Like Looking in a Mirror

Kevin looked dazed when he sidled into the office forty-five minutes late for Rich’s recently concluded mid-week meeting.

“Where have you been?” asked Steve.

“Parking garage.”

“Why? Rich was seething that you weren’t there to give your report on the Layman project…”

“I just saw my doppelganger.”

“Excuse me?”

Kevin continued to shuffle along, oblivious to Rich’s furious gaze from his glass office, and eventually perched himself in his cubicle, feet tapping nervously against the carpet. Steve looked down on him as he hovered over the divider between their work spaces.

“Come on,” prodded Steve. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“Not a ghost, a — “

“Doppelganger, yeah. So what? I’ve seen people who look like people I know before. One time when I was in Rome I saw this girl who looked just like Julie, but get this…she had green hair.”

Kevin didn’t laugh. He remained trapped in his fog of fear. Steve returned to his seat on the other side of the divider and went back to his open spreadsheet.

“It was on River Street,” Kevin said. Steve rolled his chair out of his cubicle. Kevin was staring at a black screen.

“The doppelganger?”

“I was driving in to work. Stopped at a red light, waiting for the people in the crosswalk to finish clearing the road before the light turned green, adjusting the radio to find a good song, and as I look up…there he is.” The little color remaining in Kevin’s cheeks evaporated.

“Kev, come on, you’re kinda freaking me out.”

“He looked just like me. And not in a ‘from far away he looks kind of similar’ way. It was like looking in a mirror. Right down to this birth mark on my neck.” He pointed to a brown stretch of skin seeping up from his collar.

“That’s not a birthmark. It’s just a large freckle.”

“My mom always said it was a birthmark. But that’s beside the point.”

“Fine. What did your doppelganger look like? And don’t just say ‘like you.’ What was he wearing?”

“A blue leather jacket.”

“A blue…?”

“That’s right. Like, midnight blue, I guess. With gold buttons and zippers. Just like the night sky.”

“That’s kinda cool. Wish I had one of those. Anything else noticeable? Shoes? Glasses?”

“I didn’t see anything below his knees. He had on dark jeans, a Batman t-shirt, no glasses. But his face…” Kevin’s tapping sped up.

“Kevin, seriously, let it go.”

He turned to Steve. The shock had begun to wear off and turn to annoyance. It wasn’t a look Steve had seen on Kevin before. It went beyond minor irritation. This was fully harnessed frustration at not being taken seriously.

“You don’t get it, Steve. You weren’t there. He smiled at me. Like he knew who I was and what we were to each other. He knew. It’s one thing to see someone who looks similar to you. Then it becomes a weird ice breaker story you can tell. But seeing someone who looks one hundred percent like you — hair style, skin tone, gait — it’s not right.” Kevin turned inward again.

Steve rolled his chair back to his cubicle to let Kevin stew. He wasn’t going to talk any sense into him now. As Steve repositioned himself, the overhead lights caught his hazy reflection in the monitor. It seemed to look back at him knowingly. He shook the mouse quicker than he normally would have to banish his shade.