Lance and Ecnal
All the way home from the visit to
Uncle Freddy’s house, Lance’s mother yelled and
yelled. Lance had been bad all day! When it was time to play, he ate. When it was
time to eat, he played. He fought constantly with his little sister, Mallory, and
every time anyone tried to hug him, he punched them in the stomach.
Lance’s mother was so angry that, when they got back, she made Lance go straight
to his room. She said he was bad -- everything about him was bad! -- and that he
couldn’t come out until he was ready to be good.
As his mother slammed the door and left, Lance grew very sad. He didn’t want to be
bad, but he just couldn’t help it. Crying, he looked at himself in the mirror.
Then, he noticed something very strange. His reflection wasn’t crying. His reflection
was smiling.
Lance approached the mirror, uneasily. "Why aren’t you crying, like me?" he asked.
"Because I’m not like you at all," his reflection replied. "You’re name is Lance.
My name is Lance spelled backwards -- Ecnal! You’re bad. I’m good! I’m the opposite
of you!"
Sniffling, Lance said, "If we switched places, everyone here would be much happier."
"We can!" Ecnal replied. "All you have to do is run at me, and I’ll run at you. When
we collide, we’ll trade lives. I’ll be there. You’ll be here! You ready?"
Lance nodded. Then, wiping away his tears, he stood up and ran full speed right at
his reflection. . . .
Hearing a crash, Lance’s mother ran to Lance’s room and opened the door. Seeing her
son lying in a pile of broken glass, she gasped, ran to him. "Lance! Are you all right?"
she said, hugging him tightly.
"I’m not Lance! I’m the opposite of Lance! I’m Ecnal!" he replied. And to his mother’s
surprise, he hugged her back.
Lance’s mother assumed that her son had just bumped his head, and was just a little
confused. She expected he’d be back to normal in the morning. But he wasn’t. The next
morning, he was still Ecnal -- the ideal boy. He did chores, homework, ate fruit and
vegetables, and only watched educational documentaries on television. He was courteous
to Mallory, full of compliments, affection. He no longer whined, complained, threw
tantrums or alienated other children. In fact, he even began to make friends all around
the neighborhood, becoming much more popular than Lance ever was.
All of this was very nice. Still, Lance’s mother felt uncomfortable. She appreciated Ecnal,
but he was a stranger. He wasn’t her son. One morning, watching him happily ironing his
clothes, she decided that she’d had enough. She called a psychiatrist and made an appointment.
After interviewing the boy, the psychiatrist pulled Lance’s mother aside and said,
"Lance is having an identity crisis. He is so convinced of his own worthlessness that
he has obliterated himself, replacing his old personality with that of his mirror image.
What you must do is this: Punish Ecnal for not being Lance! In doing so, you will make
Lance feel worthwhile again. Maybe then, he will return."
"If you say so," replied Lance’s mother. She wasn’t at all confident, but figured that
it was worth a try.
That weekend, the family, once again, visited with Uncle Freddy, except this time,
whenever Ecnal kissed a relative, he was scolded. When he complimented his aunt on
her wonderful cooking, he was told to be quiet, ordered to go play outside while everyone
else finished eating.
All the way home, Lance’s mother yelled and yelled. When they got back, she sent him
up to his room, insisting that everything about him was good -- and that he couldn’t come
out until he was ready to be bad!
Alone in his room, Ecnal burst into tears. He approached his brand new, replacement mirror,
and he addressed his reflection, completely bewildered.
"They hate me here! They want me to be like you!"
His reflection was smiling. "You want to switch back?"
"Sure," Ecnal replied. "Your mother’s really weird!" Then wiping away his tears, he
ran headfirst at the mirror.
Hearing a crash, Lance’s mother ran in. She tried to hug her son, but he punched her
in the stomach before she could.
"Lance, I’m so glad you’re back. I missed you!"
"Good," said her son, smiling slightly. "Now get out of my room or I’ll throw a tantrum!"
His mother smiled back. "Whatever you say, dear. Whatever you say."
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