Mirror

“Ow!” Penny’s curly head smacked against the open door. “Baby, are you okay? Aw. Tsk, Amber, please look out for your sister better.” Magnolia mildly scolded, gently stroking Penny’s tawny forehead. “Sorry.” Amber tugged her sister’s hand until she’d entered the car, then buckled their seatbelts. “Remember, girls: Any bed you agree upon.” Magnolia repeated, raising her eyebrows. She picked up her dachshund and closed them into the red-orange Nissan. Amber rolled her purplish-gray eyes. Magnolia, cradling Barry, stepped backwards onto their concrete porch to allow the car space to exit the driveway. It drove down their new street, turning onto the main drag. The roads stayed barren apart from the van throughout the whole drive to the opposite side of town, past dead, brown corn fields and long-abandoned, broken-down shacks that looked as though they’d topple from just one powerful sneeze.

A large warehouse appeared at the end of a long, straight road, quite distant from other businesses or homes. The words “Friendly Furnishing’s Furniture Finds” hung five feet above the front door in huge, blocky, yellow letters, coated in a thick layer of clotting, gray dirt. Max parked the van near the front of the store on the dirt lot while Amber absorbed her extremely odd surroundings.

The primary aspect she noticed was that no trees or shrubs were planted around the store as was typical of stores elsewhere; there was even a lack of grass covering the ground. Next, she perceived that she and her company were the only people in sight, theirs the lone car parked before the warehouse-turned-store. Well, we are in the middle of nowhere, Amber figured. Cautiously Max emerged after he, too had taken time to size up the place.

Helping Penny from the car, Amber guided her into the furniture emporium. Smelling strongly of maple and pine sap, Friendly Furnishing’s Furniture Finds was as huge on the inside as it appeared to be on the outside. The place spilled over with a wide variety of home goods, and though ample lights drooped from the ceiling, it was extremely dark within.

Ironically, it also appeared as though the staff did nothing to keep the store “friendly” or decorated nicely or even passing standard business health codes; the floor was concrete caked in mud, spilled carnauba wax, and dirt; spider webs hung in plain sight; and the white brick walls kept the temperature down. An overweight man resembling nothing less than a huge spoonful of chocolate pudding sat, hunched over on a silver stool behind a counter on which rested a dusty cash register.

“Pete,” according to the nametag on his yellow associate’s apron, happened to be extremely engrossed in his blue Gameboy Pocket. Max cleared his throat. Pete hesitantly placed his game on the counter, huffed, and glanced their way. “Hello. Good morning. How may I help you?” He drew out his words like a zombie. Max replied, “Hi, we need two beds for my daughters. We just moved in and I am on a budget so the beds should be more on the cheap side, y’know?” With a considerable deal of effort, Pete dropped off his stool and depressingly proceeded to lead the customers past a mostly grotesque display of maple, pine, oak, poplar, and cherry tables, dressers, chairs and couches – all organized by the types of wood from which they’d been constructed- before bringing them before the queen bed frames. Max steered Amber, who still held Penny’s hand, over to a simple pine bunk. “Look at this one! It’s like what I got for you guys when you were little.” Wheezing, he turned the white tag over to check on the price. “You think you could handle this?” He asked Amber, who shook her head instantly. She advanced from the pine frames to a mahogany, Victorian-style queen bed. Breathtakingly delicate, intricately patterned carvings wound around its four-poster poles, and Amber envisioned the resting haven bringing elegance and sophistication into their obnoxiously yellow new bedroom.

“I want this one, please.” She requested certainly. Without missing a beat, Max responded, “For twelve hundred dollars? No way, Amber, pick out something I can actually afford.” Amber placed her finger into the crevice of a curved line carved into one of the bed’s poles. “Mom said we could choose whichever we wanted, though! Look at the brilliancy in those Victorian-style carvings! I have never had anything this nice! PLEASE?” Amber tried. Penny squeezed the hand of her sister while grasping the bed post. Max didn’t even glace at the unique bed frame before responding, “And you won’t as long as I’m buying! You’re going to be sleeping in it, Amber! You won’t even notice the difference between this and a pine bunk! Why not that one over there, huh?” He pointed over to a simple queen pine frame. It wasn’t a canopy, didn’t have any carvings, and its coloring wasn’t nearly as easy on the eyes as the mahogany beds were.

Amber raised her eyebrows petulantly. “Dad, that bed is so distasteful in appearance, I’m actually considering trading places with my blind twin.” She exclaimed bitterly. Penny, who had gotten distracted in her thoughts and hadn’t the slightest idea what either bed looked like, whispered to Amber, “What? What’sh wrong wit it?” Amber explained under her breath. Penny, without much reason to care about the appearance of the bed she slept in, continued her inquiries no further. “The pine bed is perfect, come on.” Max attempted to persuade Amber. “It is not! If it doesn’t look bad enough, the smell should make my case!” She countered, to which Penny added, “Everything here smellsh dirty.” Pete, staring longingly over at his Gameboy on the counter, hardly noticed Max as he called, “Sir! Sir! Excuse me! Hey, can you please do your job and explain to this sybarite why that bed down there would be an excellent choice for her and her sister? Just- your job, please?!” Turning away from the game, Pete cleared his throat-which hid under at least three chins- and droned in a voice furthest from that of a salesman, “Yes, sir. Our mahogany furniture selection adds essence, culture and sophistication to any room. Search through our selection of mahogany bed frames available in queen, king, and twin, and enjoy the luxurious atmosphere it-” Max angrily cut him off, “No, I meant that bed down there- the queen pine, see?” He jabbed his finger toward the pine selection and Pete recited in his zombie voice, “Our pine selection is a lovely place to search for tables, kitchen sets, and rocking chairs within a reasonable price range. We have recently, ahem- fifteen years ago- ahem, added beds to this comfy assortment of furniture. They come in queen and twin.” Max crossed his muscular black arms and rolled his eyes at Pete’s poor display of persuasion.

“No, no, no! You’re not convincing me at all! Selling products depends on the description you give of that product! And that, my friend, is captured by your annunciation, your tone-which was sluggish, by the way- and your hand motions! It all adds up to the correct vigorous flair of a good- a great!- salesperson! See, you want the customer to believe they benefit from purchasing your product! You want me to believe that this is a deal, a steal! You want the customer to . . .” Max educated Pete passionately as Amber whipped out her cellphone and called Magnolia, who answered with concern much to her daughter’s expectation. “Hello? What’s wrong? Where is Penny? Does Dad need me? Honey, talk to me!” Amber sighed. “Hey, Mom.” “Hi, sweetheart. Is your sister okay?” “Yeah, Penny’s fine. Listen, Mom . . .” Amber smooth-talked her case before handing the phone to Max confidently. After much resistance and argument, Max handed Amber back the phone, having agreed to purchase the beds of her choosing. Amber, with an air of both placidity and pride, led Penny over to the only window in the entire shop while Max took to the register with Pete to pay the beds off. The window was a small 1’x 2’, needed a washing, and lacked in curtains, blinds, and a latch for opening.

But, it was a window and an escape all the same. Not a portal that would take Amber away, but a metaphorical break from her emotional confinement. Staring out the window at the vast expanse of empty, dry land distracted her from the painful truth of her current existential situation. Beside her, Penny drummed her skinny, tawny-brown fingers against the window sill, feeling dust and clotted dirt stick to them as she ran them to and from the surface. Through the filthy window, Amber saw that a storm was approaching, which didn’t strike her as abnormal at first, since rain clouds were rather ubiquitous. But then she remembered that she was in Thestusa, a town on which rain supposedly never poured.

“Penny, didn’t someone tell us that it doesn’t rain here?” Amber mumbled. Dazedly, Penny shrugged. Something was amiss, and it frightened Amber to see the myriad clouds ballooning so quickly. She was about to inform Max and Pete of her findings when a clap of thunder sounded from the sky, chased by a flash of lightening. Rain splattered against the window and the dirt making up the “parking lot” churned from creamy- like- coffee to near-black in mere seconds. A boom of thunder louder than the previous scared Pete into shrieking from behind the cash register. All Amber and Penny heard was a masculine shout resound off the white brick walls, then the next thing they knew, their father was wildly calling for Amber. The 11-year-old zipped to the register to find Pete on his back beside the turned silver stool, Max leaning over him. “Amber-get Mom on the phone! Dial 9-1-1! Do it! We don’t have time!” He cried frantically. “What happened?” “It’s mah back!” Pete groaned. “Amber!” Max barked. Amber’s heart raced as she fumbled with her phone, jittery. “No! NO! DON’T!” Pete hollered, startling Amber into dropping her phone. She picked it up immediately, her father’s eyes burning her as ferociously as fire. “What?” She said to the heap of Pete on the floor. “The owner-the manager! He in da back! Behind-whooo!-behind da employees only doa!” Pete heaved deeply, stupendously out of breath. “The hell’s he gonna do?” Max asked. “He got my records, he got my information! He know what to do- behind da employees only doa!” Pete shouted urgently. “What?” Amber squinted at him in confusion. “GO!” Max bellowed, pointing to the back of the store. Amber ran at her father’s command, nearly crashing into multiple items of furniture in the process. Surely enough, she came upon a yellow, both-ways door bearing the words Employees Only once she reached the other end of the warehouse. She grimaced, but pushed it open hesitantly, the rule screaming in her ears, shaming her for disobeying it. A tiny blur of yellow swooped down and flashed past her cheek in one quick motion as she stepped inside. Amber ducked down. “Is that a bird?” She asked herself, accidently aloud. A high-pitched tweeting that filled the room a second later answered her question. Amber called out feebly, “Um, hello? Manager? Owner? A clerk named, er, Pete- he fell. My dad is trying to-to get him, um, up . . . hello?” From within the doorway, she advanced into the room slowly. “Hello!” She called again, not expecting the reply that came shortly after. She heard a footstep behind her and turned. She gasped. An old man, with long white hair, a round bald spot atop his head, and wrinkly jowls, who wore a raggedy, long-sleeved shirt and baggy gray pants, stood staring at her with wide, feral eyes. Amber stepped back. “Are you the manager? I- I’m so sorry I broke the rules it was just this once please don’t be angry it was an emergency don’t put this on my permanent record PLEASE!” “Shut up.” Amber looked away from the man’s blue eyes, having never been spoken to by an adult in that manner before, much less upon introduction. Her heart beat faster, and she wondered how she could safely extricate herself from the uncomfortable situation. Then anger and defensiveness took over as her predominant states of mind. She was his customer! If her father had taught her anything about selling products, it was that “the customer is always right.” She opened her mouth to speak, but was told shortly, “Do not speak.” Amber crossed her arms bitterly, opting to glare at the man if she were to be obedient. She glanced toward the door when she remembered her purpose, and wondered, Is Dad okay? Is Pete standing? Has the storm gotten worse? What about Penny? After what seemed like an eternity of silence outside of her throbbing head, the man spoke again, to address her in a certainty as though it were by name, “Rorrim.” Amber responded flippantly, “Excuse me?” He repeated, “Rorrim”, to which she replied, “What does that translate to?” He closed his mouth and, since Amber had nothing left to say, silence yet again filled their ears, ironically, as loudly as dirty rap blasting from a car’s radio.

“My dad needs assistance, sir. Is this your store? Are you the manager? Pete fell and-” “Pete is standing and assisting a customer.” The old man interrupted stiffly. Amber thought him mad, and raised her eyebrows at him accordingly as he stuck out his hand stiffly. “I introduce myself as Coy. Rorrim to rorrim, tell me your name.” Amber shook his dry hand quickly once. “Can you please define rorrim for me?” Coy cocked his head and said, louder and clearer than before, “Tell me what the humans you associate with refer to you as.” How quickly Amber reacted to the demanding tone in the man’s peculiar request was unnatural. “My name is Amber Wyvern Locking,” she expressed as softly as she could without whispering. “Ah, yes. Wyvern. Hmmm.” Coy curled his lips into a smile and narrowed his old eyes in thought. Amber interrupted, “So, why did you say that word? Can you please define it?”

The man pursed his already thin lips and partially closed his shriveled eyelids before responding hoarsely, “Spell rorrim backwards, whippersnapper. See what you get.” Before Coy had even completed his second command, Amber had responded, “That’s mirror.” Coy muttered quickly, “Correct. And that’s what you are, a rorrim.” “A mirror?” “No, owner of a mirror.” “Well, there’s a mirror on the wall in the bathroom of my new house, but technically I don’t own it, my parents do.” Amber corrected him. Coy airily waved his hand to shoo away her reasoning. “No! You possess a much more complex and unique type of mirror and you have since birth. See those lights, stubborn one?” He pointed a crooked finger at the flickering lights hanging from the ceiling. “Yeah?” Amber looked up, rolling her eyes at being referred to as stubborn. “It is your connection with your mirror that is causing the electric stimulation. And the weather has similar cause. It is your life that is causing the storm.” Amber ran then, swung open the yellow Employees Only door, and continued running past the furniture to the lone window against which leaned Penny. “What? Amber, what’sh wong?” For a few seconds, the only response granted to Penny was Amber’s heavy breathing. “There was this guy and- and Dad- and Pete, the cashier, and, hold on, and…” Penny kept her head straight, her blind eyes open. Amber stared out the window in disbelief. Lightning flashed. Thunder boomed. Rain spread like claws down the window pane and soaked the ground. When they’d left their new house, the sky had been gray as it was each day since they’d moved to Thestusa. Now, however, it was black. Dark clouds hovered overhead, the lighting appearing brighter than before, silhouetted against them. Watching the clouds, hearing the thunder, and watching and hearing the rain kept present in Amber’s mind the eerie conversation she’d been quick to exit with the old man. “He was crazy, Penny. He spoke in a raspy, mystic voice, and said weird crap that made no sense.” Amber knew, I don’t have a mirror like he said, not that it is of any significance. I am not a rorrim, whatever that is. I am not causing the rainstorm or the flickering lights. I am of zero importance in the matter he spoke of. I am but a simple girl shopping for a new bed with my sister and father, since our old beds were lost by the moving company we hired. That’s all I am- a preteen girl moving to a new school. The biggest part of my life is waiting for my newest sibling to arrive, with my sister, mother, and father. That’s all she thought she was, believing herself to matter in no special way to the world. She wasn’t a child star, or even particularly pretty and talented, just Amber Wyvern Locking. She knew that was who she was and who she’d always be. She was reminded of that person constantly. Being a sister, no, a twin sister, no, a twin sister to a blind girl, Amber knew no attention would ever rest solely on her. And with another sibling on the way, attention for her would only decrease, as her responsibilities would only increase. Amber nonetheless felt intrigued in the warehouse with the flickering lights, by the crazy man Coy, in the world expressing its fury through a storm. Her heart skipped multiple beats, and she wasn’t sure if it was fear, excitement, or annoyance bubbling into raw anger. She realized, I need to get out of the store! I need to leave this place with Penny! Dad has to hurry! Wait-where is he? Amber ran back to the register. Without seeing either of the two black men there, she took to the rest of the store, past couches and chairs and tables and beds, scanning the room for Max or Pete. “Dad! Daddy! DAD! Where are you?!” Her heart pounded so strongly, she could hear it louder than the thunder. Though her mouth was dry, she screamed Penny’s name as the lights stopped flickering and went out.

Amber’s immediate, instinctual reaction was to run as fast as she could, which led to her crashing into something blindly and knocking another object down beside her. Whimpering, she held her face and told herself to be calm. Her hands eventually stopped shaking, and she breathed: in, out, in, and out. . . Relax. It’s just the lights. It’s a big store. She assured herself that things were fine and it was all coincidental, so that she could focus on moving and breathing. She couldn’t hear her sister, her father, Pete, or anything except for her quick and unsteady heartbeat with the storm raging outside. She ached to call out, but she couldn’t find her voice. She was stuck between maple bedside tables that she’d previously noticed were very pricy, so she groped around to find the edges of them with her hands in order to squeeze herself out. She pushed herself up, but her thighs would not fit through. She sighed and let her fatigued body drop back between the bedside tables; she was squashed, tight, and uncomfortable. I can’t believe I’m alone in this creepy dark store! I can never seem to get Penny away from me, but when I don’t want nor need privacy, I’m all by myself! That changed when the store’s front door suddenly opened and shut loudly. In an instant, the room became completely dead air, a powerful nothingness seeping into every corner of it. Amber, perceiving the change, wanted nothing more than to scream. Heavy footsteps were audible. For a brief moment, images of Penny at the front of the store in the dark with a stranger caused Amber insane anxiety. But she knew that she had to escape from the trap she’d caught herself in if she were to be reunited with her sister. First, she pushed as hard as she could against the maple table in front of her. She cringed as it crashed loudly against the floor, wondering if the newcomer would possibly choose to follow the sound. Quickly, she rose and stood atop the table that had been behind her. From her vantage point, she could see the window and a few things captured in the light it let through. She saw something dark and shaggy, like hair. But she didn’t catch anything else, not even Penny. It seemed idiotic to be a sitting duck, so she ran. She hit furniture painfully just as she had five minutes before, and kept up her quick pace until she reached the yellow Employees Only door. She pushed it open with her speedy halt and landed on the ground after falling through it. “Coy? Coy?!” She called for help, still on the ground. She’d noticed upon previous observation that the room contained no windows. And it was pitch black, save for a green light emanating from a large desk in the corner of the room that brightened it to a higher level than the warehouse portion of the store. Amber rolled onto her back and brought herself to her feet and walked slowly over to the desk. Atop it, the glow filtered through a rectangle. The source of the glow was so thin that it was difficult for Amber to differentiate it between an individual object and the desk. Amber felt an undeniable attraction to the glow, despite her mind telling her it could be radioactive and the logical thing to do would be to walk away and call the authorities with her cell phone. She reached out to touch it, and felt the fibers of some sort of covering. So it’s a physical object, but what? An oddly-shaped light? Some kind of modernized lamp? With that thought, Amber cuffed both of her hands around either end of the flat rectangle to lift it, and with great difficulty, she did just that. She could smell something dirty, no doubt the covering, which turned out to be a potato sack. She inhaled through her nose and glanced with her eyes, only to endure stinging pains up her nostrils, taste her fear as it dissolved into nothing, hear the storm raging outside cease, and see the face she and Penny shared stare curiously back at her.

Amber opened her eyes to find four, bent and venous fingers jiggling merrily above her head. “Can you count how many, sunshine?” It was the old man, Coy, addressing her with bored sarcasm. “Eight.” “Close but not quite. Take my hand.” He helped her stand. As soon as Amber’s feet supported her body, her legs felt wobbly and the room spun, but she focused on focusing on Coy. He wore a microscopic smile on his saggy, bony face. “I see you have acquired your mirror. Heh, heh. Every rorrim does.” He observed aloud in his raspy voice. Amber moved to the door slowly, her balance still off. Mom and Dad are going to hear about this, along with various doctors! She swung the door open with her right hand, to find that she still gripped the potato sack in her left. She turned back around. “I don’t want this. We just- we just don’t need it.” She insisted as she hobbled back over to the desk to set it down. Coy picked it up. “You found it. You do need it.” She shook her head, causing more dizziness in return for what had just left. “I don’t.” “You do.” “Why? How come I need it so desperately? I can’t think of one reason why I need a tiny mirror that I’ve lived without for eleven years already!” She cried, tossing out her hands in frustration. Coy huffed, “You really don’t see. I guess I was destined to guide you in learning our ways.” “Your ways?” “ You cannot deny it. You are a rorrim. You will need to learn like one. And you need to accept that you were born like this and you will die like this.” Amber’s heart skipped a beat as she remembered his previous words and her reaction to the mirror. The attraction hadn’t left, but Amber pushed it out of her mind when she shouted, “YOU’RE AN IDIOT! I DON’T NEED TO DO ANYTHING YOU SAY! CAN’T ONE THING JUST GO RIGHT IN THIS TOWN? LEAVE ME ALONE, LIAR!”, and melodramatically raced from the room. She hustled to the register to find her father on his mobile phone, speaking with Magnolia, Penny seated under the window with closed eyes, and Pete sitting on the stool, happily reunited with his Gameboy. Astoundingly, thee room somewhat managed to play off the vibe that nothing had happened. Maybe nothing did happen. Maybe I’m delusional due to extreme amounts of stress and trauma from moving to this town. Amber sighed and silently sat down on the ground next to Penny, resting her head on her sister’s bony shoulder. She spoke quietly so no one would hear, “Something isn’t right here.” Penny responded, louder than Amber, “I’ll shay! The queen is sitting on the floor! What kind of mixed up wowd ish dis?” Amber nudged Penny with her elbow, her head still resting on her shoulder. “That’s not as important as the real problem. And you slurred again.” She responded. Penny pushed Amber’s head off her shoulder with her hand. “Sho what? Shpeech therapy ish canshelled! I’m a wowk in progresh!” “Don’t quote Mom on me! I just wanted to let you know when you mess up.” “Don’t.” “Okay, I’m sorry. Gosh.” Amber crossed her arms, but then poked Penny’s shoulder. “It’sh fine. What were you babbling about befowe?” “This town. But not only that. This store, for example, is so crazy. Weird things have occurred throughout the whole time we’ve been here.” Amber told Penny. “I know! Firsht I hear thunder, then you leave, then it getsh cold and quiet and someone else walks in and whispers-“ Penny was interrupted. “Wait-what? You were conscious of the storm and the quiet darkness? I mean, that’s when the lights shut off and Dad and Pete were gone and- wait, did you say that person who came in here said something to you?” Amber pushed excitedly. Penny replied, suspiciously quick, “No. No, I didn’t shay that.” “No, before I interrupted you, you were on the verge of telling me someone said something to you. What did they say? Don’t lie, Penny.” Amber demanded skeptically. “Nutting! I’m not lying!” “What did they whisper then, liar?” Amber asked. “Nothing! Nothing ’appened!” “Girls! Come on, time to go!” Max called to them. Amber got up and then extended her arm for Penny, who grabbed it knowingly. “We will discuss the subject at a later time!” Amber hissed in Penny’s ear. “The beds should be at our house in a week or two.” Max told them. “It all depends on how quickly our testing on them goes, but they’ll come soon!” Pete added with a nod to Max. Both girls groaned in sync. “UGH! I’m so sick of sleeping on the floor.” “Yeah, well just a few more weeks, okay?” Max replied with lack of emotion. The family walked to the door. “Thanks for shopping, come again!” Pete called after them warmly, but Amber saw him pull out his Gameboy a second later. Max held the door open for his daughters, when a sudden tap on the shoulder turned him around. Amber, too, turned. She wasn’t shocked to see Coy at all. What shocked her was his change of clothes; he now wore a uniform similar to Pete’s, only in a smaller size. He held a potato sack flattened due to the object it held. “Good day, sir.” He said cheerfully. “Good day?” Max replied with an uncertain little wave. “Yes, well,” Coy said, glancing at the twins, “We here at Friendly Furnishing’s Furniture Finds offer free promotional gifts to our customers who spend more than two thousand dollars. Please accept it as our thanks to you.” Amber’s jaw dropped and proceeded to quiver, ignoring her attempts to freeze it. Coy acted as if he hadn’t been frightening a little girl by calling her strange names and making her ordinary life out to be some dramatic spectacle ten minutes before. Max snatched the potato sack from Coy’s hands greedily. “Yeah, that’s, that’s great . . . but, sir, as you can see, there are two little girls with me here today.” He chuckled, lightly requesting a second “promotional gift”. Amber lamented on the man telling her she’d acquired her mirror when she’d held that same sack. Is that what this is? The . . . mirror? She wondered, reaching out to stroke it. Coy frowned at Max, but answered in that cheerful manager voice, “I apologize for any disruptions this may cause, sir, but there is a limit of one mirror per customer.” Max hastened, “Well, then how come we don’t get three? As you can see, buddy, there’s three of us here. That should make three promo gifts, am I right?” He whipped his hand outward demandingly, almost dropping the sack. “NO!” Amber cried, and hugged the mirror, turning from her father. “Amber! What the hell?” Max proclaimed, startled at her sudden outburst. “Sorry . . . I just think perhaps I can hold it.” “Sure.” Max turned back to Coy, who smiled smugly at Amber. “Is there a reason you’re giving my daughter that look?” “Sorry, sir. Ahem, you say you want three . . . promotional gifts, yes?” “Yeah, of course.” Max answered. “I’ll be right back with those, PAL.” Coy told him curtly, and walked to the back of the room. Max muttered an obscenity after the man, and shut the door, careful to be sure Penny was not in the way. As they waited, Amber wondered what she held in her hands. She felt a freakishly strong attraction to it, and she didn’t even know what it was! It could be dangerous. Or, it could simply be the promotional gift Coy said it would be. But then why is it wrapped in a sack? Was it imported from a country where potato sacks are the most common means of transporting things? Amber grinned at the thought; she’d always loved imports. Or, maybe it was super old. Maybe, at the time it was stashed in there potato sacks were mainstream, like today’s purses and handbags. Well, whatever it was, I am going to find out. Amber reached her hand inside and pulled at the edges holding the drawstrings. “Here you go, sir. One for you and you.” Coy returned, handing Max a potato sack, and then reaching out to give the other to Penny. “She can’t see.” Max explained, as he had done so many times before. “Oh, I’m sorry.” Coy recoiled rudely fast, and tossed the sack to Max, who caught it. “Thank you.” “Thank you, sir. And, please come again with any other furnishing needs.” Coy stared after Amber as they left the store.