“It was—” Paco began, when I finished, “It was done without trouble.”
Paco’s startled gaze tapped mine, surprised I had spoken before his father. I nodded. “Pacodid a fine job. You should be proud.”
Lying to Paco’s father was wrong, but I could not bear to see the disappointment on his face.
The deer’s body slipped around my shoulders and fell to the ground. I dusted off my bloody hands and noticed the tremors in them. They wanted nothing more than to be cleansed of blood and feel my gloves again.
Mother appeared at my side, and the two of us walked to the riverbank to wash the blood from my skin before it set.
“You have a fight within you, but a paper heart. This will be your downfall,” Mother said knowingly in English when it was only the two of us.
“Paper?”
Long blonde hair slipped from behind her ear when she pulled off the hood of her cloak. She rushed toward me and shoved my chest with all her force.
I took a step back, and Mother scowled.
“Do not crumble, Stone. Do not step back. You’re bigger than me, stronger than me, and could easily have overpowered me. The only reason you took a step back is because I’m a woman.” She firmed her jaw, a scold in her eyes. “Your heart is weak. Paper.”
The grain sack felt heavier. “A woman and my mother.”
“This should never matter. The only person you must protect is yourself. You cannot back down to anyone. Not even a woman, not even me.” She turned and started walking again. “Protecting Paco does him no favors. You’re only enabling him. He needs to learn, and you need to remember to keep quiet,” she said with her nose in the air. “Invisible and invincible, remember? Be stone, not paper. It’s the only way you will survive in a world full of people who will only disappoint you.”
I turned away from her.
“You’re right,” I admitted, avoiding her disapproving eyes but still imagining them. “I won’t do it again. I won’t speak to them again.”
After we approached the stream, I crouched, cupped water into my palms, and splashed it onto my arms and neck, scrubbing my hands raw. In the water’s reflection, a large grain sack stared back at me, making my head look thrice its size. Beside it, an intensity marred Mother’s face. I lowered my head, the weight of my reality suddenly weighing on me. It could only mean one thing.
“How much longer until we leave this time?”
In all our travels, we had never spent this amount of time in one place. Before long, we would be moving on to the next village, the next tribe. We looked for spirited people in a small community rather than a flourishing city crowded with those who could fall victim to me.
Mother had exchanged her cooking talents for shelter, and I had offered my hunting skills for acceptance onto their land. After some time, people always questioned the grain sack on my head. They always demanded answers as to why I could not show my face and why I wore gloves on my hands in the summertime. Even so, I knew never to remove my shields.
Their questions warned that it was time to flee before they forced Mother’s hand, demanding her to show them the terrifying black abyss swirling beneath the sack.
My face, as Mother had explained, was cursed, and whoever looked at it would succumb to their deepest fears before falling to their death. Just the same, there had never been a time when I’d seen myself in a reflection because there was a possibility the curse could claim me, too.
Death was supposed to be a natural part of life’s cycle. Rather, the death I caused was a fate so cruel and unlawful, and my face’s only hunger.
“It’s the fault of your grandfather,”she had once said, but this always preceded a period. The end of the subject. She’d never spoken of his or my father’s name, should I have one. Of course, there were times when I imagined a father and what he looked like. I’d drawn his face, certain that if I could find his, I could find my own.
Only a blank face ever stared back at me.
My heart was not rigid or hollow. There was something there.
I’m capable of more. I have more to offer.
But I was unsure as to whatmorerepresented.
Mother reached into her dress pocket and offered my gloves to me. “They’re starting to ask questions. We should move on now that winter is coming to an end. It will be easier for us to travel.”
I slipped my hands inside and nodded despite disappointment creeping into my chest. Paco had become my only friend. A person who had never questioned the oddity of my mask.
Alas, the disappointment was my fault.
I knew better than to form attachments.
