Mina and the Star Key, Part 8: The Lake of Little Reflections

Mina and the Star Key, Part 8: The Lake of Little Reflections

The Story Begins

One evening, Mina was playing by the wall in the hallway when she noticed a thin silver line between two boards. It was a tiny crack she had never seen before.

The girl with dark, wavy hair took her little silver star key from her pocket. The key was cool, but then it gave a gentle gleam.

“A door again?” Mina whispered.

Piko landed on her shoulder. His golden wings rustled softly.

“Maybe a door. Maybe just a door pretending to be nothing,” he said.

Mina slipped the key into the tiny opening. Click. A small, plain door opened in the wall, low and round. Behind it was a soft blue light.

On the other side was a quiet lakeshore. The water was smooth as a great glass mirror. A thin moon shone above it, and the air smelled of damp sand.

Near the shore lay four little things. A round grey pebble. A white feather. A green leaf with a long point. And a small pinkish shell.

Mina crouched down to see them better. Then she looked into the water.

She blinked.

Beneath the pebble, the lake showed a feather. Beneath the feather, a green leaf rippled. The shell had the pebble’s reflection, and the leaf gleamed like a shell.

“The reflections are mixed up,” she said softly.

Piko floated a little higher and peered at the surface.

“The lake is very, very smooth today,” he murmured. “And when it is too smooth, it sometimes muddles what belongs where.”

“How do we fix it?” Mina asked.

The little golden guide tilted his head.

“Look with your eyes and your heart.”

That was all the advice he gave. Mina smiled. Piko sometimes knew a great deal, but said only a little.

First, she picked up the pebble. It was pleasantly cool and smooth. She held it over the water, just a little way from the shore.

“The pebble belongs with the pebble,” she decided, pointing to the grey reflection beside the shell.

The surface trembled gently. Tiny circles spread across it. Then everything went back to the way it had been.

“Hmm,” Mina said. “That was not it.”

She tried holding the shell by the pebble’s reflection. Again, the water only rippled quietly.

Piko pointed one wing at the pebble.

“Shape can whisper,” he said.

Mina put the shell back in the sand. She did not want to guess too quickly. So she sat back on her heels and simply watched for a while.

The leaf lay beside a thin blade of grass. Its tip was long and pointed. Right there, a green point flashed in the water, even though the leaf’s reflection was still somewhere else.

“Do you see it, Piko?” she whispered.

“I see a point. A very pointy point,” Piko nodded.

A few steps away, the shell lay in damp sand. Tiny grains clung to its ridges. In the lake, a pale pink curve gleamed in the same place.

Meanwhile, the wind stroked the white feather. The feather trembled. And right by the shore, two tiny ripples appeared on the water, as if they wanted to tremble too.

The pebble was grey and round, and it lay beside a little arch of stones. In the water, the same grey circle gleamed beneath that arch.

Mina opened her eyes wide.

“It is not about what is closest,” she said. “The lake shows what I am really looking at!”

Piko circled happily in the air.

“Ah. That is its rule.”

Now the girl did not look at everything at once. First she noticed the shape. Then the colour. Later, the movement and the place by the shore.

When Things Start to Change

She looked at the green point of the leaf, then straight at the green point in the water. Slowly, she pointed with her finger.

“This reflection is for the leaf.”

The surface chimed softly, as if a drop of light had fallen into it. The leaf’s reflection floated to the right place.

“One!” Mina said happily.

But with the feather, she was mistaken for a moment. She thought the tiny ripples belonged to the shell because the shell lay close to the wet sand. When she tried it, the lake only rippled calmly.

Mina did not frown. This time, she leaned a little closer, stood firmly in her red boots on the dry shore, and waited.

Just then, the wind blew again.

The feather trembled.

Two tiny ripples trembled on the surface.

“Oh! Movement,” she said. “The ripples belong to the feather.”

When she said it, the white reflection moved beneath the feather and stayed there quietly.

Only the pebble and the shell were left. Mina studied the grey arch on the shore. Then she looked at the pink gleam in the damp sand. She did not hurry. First, she found the pebble by its round shape and grey colour. At last, she matched the shell with the gentle pink curve.

At that moment, the little lake grew completely calm.

In the middle of the water, a tiny reflection of a star suddenly appeared. It sparkled for only a moment, but it was bright and silver, just like Mina’s key.

“I know this light,” she whispered.

Piko landed on a blade of grass, and his warm golden light reflected beside the little star.

“The lake remembers,” he said.

Mina watched the tiny star reflection until it slowly disappeared. It seemed to show her a path farther on. Not today. Perhaps another time.

Everything before her was reflected properly now. The pebble was a pebble. The feather was a feather. The leaf was a leaf. And the shell had its own little pink sister in the water.

“All done,” Piko smiled.

“All done,” Mina repeated happily.

Then the pocket of her yellow cardigan gleamed softly. The star key returned to her palm, and she carefully tucked it back into her pocket.

Together, they walked to the plain little door. Mina looked back once more. The lake was calm, and moonlight lay on the surface like a thin silver ribbon.

The door closed quietly behind them. And in her pocket, the little key waited warmly for the next evening.