She Knew His Name Was Wendell

20250404

Prompt from DailyPrompt.com

The Hog And Bailey wasn’t a pub Wendy expected to have a mystical experience in. It was the quintessential rural pub which scraped out a living catering to travellers from the motorway. The locals had their own invisibly roped off areas enforced by piercing stares. But you weren’t liable to notice because the “outsider” seats were by the bar. Perfectly situated for you to come in, hand over money, and leave as quickly as possible.
Wendy had no intention of lingering. The map app said another four hours of driving, longer if she hit rush hour. She ate the club sandwich and chips on autopilot, asked for water with lemon to refill her bottle, and hurried to the loo.
It was a barren utilitarian space saved from being “dingy” by dint of much scrubbing and a too-bright bulb. Another “get done and gone” nudge which she resented despite it aligning with her aim.
As she scrubbed her hands, that “how to wash” jingle from mum echoing in her head, she looked up at the mirror to check her makeup.
And found herself staring at a man.
He froze, the familiar tune he was humming cutting out, and they both stammered apologies. Goodness, how could this happen, was this some terrible joke?
But no, the pub had only one loo. And surely any establishment with a trick mirror in the customer toilet would get shut down right sharp!
Then he gasped. “Oh! Ohh. You… are you really a girl? Are you who everyone thought I was?”
Wendy’s flustered gaze snapped back. Reassessing.
The man was her height, her colouring. His face… He could be her brother. Or…
She clutched the sink. “They thought you were a girl?”
“Yeah.” He gave that goofy grin she always hated, that she’d spent hours training away. “I mean, they just assume, y’know? I popped out and everyone went ‘girl’, and…”
Wendy leant forward, her voice cracking. “How d-did mum and dad… what did they say?”
His eyes widened and softened. “They were confused. Mum thought I was just taking feminism too far at first. That it was about the patriarchy, rather than me. We talked a lot. And she said she’d gone away and read a bunch. There was this poetry collection, damn, I can’t remember the title but the cover has pink and blue and white flowers and her favourite poem was something like ‘A New Dawn’?”
Wendy dove for her bag, fumbling out a pen and crumpled receipt to scribble on.
“You - she’s had a fall for you too, right?” He winced as she nodded. “I, I don’t know what you should do. But for my birthday dad made a fuss about taking me suit shopping for ‘guy time’, and mum ends every call ‘I love you son’, so-”
He was gone. The mirror held only her pinched face.
Wendy shakily tucked the receipt away. She had to go. Had to get driving.
She’d look up that book at the next rest stop.

Prompt was “A portal appears from a mirror in the bathroom at an old pub. Your character has ten seconds to decide what to do before it closes.”
[I didn’t stick to the ten seconds, but I felt this kept to the “far too short” ethos.]