“All right,” I said. “Enough.”
Sphinx blinked.
“No, wait,” he said. “I said I can’t promise you anything, but I can go find Lary and tell him how hard it was for me to talk you out of going to Shark. He’d believe me and would never lay a finger on you again. That’s all I can do. If that’s something that works for you.”
“It does,” I said quickly. “It does work for me.”
I was this close to telling him that all I’d wanted was to irk him, but stopped myself just in time. I snatched the cigarette left for me by Alexander, clicked the lighter, and took a drag so hard that my eyes almost bugged out. The wretched creature in the mirror imitated my greedy gesture, making me ashamed for him and for myself.
“Listen, Smoker, why is it that you never fight back when someone’s beating you up?”
I coughed up smoke.
“Who? Me?”
“Yes, you.”
The faucet behind Sphinx’s back leaked, so the bottom of his shirt was getting wet. The deepening cyan color was making his eyes even more green than normal. He sat hunched up, not straight like he always did, as if trying to draw out my soul with those water-sprite eyes of his. Pull it out and then dissect it at his leisure.
“What good would that do?” I said.
“More than you can imagine.”
“Sure. Lary would have a laughing fit and forget to swing his fists.”
“Or be so surprised that he’d stop thinking of you as a Pheasant.”
He seemed to genuinely believe in what he was saying. I couldn’t even get angry at him for this.
“Sphinx, stop it,” I said. “This is ridiculous. What was it I should have done? Scrape his knee?”
“You should have done whatever. Even Tubby bites when he feels threatened. And you had a cup of hot coffee right in your hand. I think it scalded you when you fell.”
“So I was supposed to pour my coffee on him?”
Sphinx closed his eyes for a second.
“Better that than pouring it all over yourself.”
“I see,” I said and crushed the cigarette in the ashtray. It flipped over and I barely managed to grab it. “You guys crave entertainment. You’d like to see how I flap my arms at Lary, bite his finger, and douse the bed in coffee. I guess Tabaqui would even make a song about it afterward. Thank you so much for the advice, Sphinx! How can I ever repay you?”
Sphinx suddenly shot off his perch and was next to me in just a couple of steps. He was looking at me in the mirror. He had to bend down, like he was peering at someone behind a low window.
“You’re welcome,” he said, addressing that someone. “Don’t mention it. Lary himself would have given you the same advice if he happened to be here.”
His jumping startled me so much I swallowed all the curses that were ready to come out.
“Of course,” I said. “He’d have nothing to lose.”
Sphinx nodded. “And he’d finally be able to leave you alone. Do you know why Logs are always picking on Pheasants? Because they never fight back. Not in principle and not in practice. Just close their eyes and go wheels up without a peep. And until you stop doing that, a Pheasant will be all Lary sees when looking at you.”
“You said you were going to set him straight.”
Sphinx was still trying to mesmerize my reflection. The reflection that was still looking worse and worse.
“I did. And I will. Not a problem.”
His tricks were making my head spin. I felt that there were three of us here.
“Sphinx, will you stop talking to the mirror?” I blurted out. “The me that’s in there is all wrong!”
“Yep. You’ve noticed it too, haven’t you?”
He turned around absentmindedly, as if he really was talking to someone else and I’d interrupted him. Then he focused on me, which was even more disconcerting. I felt a headache coming on.
“All right,” he said. “Let’s forget about that you, the one living in the mirror.”
“Are you saying he is not me?”
“He is. But not quite. He is you seen through the lens of your image of yourself. We all look worse in the mirror than we actually are, didn’t you know that?”
“I’ve never thought about it that way.”
Suddenly it dawned on me how crazy it all sounded.
“Cut out this nonsense, Sphinx. It’s not funny.”
Sphinx laughed.
“It is funny,” he said. “It really is. Funny how, as soon as you start to grasp something important, your first reaction is to shake it out of yourself.”
“I’m not shaking out anything.”
“Look over there,” Sphinx said, nodding at the mirror. “What do you see?”
“A pathetic cripple with a shiner,” I said darkly. “What else can I possibly see?”
“You need to keep away from mirrors for a while, Smoker. At least until you get over feeling sorry for yourself. Have a talk about this with Noble. He never looks in the mirror.”
“How come?” I said in astonishment. “I wish I could see in the mirror what he sees when he looks in it.”
“How do you know what he sees?”
I tried to imagine that I was Noble. Looking at myself in the mirror. Massive attack of narcissism.
“He sees something like young David Bowie. Only more beautiful. If I looked like Bowie, I’d—”
“Whine that you look like elderly Marlene Dietrich and dream of looking like Mike Tyson,” Sphinx said. “That’s a direct quote, so don’t think I’m exaggerating. What Noble sees looking in the mirror is completely different from what you see looking at him, which is only one example of reflections behaving strangely.”
“I see,” I said. “Makes sense.”
“It does?” Sphinx sounded surprised. “It still doesn’t quite for me. Even though I spent some time researching the subject.”
I was suddenly overwhelmed by desire to ask him something. Something that had been gnawing at me for a while.
“Listen, Sphinx. Alexander . . . How come he’s like that? Did you just feed him to Lary? Or is that how he was when he came in?”
“How come he’s like what?” Sphinx frowned.
“You know. Helpful.”
“Oh man, not another one,” Sphinx drawled. “What horrors did we inflict on him? We didn’t. But you don’t believe me, so there’s no point in my telling you this.”
I didn’t believe him. Not for a moment.
“Why is he always cleaning up after everybody? Bringing people things? Does he like it?”
“I don’t know why. I have an idea, but I don’t know for sure. I know one thing, though: it’s nothing to do with us.”
The expression on my face must have been telling. Sphinx sighed.
“All right. I guess that’s how he sees his purpose in life. His previous job was much harder. He worked as an angel, and he got really fed up with it. So now he’s doing his best to prove his usefulness in any other capacity.”
“Worked as a who?”
Sphinx was the last person I expected to be pulling a stunt like this. It just wasn’t his style. Now, Tabaqui I would understand, that would be his area of expertise.
Sphinx wasn’t about to elaborate.
“You heard me,” he said. “I’m not going to say it again.”
“OK,” I mumbled. “Got it.”
“Just observe. You’ll notice that he’s always trying to preempt our requests. Do something before he’s asked to. He generally doesn’t like it when people talk to him. Doesn’t like to be personated.”
“To be what now?”
“He. Doesn’t. Like. Being. Noticed,” Sphinx chanted. “Being talked to. Asked. Paid any attention. It annoys him.”
“How do you know? Did he tell you that?”
“No. I live next to him.”
Sphinx bent over and scratched his ankle with the prosthesis, like he was using a stick.
“He likes honey and walnuts. Likes seltzer, stray dogs, striped awnings, round stones, worn-out clothes, no sugar in his coffee, telescopes, and a pillow on his face when he’s asleep. He doesn’t like when people look him in the eye or stare at his hands. Doesn’t like strong wind and flying cottonwood fluff, can’t stand white clothing, lemons, and the scent of chamomile. All of that would be obvious to anyone with a working pair of eyes.”