Judgment in Glass

Chapter 5 - Glass 2.0

Curious and Curioser, thought Dragomir, rubbing his dark beard as he watched Serafina Todd leave the antique shop. She looked like she needed a hand, but he also knew that she would turn him down.

He would make up for it, he decided. He did not know why he was compelled to buy two necklaces that would have nowhere to go and no neck to clasp them around. All that he knew was that he wanted to help her get that commission.

Was it a guilty conscience? But for what? The ex-soldier did not do anything to that young girl - woman. He knew that life had turned upside down for Rafina. She used to be a girl who laughed at her own wealth.

Dragomir swung the glass door with the swagger of someone who was not afraid of breaking anything.

“Good evening, young man,” an old man greeted him. He looked like Alfred the butler from Batman, thought Dragomir callously.

“Good evening,” he said, looking around. Despite himself, he was impressed with the antique shop. He had not seen anything quite like it in the different cities and countries he had been to. It was shiny and dark at the same time if that made any sense. It was probably the mix of gold and black, but no, it was something else. It was like the shiny veneer was hiding something dangerous.

But – what could be dangerous about a shop an older version of Alferd was supervising?

“Are you looking for anything in particular?” asked Alfred.

“No, not really. Just looking around. Maybe I could find a gift for someone,” Dragomir knew he sounded bored, but he could not help it. He was only teasing the old man, but he would make sure to buy something extra expensive to make it worth his time.

“But you know, in shops like these, it is best to look for something for yourself first. The right kind of object will call on you.”

Dragomir narrowed his eyes at the old guy but did not say anything.

“I am Mr. Tarus, by the way,” the shopkeeper said, extending his hand.

The ex-soldier did not feel he had any choice. So, he reached out and shook the hand. It was a surprisingly soft hand, though it also looked very wrinkled.

“I am Dragomir Kulic,” he finaly said. “Nice meeting you, Mr. Tarus.”

“Likewise, young man. Look around. Give yourself some time. Don’t worry about me. This shop is open as long as you need it.”

“Hmm. I could swear I saw two ladies come inside not long before me.”

“Oh, you must have seen the two new salesgirls. They are at the back, getting ready.”

Dragomir remembered the women’s fancy clothes and was unsure why Mr. Tarus seemed to be lying to him and was doing so with utmost glee. It was not that noticeable, but there certainly was a twinkle in the shopkeeper’s eyes.

“Do you own this place, Mr. Tarus, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Yes, I do. I have been moving from place to place, but I just might settle here. It looks like a nice, quiet place for an antique shop.”

“And you know that you probably will not earn much here. It is a small community, with an even smaller upper class.”

‘Are you telling me you think my wares are expensive?”

“Ugh. Well, it looks so, although I have not asked you for the prices yet.”

“Then find one that calls out to you.”

Called out to him? Dragomir thought about that. Since he was young, he had always thought that making money would make him more respectable – that people would look up to him instead of fearing him at every turn. Okay, earning money as a mercenary was not ideal, but he had to do the things he had to do. Typically, mercenaries made a maximum of a quarter-million dollars a year. He was more than that. He was a particular weapon.

What else could have been calling on him other than money? Women had only given him fleeting enjoyment. The only woman who mattered had already died. If only his mother were here, perhaps his mindset would have been different. She would probably be looking for a woman for him to marry.

“Find someone from the old country,” she would have said.

“But I am here. Why can’t I find someone from here?” he would have answered.

The what-ifs were drowning him. He could still hear his mother’s voice when his eyes closed at night.

What else would have called to him? So many things called him out of Desiderium. It was a place that he did not want to return to. What then would anything in Curious and Curioser give him joy? What would call to him?

He looked up, game to find any expensive antique. He did not like wasting people’s time. But for some reason, his eyes were drawn to a mirror – of all things. It had a gold frame with little carved figures that looked like they were writhing in pain.

Dragomir was not a vain man. Some people had called him handsome. A one-night stand had told him that he was gorgeous “underneath all that beard” and “rough manners.” He was not sure if it was her eyes or his money talking. Not that he would pay women to warm his bed, but he presented a promise of wealth. In the last city he lived in, people knew he was worth a lot of money. Mercenary. A politician’s oversized lapdog. An assassin.

Perhaps it was why it was easy for him to shed money. He knew that most of it were dirty money. They said he was merely serving his country, but why did it feel terrible afterward? He could not scrub out the stench from his body no matter how hard he tried.

“That one. That mirror seems to be calling to me. You are not kidding, Mr. Tarus! Some objects seem to call on you,’ Dragomir laughed.

“I told you so, Mr. Kulic. There are things you will never be able to understand completely.”

As the old man set out to reach the mirror, Dragomir stopped him.

“I will do it, don’t worry.”

“Thank you.”

Then, he helped the antique shop owner wrap the gift in manila paper. The frame was not large, but it seemed heavier than he first thought it would be. For a big man like him, it was a big deal.

Dragomir thanked the owner of Curious and Curioser and headed on his way. Thankfully, the mirror could fit into his messenger bag. As soon as he secured it, he crossed the road to where his motorbike was parked. It was a Ducati Panigale V4, his pride and joy. His baby.

He sped through the night and only slowed down when he went into the dark alley where his apartment complex was. The bike had just come from the shop where he had it checked. There was nothing wrong with it. He just wanted it seen and cared for. It was pretty sad that the closest thing he had for a family was a vehicle – an expensive one, but still an object.

Inside his apartment, he tried to find a place to hang the mirror. He decided it needed to be showcased in the living room, not that he would have any guests in the near future.

He took a hammer and a nail. Then, he roughly pounded the nail onto the wall. He figured that the mirror would cover whatever cracks he made, anyway. Then, he affixed the mirror facing the door. It should be perpendicular to the doorway, his mind niggled at him. Dragomir had read somewhere, perhaps a feng shui book, that it was bad luck to have a mirror face any entrance.

But he was rebelling against all that.

What could possibly be worse luck than what he had already gone through? He sighed with satisfaction at what could be his classiest purchase so far, well aside from the one he sent over to Serafina Todd and the extra one he kept. He wondered what she thought when she saw the little packet with the jewelry.

Would she be pleased? Would she be disgusted with it? Wouldn’t she be heading over to his apartment throwing the necklace at him?

Dragomir did not know what to expect. Sure enough, there was a knock at his door – and yes, it was her.

“Yes, Miss Todd?” he asked, with a broad grin on his face.

“What’s the meaning of this?” she was clutching the necklace in one hand, which was raised right in front of his face.

“Well, it’s a gift.”

“I can see that. But why? Why would you give me a $2000 necklace?”

“Would you rather have the $5500 one?”

“Haha. Very funny!”

“Do you see me laughing, Miss Todd? I paid for that necklace with my hard-earned money.”

“Hard-earned!” she scoffed. “I want to know what it means. Why did you buy two necklaces, and why did you give me one of them?”

“You’ve been working hard. I know you are not used to -,” he faltered for the first time that night.

“Being poor? Yes, I am not used to it. But I am also not used to being bought,” she yelled.

“I am not trying to buy you. It’s just a gift.”

“Is it an apology? Hush money?”

“No. Just. A. Gift.”

Rafina threw the necklace on the floor by his feet. Dragomir had been expecting it, and he was not disappointed. Of course, she would do that. Atta girl! He vowed to keep the gold chain for her – when she was ready.

He closed the door. When he turned around, he gasped. He saw something through the mirror’s reflection – something had passed behind his back. He turned and did not see anything. He guffawed. What was going on with him? He just bought random expensive gifts for someone who hated him. Now, he was seeing things. What was going on?