadly serious as he closed the distance.

"It can't be..." said Billy.

"I'm pretty sure it is...Tess?"

"I see him. Toby Martin. I can't believe he still works here."

"It looks like he changed out his moped for an even more ridiculous looking ride," pointed out Frank, reminding them all how their security guard nemesis from the past had patrolled the campus on the back of a rickety-looking moped scooter.

He swooped past them, struggling to control his more advanced transport, finally managing to turn around and halt a few steps away.

"You people are trespassing on school property. What's your business here?" said Toby trying to conjure a voice of authority.

Joe was so taken aback by the sudden appearance of this specter from his past he couldn't answer at first. The years had not been kind to Toby. His hair, thinning even back in his twenties, was almost non-existent now just a few wispy looking blond strands jutting out from under his helmet. He had gained considerable weight most of it in his gut, and his face had the florid complexion of a man who drank far more than was good for him.

"Relax, Toby. Were taking a trip down memory lane," said Billy.

"Do I know you, Mister?"

"It's Billy Walker. I used to go to school here back in the day. I'm sure you must remember me," replied Billy with a glint in his eye.

"Walker...Walker...You were that smart ass kid that stole the spark plugs out of my moped and then chained it to the bike racks."

"Ah! You do remember. I'm touched."

"Do you remember me, Toby. Joe Harper."

Toby looked Joe up and down, a faint flicker of recognition in his eyes.

"I remember you a bit. You were even worse than Walker, as I recall. Didn't I send you to the principal's office a dozen or more times?"

"Not sure...I lost count, but you have the right guy."

"I don't care who you are. This campus is off-limits without a guest pass from the office and an escort. I don't see no escort, so I'm guessing it's safe to assume you ain't got no pass neither."

"Look, Toby. We were checking out the old campus. We won't hang around long," said Frank.

"You won't hang out at all. If you're not off this property in five-minutes, I'm calling the police."

"Easy there, Deputy Dog, we aren't here to cause any trouble," laughed Billy, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

Toby's face clouded over, "Make that three minutes..."

"Toby...We are just here to look around and leave," said Tess stepping to the front.

"I don't give two shits what you think you're doing. It's now two-minutes."

"There is no call to be rude to the lady," said Frank in an angry tone.

"One minute..." said Toby, reaching to pull a cell phone from his pocket.

"Okay...Okay! You win! Everyone back to the car!" said Joe in exasperation.

They beat a hasty retreat back toward their car with Toby trailing behind them, making sure they left.

"Wow...What an asshole. Was he always this way?" asked Marta.

"Sadly...Yes, and the years have not mellowed him a bit," replied Joe as they got in the car.

Billy watched the old security guard out the window while Joe turned the car around and headed back toward the church.

"You know we always said we were going to steal his moped and hoist it up the flagpole. I bet that Segway would be even easier..."

He let his voice trail off while looking at Joe intently.

It didn't take long for him to pick up on the mischievous look in his old friend's eyes.

"No, Billy. Absolutely not..."

"Come on, Joe. One last prank. This could be the final chance for us to put one over on old Toby."

"We aren't kids anymore, Billy. We could get in serious trouble if we get caught."

"Since when did Crazy Joe Harper worry about getting caught? What happened to the boy with balls of steel?"

"He grew up and got a life," said Joe.

"I think Billy's right," said Frank from the back.

"You parroting Billy, some things never change..."

"I hate to sound like I'm jumping on the bandwagon, Joe, but...when did you become such a pussy?"

"Jesus! Tess! You too? Give me some help here, Marta. Talk sense to these clowns."

"Actually, I've always been a little jealous I didn't get to be involved with one of my mom's capers."