Trina first saw the android in the window of Saks Fifth Avenue.
It had golden gears, and a golden brown skin that sold separately.
Trina pulled out her bench and sat with her dolly, Madison.
‘He looks like Father?’ Trina said.
‘Your Father was shinier,’ replied Madison.
“Father twinkled like the moon on a windswept beach.”
Madison cringed and wrinkled her nose.
Trina continued: “Father was on a plane to Hawaii when the hurricanes struck. He went down like a meteor over Cher in Nantucket: poor father.”
“Why Cher in Nantucket?”
“She has the right syllables.”
Trina stood and moved the bench closer to the window.
‘The bot is browner than Father, but I rather like it.”
“Your Father didn’t have abs like that!”
Trina sat Madison on her lap. “How would you know!”
Madison giggled, “That day you left me in the bathroom; I watched
your Father take a bath.”
Trina was shocked and curious “Did you see ‘it’?”
“I guess not.”
“Your Father was hairy; that bot’s not hairy. Your father was old too.”
Trina opened her bag and pulled out a tea set.
Madison looked up in surprise: “Is that an elephant?”
Trina leapt to her feet: “It’s
Anjana!” She hugged the elephant’s mighty trunk.
“And you’ve brought mice!
Seven mice dressed like
gazed up at Trina with quivering noses. dwarfs
Anjana knelt and the mice scurried onto his back.
The android gazed at them blankly from the window of Saks Fifth Avenue.
“He looks like my Father,” said Trina.
“Where is your Father?” asked Anjana.
“He blew up during the First World War.”
Anjana raised his trunk and flicked a tear from his cheek, “How tragic.”
Madison rolled her eyes, “Some tea, Mr. Elephant?”
A week after Trina first spotted the android in the window of Saks Fifth Avenue he was gone.
She stared through her reflection in the window and wondered where he was.
The sky suddenly darkened and the
shadow of a little boy stepped into view.
“Did you lose your boy again?” Trina asked.
The shadow boy sat on the sidewalk and sighed, “I lost my Father. He was a fighter pilot behind enemy lines in Atlanta. When Napoleon met his Waterloo; they shot him like a dog.”
Trina nodded sagely, “That’s exactly what happened to my Father.”
Madison scowled and popped a seam.
“Do you think he’ll come back to the window?” The little shadow boy sipped
“I think he will.” Trina replied. “Let’s have a cupcake while we wait.
Rob Goldstein 2019
Trina and Her Doll, Madison
I wrote this for the monthly #writingprompt from D. Wallace Peach
You can join in here: Myths of the Mirror