STORY: Only The Gardener Was Immune to Its Power

One day Parlo pulled up a chair across from the antique-framed 10 foot wide and equally tall mirror built into the royal entrance hall. He tapped his cane down on the tiles, sending a heavy metallic echo into the windowed cupola poking up from the second floor ceiling. The short, balding round-bellied 68 year old wearing a soil-stained vest and suspendered shorts was visibly uncomfortable in this building of immaculate luxury. He crossed his legs, put his empty pipe in his mouth and rested his beard on his thumb. He squinted at the mirror. In the rich brogue of the under-schooled working class he said, “Ok then, what are you?”

He moved his head around but saw nothing unexpected in the mirror. “You know, I have caught almost each of them in a trance standing before you.”

He glanced secretly both ways, lit his pipe, and set his chin on the patina’d flower handle of his cane. He gazed deeper into the glass. 

“I’ll be patient. Up against a professional gardener, you are.” 

Ten minutes later Parlo heard footsteps and he slipped his pipe into his vest pocket. The prince of the castle and grounds pranced down the wide marble staircase, barely glancing at Parlo before stopping in front of the mirror. He adjusted his frock coat and shaped his wig as he gazed into the mirror. “You’ve cleaned the Rincon courtyard then?”

Parlo replied, “Yes, your highness. Replanted the ones we potted for the ball but also already harvested the produce for today’s and tomorrow’s meals.” 

The prince stayed entranced as the patter of little slippered feet of the 8 year old Baron came down the stairs, followed by the princess floating in her dresses. She rushed to get to the mirror where she fought the prince for space. She adjusted her dresses and high-mounted hair. Their eyes were both stuck to only themselves in the mirror.

The prince’s attention was entirely on himself in the mirror so Parlo tried something, “Your highness, I’m contemplating to suggest a more contemporary mirror to replace this—“ 

Before he had finished, the prince spun around with an aggressive gesture, “Why would you ever do that? Do you WANT to dishonor our great grandfather?! Why would you do that to a king and of course the first high priest?” He glanced at the princess who was scowling at his loss of temper and unbearable resistance to adorn the rooms of the palace. He looked up and down Parlo and said, “Do an impressive planter if you need to add something.” He looked at the princess who nodded at his request. He spoke to Parlo as he turned back to the mirror, “A really tall one. Stick with what you’re…” The prince was too bothered to pick an elegant word, “equipped to do.”

Parlo looked down and nodded, with a silent smile. “Yes, Your Highness. Of course.” 

“Why do you ever wear the silver when you have the gold?” The Prince scowled as he spoke to the princess. “And you’ll never be invited to the Lidersplots again if they see you in the digi-sleeves from last year.” His voice sliced her with bitterness. “At least download the updated interface screen.”

Her face hardened on herself and she said, “Well then finally order me a pair from your fitter.” Without looking at him she shot, “I hope you can finally shoot a ray shark in front of your friends with your new XR contacts. Because you certainly look incompetent when you’re cross-eyed and blinking all the time like that.”

This whole time the young baron was guiding a flying drone the size of a dragonfly with gestures from his hand. He was tucked, cross-legged as close to the mirror as he could be, watching only his reflection manipulating the craft.

At some point they all paused for a strangely long time, each silently staring at themselves, lost in thought. It was large enough for them all to fit in the reflection, but for some reason they seemed to fight for their part of the space.

“C’mon; you always make us late with your fussing.” The Prince finally said as if looking for an excuse to bite at her. “Must you even keep the legend-keepers waiting? You’re going to lose them and my public address will never go out.” He pushed his wife and son out the big doors, though he lingered as long as possible gazing into the mirror.

Parlo again tapped his metal tipped cane on the ground and this got the attention of the prince. He looked at Parlo’s cane, and his eyes darted toward the mirror. “You keep… that away from this side of the room, Parlo.”

“Yessir.” Parlo looked down with a secret smile again. And the prince slipped out.

When they were out of ear-shot he spoke to the room. “I am almost perfectly immune to their judgement in this hall. I could be naked, but for this sharp, heavy cane.” He lifted the metal flower handle between his eyes and his own reflection. Parlo sighed, exhumed his pipe and settled his discerning gaze back into the mirror.

He relaxed and waited. Eventually he found his mind wondering, almost like a dream. He tilted his head and smirked. He realized he had been entertaining a vision of himself as a well-dressed nobleman sitting straight on the same bench but with a delicate monocle over one eye and a dashing hat. The vision of himself doted on a gorgeous younger woman flirting and flitting in dazzling dresses in front of him. His legs were crossed and he smoked his pipe as they waited for someone to bring around his roadship outside. 

He tilted his head. “So that’s you, there?” He flicked an invisible nuisance off his shoulder toward the mirror. “That’s how you do it, then?

I have never known grapes to come from onion plants. And both you and I know I have always been happy to be an onion.

He heard a land bus whir outside and the jingle of dresses and chains on timepieces as footsteps hit the ground. The king entered first and before others could see him, he moved to the very center of the room before the others saw him. He did a half small twirl with his arm held bent with a fist in front of him. As he saw his sword swing out and blint from beneath his coat a smile fully settled on his face. Parlo had seen him do this very thing in the center of the room many times. Perfecting the turn to see his royal sword emerge from his cloak. Now he did it every time in just this way. 

Parlo didn’t even attempt to hide his pipe now as the king and queen welcomed in guests of noble esteem. A few of them glanced at him, but then the King pointed out the mirror and they all lost themselves in it, “And here is the mirror my great father Gregor, king and high priest had forged as a symbol of his philosophy. He said we must see our potential before we can achieve it. Only a mirror of this size could do that, he always said.”

“The kingdom’s potential?” The wife of his friend asked, after glancing at Parlo. But she could barely finish her thought before she lost herself in the mirror., “For what more potential could a king ask for….?” 

“Uh yes, exactly.” The king’s voice trailed off as he caught a glimpse of the teenage daughter of their friends in the mirror. “What more could someone like me want? Indeed. One might think… yes.” A few moments later he shook himself from the trance and laughed it all off. He issued the others past, the followed behind where the daughter walked. Parlo saw the king lean in and whisper something to her. She laughed a nervous laugh and the king’s hand brushed over the young woman’s backside as he guided her up.

The only wise one among them was the guest’s adult son, who had a malformed arm. His gaze had drifted away from the mirror after a despairing shake of his head. But that is when he noticed the strange momentary trance of the others too. And slowly his eyes drifted to Parlo. Parlo nodded. A besmirched smile tilted the son’s head as if he were thinking “Did no one else recognize how out of place this gardener is?”

Parlo had given a shrug and gestured toward the entranced group as his explanation. Parlo watched them all disappear out the back door around the patio that overlooked the great gardens.

Parlo spoke to the room again as he stood up. “I’ve read the stories of this kingdom when Gregor the great took power. Gregor, the one who installed you… and whatever is inside you.” Parlo lifted the cane up, “People didn’t get like…” He clopped his hard metal cane down on the tiles. “THAT before this mirror was here.”

“Well, you know what is stronger that what you do to people?” He held up his hand and bore his plain steel wedding ring. “Promises, sometimes are.” 

“And contentment.” He stood and walked up to the mirror. He held the hard metal rose shaped handle close to the brittle glass.  

“I like your top hat and spinning girlies okay. But do you know what my power over you is? It is the knowing that I don’t need any of that. Do you know what I love more? Feeling the rich dirt on my hands when the sun first reaches my face. And a cup of tea with my Missus. Sure she is rounder than she used to be. But she’s been through thick and thin with me. Power and riches make that harder to find, I do know that?” He walked from side to side in the mirror, examining everything he saw in the room for variations.

“Luckily I have enough food, otherwise I might have to steal. But thank God I need nothing more than two good meals or so and a bed with my missus.” 

He stopped for a moment, closed his eyes, and said, “God, why have you put such power before men?” He waited for just a few seconds. The he opened his eyes with a sly smile. 

He addressed the mirror again. “Show me what you want, then, whoever you are. Maybe I can get it for YOU.” He looked slowly throughout the room in the reflection. “Maybe you will realize manipulating this whole kingdom with visions of glory will not satisfy you.” 

Eventually he tilted his head again. “Ahhh. I see. To you this room is more of a prison than an entry hall, is it?” 

“Maybe you want freedom.” Parlo squinted at the details in the reflection on the far side of the room. “Hmm, I see.” He let his sharp cane bob precariously close to the fragile glass. “Let’s see. First, who are you and how did you get there?” Parlo continued to scan the room. His eyes stopped on two portraits on the upper walls of the entryway. “Well, Hallo. I hadn’t seen you two till now.” He squinted to read the captions of the plaques. “Ahh, King Gregor and… Leon?” The portrait of King Gregor was looking to the right where the other portrait hung next to him, looking directly at the viewer. “Ahh I heard about you, Leon. Gregor’s twin brother. The weaker one, history tells us. But we all know the winners craft the story. Perhaps… I think, you were the good hearted one, Leon?” Parlo thought more as he looked at the portraits. “Yes, I think you were his closest friend, like twins often are. But he hungered for power which you threatened, but he could not bear to kill his brother, nor could he bear to be judged by your benevolent standards. So…” Parlo squinted as he put the story together. “Is there a way to imprisoned someone in this mirror? Ah, like the magic arts he introduced to place spirits in vases. Perhaps he imprisoned you in the mirror to remove the threat and to teach you the allure of power so you would no longer judge him. And just that has happened.” 

“But by what promise are you imprisoned? What spell must we break to free you?” Parlo thought of the rules about the imprisoned spirits in vases. 

He held his heavy, metal rose shaped cane handle close to the glass and wobbled it back and forth, dangerously close to the glass. He stared at the rose for a long time.

“Hmm. I do not know the rules of this spell. Whether breaking this mirror will break you free from it. But even if it breaks not your spell, I do know the two things to break your raging power lust. Perhaps you knew them too and have simply forgotten them in your captivity.”

I will teach you to the contentment which demands nothing else to be happy, by tomorrow at this time. 

***

The next day the king was the first to visit the mirror, the young woman tip-toeing close behind him down the stairs. He whispered to her secretively. 

“You must go in a moment, but come. Do not leave before we look at us together in the mirror. They both paused in front of it. The king backed up to his favorite spot where he could see the whole room around him. “Come here. He beckoned to the giggling, tip-toeing girl. “Stand with me. Let’s just see how we look.” 

Parlo didn’t need to be here to do what needed to be done. He had installed a beautiful planter in the middle of the room like the prince had asked. One that reached above their heads, overflowing with the most beautiful flowers from Parlo’s garden. But it was on a tall, neatly twisted steel pole with a base just big enough to hold it securely, if untouched. Strong steel arms held the heavy, overflowing planter in place at the top. 

The king had been so absorbed with the view of them in the mirror that he had not looked at the new planter that towered above their heads. Parlo knew this would happen too.

“Come.” He said to her. “Watch this.” he twisted his waist to see his robes open and the sword emerged, sure enough. The glinting metal barely missed the new spindly metal post that lead to the huge, teetering planter.

“Wow is that the royal sword from your great grandfather?” The girl was struck by the legend of it.

He looked at her with a smile and said, “Indeed, my beautiful one. It is.” 

He opened his arms and began his twirl once again. His arm brushd the post, but moved it just enough to set it off Center. Then as the tip of his long heavy sword emerged from his coat and tapped the metal shaft, it was enough to move it over center. It slowly tipped towards the mirror. And after one second more there rang a crack and horrible scratching. And a long crack shot up the middle of the mirror from top to bottom. 

As it all settled, a pile of beautiful rich soil overflowing with flowers spread across the floor in front of the broken mirror.

There was a big scandal throughout the palace that day. All were yelling at each other and blaming. Parlo was called in to clean up the flowers. He replanted them in a smaller planter in the center of the room. But in the evening after it all calmed down, and they had given up on fixing the mirror, Parlow wandered in quietly and sat on the bench like he had the day before. He held a silent smile. He lit his pipe and crossed his legs. 

A few minutes later, he spoke to the mirror, “I consulted a priest on the magic that holds a spirit inside a vessel. Do you know what he said? We are the jails of our own desires. So, it seems when you have stopped longing, you will be freed.

“See? When you are broken like my elderly self and the young lad with the dopey paw, you are finally free. You will be free from the obsessive allure of grandeur that manipulates family and exploits friendships. Those of us who know what we are; we know we will never have what society says we should want most. So all we have is to be good to our people and enjoy the simple pleasures in skin.

And that is why I broke you, and will keep this planter fresh and watered before you. So that you learn again the simple pleasures of the present. And you will be content. And you will be free.