The Mask Maker (3 page)

"Is there any chance that I could see what you've done?" After I said it, I was worried that I was going to scare him off again. Not that long ago, I had been frightened about seeing him, but not anymore; he was nice and he was adorable. The fact that his mask work was fascinating to look at didn't hurt matters either.

He raised his eyebrows, a surprised look on his face. "You'd actually like to see what I'm working on?"

"Well, yeah. I mean, if you're alright with showing me. I don't want to intrude on your process or anything."

"No! That's alright. Feel free to follow me back to my workshop. I'm just not used to people wanting to actually see what I do," he said, motioning for me to follow him while he walked back behind the gap.

Passing through the row, we came into a circular room that didn't have walls, but cabinets that held more masks. There was a small desk with a candle sitting off to one side. The rest of it was littered with small tools, wood chippings, and a rather large chunk of wood that had been partially whittled down to form the basis of a face.

"Sorry about the mess. Like I said, not used to having visitors who want to see what I do for work," he said, brushing aside some of the trimmings.

"Looks a lot cleaner than where I've had to be for the past few days," I said, thinking about sweating out in the field.

"You're a student of Perry's?" he asked, motioning to my cloak.

"Yeah, I am. This thing is kind of like a bull's-eye, isn't it? Let's everyone know exactly who I am and what I'm up to," I said, taking it off and folding it over my arm.

"I know the feeling." He it was almost whispering. "Well, now. Maybe you can help me. I was hoping that I would have a bit of luck and get some inspiration for this one, but nothing ever came." He pointed to the block on his desk.

"What a coincidence," I said, "my name's Luk."

He stopped and looked at me for a second, squinting at my face. "Luk?"

"That's what they call me."

"I knew it was you." He said, reaching into his desk and pulling out the piece I had carved for him the night before. Although I was hesitant to make it for him, I had decided that a large and bulbous slug with cartoonish eyes would be the optimal gift, though it looked comical resting in his hand.

Alexander remembered me. "And I knew it was you, too."

His eyes looked me up and down a few times, examining me. "It's a good thing that you're here then."

He sat the sculpture on his desk and smiled at it. From where I was standing, I could see the note I had written to him that read, "With some luck, I'll see you again." It was a cheesy thing to say, but it seemed perfect when I had been sleep deprived.

"Why's that?" Why could he possibly need me here?

"It's your mask that I can't seem to figure out."

Alexander used his thumb to point to a shelf behind him, where a collection of five masks were on display. Each of them was in the shape of an animal, which was the traditional custom of every Festival of Parth. Each candidate for graduation was given a mask that the maker deemed to be a proper representation of that person.

"I've got one for every other member of your class, but you were the complicated one," he smiled weakly. It was his attempt at a joke.

"Out of morbid curiosity, which one of these belongs to Pat?"

He immediately reached up and plucked one from the shelf that was in the style of a confused looking donkey.

"That looks about right," I laughed.

"Yeah, Perry had some choice words about him. Plus, I've heard how much he likes to talk about me. The stories he likes to tell. It'd almost be hilarious if it wasn't so sad that he actually believed them."

For a second, I thought about excusing myself and leaving. I suddenly felt very sick for not telling Pat off the day before. He was obviously an idiot, and I was an idiot for even listening to anything he said.

"I'd say that you're not alone on that one," I croaked out.

"You don't have to be so nervous around me."

"What?"

"I can tell that you're uncomfortable. You don't have to be. We're just two people talking, right?"

"Yeah, you're right," I said and tried to relax a little bit. Things were running a lot smoother than they had the day before.

"Perfect. So, maybe this will start off a little easier since we know each other. Let's just work from there." He smiled at me again and this time I smiled back.

"I'm sorry if you got in trouble for what happened that day," I said as he offered me a chair.

He paused as he pulled a stool to sit across from me. "You're very polite to apologize for it. You didn't do anything wrong to show me a little kindness. Besides, if I had any hard feelings about it, then the slug would have made up for it all anyway. He's pretty cute."

I blushed and quickly blurted out something to change the subject. "You mean your father didn't show you kindness?" It was a stupid thing to ask him, but I was curious. The one experience I had had with his father hadn't been pleasant. What could he have possibly been like behind closed doors?

Fortunately, Alexander laughed. "My father was not a happy man. I know that might come as a shock, but I'm pretty sure that he scared anyone who came in contact with him. If he wasn't so good with what he did, there's no way this shop would have ever been a success." He bit his lower lip as if he wanted to say more but cut himself off.

"What do you mean by that?"

"He didn't like me talking to other people, for starters. He blamed me for a lot of things that happened in his life." Studying my face, he picked up the wood and a carving tool and began to shave away pieces on it.

"That's not very fair. If he was acting like that when I first met you … You couldn't have been that old to begin with."

More chunks of wood fell to the floor. "At that time? I would have been  about ten, I think. But he hated me before that." There was a moment of silence between us before he sighed. "He blamed me for my mother's death. She died during childbirth so in his messed up world, it had to be my fault. To him, I was nothing more than the person who killed his wife. He couldn't stand me." More wood shavings fell to the floor.

"But that's not fair to you. How could that have been your fault?"

"I don't know. I really don't know."

"Alexander." He flinched when I said his name.

"Sorry, just really not used to people addressing me."

"You know that it wasn't your fault, right?"

"I do now. It took me a few years." He paused while he changed out his tools, making indents in the wood. "That wasn't my fault, but the other stuff might be."

"What other stuff?"

"There were plenty of things that I did that my father hated. He hated how I kept my hair long, how I would go days without speaking, how I would watch the neighborhood guys." I waited for him to continue, watching as he closed his eyes and took a few breaths. "Luk, I'm gay. I knew I was gay from a very early age and I was open about it with my father. One day, he asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up and I told him that I wanted to be a husband to another man. Well, that just set him off. He kept asking me what I was talking about and why I would say something like that. I was fourteen. I mean, at fourteen it seems perfectly plausible that I could marry another man. I'm sixteen now and it still feels like maybe one of these days I might actually marry someone if I ever manage to get out of here."

His hand trembled as he spoke and it looked as if he was struggling not to cry. Without realizing what I was doing, I leaned forward and grasped his free hand. It tightened under my gentle grip, as though he wanted to pull away, but he eventually relaxed.

"It's okay, Alexander. I mean, between you and me, I've never much fancied girls. A husband doesn't sound like such a bad thing to me." I hadn't told many people that before, but it felt good to let him in on something that was so personal to me.

He looked up and smiled at me. "What?"

"I'm gay, too."

"Well, that's refreshing." His expression softened again. "I mean, not that there's anything wrong with Lady Chuff. Well, aside from the fact she's always cooking cabbage." That explained the smell. "But it's nice to talk to someone I have some things in common with." He winked at me and went back to his work. He had more confidence than I thought.

"Speaking of which, did you ask her to come by my house this morning for any particular reason?" I winked back at him and felt goofy for doing it. The guy who never got out of the house was more comfortable with flirting than I was.

He snorted. "I wasn't even sure if I was sending her to the right house. I described you to her and she seemed to think it was you." His hands were faster, chiseling away at the block in front of him. "Nice woodwork you did."

I blushed. "I didn't know what to do. It was the only thing that came to mind."

"Well, I think that he's pretty cute for a slug." He smiled at me and I smiled back.

"He's certainly not as cute as you," I said. It was his turn to blush.

We continued to talk for another hour, learning more about each other with each passing sentence. I learned that, much against Pat's beliefs, Alexander was actually a fairly well liked member of the community. He liked his privacy, and the more grownup citizens respected that. Lady Chuff would go to the market and drop his groceries off for him in exchange for morning tea. He was filled with similar stories—of the older people who were more than willing to help him after the death of his father. Somehow over the years, stories had started about Alexander that had no truth.

Alexander went on to tell me about the death of his father, speaking of it as if he was ordering a sandwich. His heart had simply failed him one night in his sleep. The coroner had carried him away before the morning broke, and Alexander didn't see much daylight after that. He kept to himself and he grew ever more mysterious to the children who passed his shop.

"I can't believe you started running this place at fourteen." I was in awe.

"I had to. I had to make some sort of money to keep going. Plus, it helps that I like what I do. It's peaceful to create something."

"And you're really good at it." I moved my arm and felt my cloak rustle on it, reminding me of my duties for the day. Groaning, I said, "I've got to go. We're supposed to have practice for the festival."

"Well, that'll be fun. I mean, you're getting to practice magic," he said.

 "It's not as fun as you might think. There are rules for everything," I said, standing up. "Plus, some of the people I train with are just awful."

"The donkey?" He asked. I nodded. "Well, I hope you have fun, at least. I'll be here, working." He seemed a little down.

I paused, unsure if I should suggest what I was thinking. "Maybe I could stop by afterwards? If you'd be alright with that."

"I would love it if you stopped by."

Walking out of the shop, I noted that I had never seen him that happy.

The same could not be said for me as I made it to the field. I was running late and everyone was already assembled on the finished stage. It was a massive wooden structure with red curtains adorning the sides. I made my way to the stairs, slipping my cloak on, and taking my place with the other guys. Fortunately, Perry was not there yet.

"Look who decided to show up." It was Pat. Again. He was never quiet.

"Where have you been?" A smaller boy named Nip asked.

I shook my head. "Don't worry about it."

"Oh, we shouldn't worry about it? That's funny, because I heard that you went back to the freak's shop this morning. Actually, I might have seen that with my own eyes. If I didn't know any better, I'd say that you two were in love," Pat said, a twisted smile on his face.

"Why don't you shut up, Pat?" I was starting to get angry. So what if I had been talking with Alexander? I liked him.

"So it's true then. Luk and the freak."

Had Pat said anything else, I feared I might not have been able to control myself, but then I heard Perry lumbering up the steps and I calmed down.

"Morning, boys. Alright, let's get this practice over with so we can all go home and get out of this heat," he said, pulling his robes around in a fanning motion and pacing in front of us.

"Can we have dueling practice?" I asked, my eyes locked on Pat.

There were strict rules about how magic could be used. One such rule stated that no one was allowed to use it to inflict harm upon another individual. Duels, though, were not prohibited as long as two or more people agreed to it and no one died. Of course, if someone died, they can't be held accountable and hardly anyone ever died anyway.

"Erm, are you sure about that, Luk? We haven't had those in a long while." Perry fidgeted as he spoke. "Besides, I don't feel like it's something that would come up on your graduation exam, if you know what I mean."

"I'm absolutely positive. I'd like to challenge Pat," I said and watched the color drain from Pat's face. "Unless, of course, he's too scared to go up against me."

Nip spoke up. "He's not scared. Pat can take on anyone, especially a freak lover."

Perry grumbled. "Alright, how about it then, Pat? But you two know the risks associated. I'm not going to be held responsible because of this."

"I'm willing," Pat said, though he didn't sound at all confident.

"Boys, step back. Have to give them some room. Don't want to get hit by a runaway spell."

The group dissolved, leaving only Pat and myself facing each other. We each took several steps backward, leaving a good deal of space between us. My mind briefly trickled over any sort of dueling magic that I could remember. Perry was a good teacher, but he hadn't been keen on teaching us how to duel. I was going to need some luck to win.

"Everyone knows the rules, I'm sure. You will wait until my signal. When the signal is given, you can hit each other with as many jinxes, hexes, and curses as you can possibly think of until one person admits defeat. And remember, if anyone should hit the other after surrender, that person will be immediately declared the loser." Perry said the last part directly to Pat. "Do you all understand?"