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The Lonely Mask
by Terry Volkirch

Not long after entering the musty-smelling antique shop, walking across a creaking wooden floor, I found myself drawn to a small section of clothing and accessories, all neatly arranged on top of a long, rectangular table. That's when I first heard her call to me.

I looked down on the far corner of the table to see a young woman's face staring back at me through two eye holes. She beckoned to me to take her away from it all. Take her home. End her suffering. She didn't exactly talk to me. It was more a feeling, a very strong feeling, holding me captive.

Against my better judgment, I picked up the flesh-colored, thin rubber mask and held it closer to my face to admire the detail and realism. The feelings that it gave off suddenly went silent and I felt eyes watching me instead. The fine hairs on the back of my neck stood on end and an old man's voice startled me.

"That there's really odd," he said. "Ain't like no antique I ever seen. I'll let you have it for ten dollars. Be good to be rid of it. Seems to put people off… most people anyhow. Puts me off. That's for sure."

I turned to look down at him, seeing a short man with patches of unruly white hair, broad nose and ruddy complexion. I had trouble trusting anyone, especially someone trying to sell me something, but he seemed honest enough.

"I'll take it," I told him, acting on impulse.

"Ah. Good," he said. "Thank you, sir."

I quickly stuffed a hand in my pocket to retrieve my wallet, pulled out a ten dollar bill to hand to him and walked out of the shop with… her. I couldn't bring myself to refer to her as a thing. She had a definite feminine presence.

I walked along the street of the small town, holding her face-first against my coat and wondering if she had a name. She had to have a name, and if she couldn't somehow tell me, I'd name her myself.

The car ride home took virtually no time at all. The oak trees lining the narrow streets blurred together into orange leafy walls that ended at my driveway.

Just past the entry way to my modest rambler, I carefully set her face up on the back of my white couch and went off to shed my coat and forage through my nearly empty fridge for some lunch.

Several clinks of a metal knife in glass jars and I had what might pass for a meal in some third world countries. I added a banana and a glass of milk. Then I hurried back to my new friend, moving her to the end cushion and leaning her back against the arm of the couch to face me.

She kept quiet as I ate. I could detect only a slight curiosity as she looked passed me to see what she could see around the living room. Don't ask me how I knew that, or how she could even see. Just repeat after me: Truth is stranger than fiction.

My eyes remained firmly on her, tracing the outline of her oval face and full lips. Her high cheekbones caught my eye next, followed by her delicate button nose, the perfect center for a beautiful masterpiece. When I noticed her sculpted eyebrows and eyelashes, I nearly choked on my food. The hairs looked real. The whole mask looked like someone peeled off a woman's face from her head and kept it perfectly preserved. I probably should've been disturbed, but I wasn't; not in the least.

Who are you? Where did you come from?

I didn't expect an answer and I didn't get one, not directly. I just felt a vague feeling of contentment intermingled with cautious optimism.

"You need a name," I told her, speaking out loud since she seemed almost like another person to me. "I don't suppose you have one written somewhere in tiny print on the back."

There was nothing on the back of the mask other than smooth, flesh-tone latex. I noticed one odd thing though. The closer I moved the mask to my face, the happier she seemed to get.

"What?" I asked her. "You want me to wear you? Are you kidding?"

I dropped her on the couch like a hot potato. Real men didn't wear masks to make them look like women.

A strong wave of disappointment hit me, followed by a lingering feeling of yearning. This was too weird.

I ended up hanging the mask on the wall in the hallway. Hanging her in my bedroom would be too distracting and she didn't fit the decor in my living room. Sadness tickled the back of my mind whenever I walked past her but I refused to give in. I wasn't going to wear her.

Halloween rapidly approached and my work alternated between boring and stressful, typical of office work in big corporations. I preferred the stress though. Idle times led to thoughts of my mask and her increasingly hopeful outlook. It was like she knew the time of the year and knew people commonly dressed up in costumes to celebrate. She must have thought she had a better chance of being worn. Too bad for her when the time came and she remained hanging on the wall.

I'd get home from work and pass by her in the hall several times before settling on my beloved couch, reading some good fiction and sipping some hot chocolate while I waited for my dinner to cook.

I almost felt sorry for her but I didn't have enough room in my heart for such sentiments. I had enough problems of my own with a virtually non-existent social life. With no close friends, I had no one to talk to about the mask. I had no one to talk to about anything.

My coworkers wouldn't believe me about the mask. Neither would my parents. They lived too far away and I figured I'd have to have my mother try it on to believe me. Actually, after thinking about it, I thought it might not be a bad idea to find a woman to wear it. That perked me up — until I realized it'd be impossible.

"Excuse me, miss. Would you try on this mask for me?"

I could just see how that would go over. She'd run away, screaming and texting the police. Who would blame her?

I looked up from my book since I couldn't focus enough to read it. From my vantage, I could just make out my recent purchase in the dim hallway, and I could feel a little trickle of pity. I wondered if it was for her or me.

It was early on Halloween. I was getting ready for work and I thought I heard someone humming a tune. It seemed to be coming from the hallway. No way.

I walked down and sure enough, the mask was humming to herself. It was actually audible, not just in my mind.

"Can… can you talk?" I asked her.

I swear the corners of her mouth turned up ever so slightly into a faint smile but in the dim light, it was difficult to tell. I hurried back to my bedroom to throw on a dress shirt and socks. I couldn't get out of my house fast enough.

At work, it was obvious to everyone that I had other things on my mind. A few people expressed some concern and I just shrugged them off like I did everything else in my sad, lonely life. My coworkers soon gave up on me and I counted the hours as they ticked off on the old analog clock that hung in my cubicle.

At three in the afternoon, my boss paid me a visit. He was a nice young man, married with two young children. He had a life and I could almost work myself up to be envious. He dressed up as a vampire — the modern television version as opposed to the original, Count Dracula — and startled me when he flashed his fangs and spoke. "Hey there, David. Why don't you go home for the day? Go find a costume party or something."

"I still have this market analysis to finish but I'll go home soon," I lied.

He nodded sadly, realizing I had no intention of leaving early. I normally worked long hours, substituting life with work, especially when I wanted to avoid a certain someone or something at home.

I went back to my private pity party and continued counting the hours.

When the lights automatically turned off at work, I took the hint and shut down my computer. I couldn't see very well in the dark but I managed to find my coat hanging nearby on the back of my cubicle wall. There was more than enough emergency lighting to find my way to the stairwell and trudge slowly down four flights of stairs. The elevator would be too quick. I wanted to make my commute take as long as possible, even though traffic had to be moving well at the late hour.

The digital clock in my car flashed 10:33 pm in bright green digits as I turned the key in the ignition. The engine in my old, reliable Saturn started and I slowly drove out of the parking garage, wondering about the strangest things. No matter how hard I tried, that mask invaded my thoughts, pushing her way through all road blocks and floating in my imagination, demanding attention.

"Nice trick," I muttered. "But I still won't wear you."

"Are you sure?" the image in my mind asked.

I blinked several times in rapid succession. "What the hell?!"

"Come on," she continued. "You didn't think I'd let you waste the rest of your life, did you?"

"But… but…."

"Just get home. I've waited… we've both waited long enough. Don't even try to deny it. I'm lonely. You're lonely. Let's do something about it. Wear me!"

I slammed on the brakes and skidded sideways into a plastic recycle bin that someone had placed too close to the curb. My car windows began fogging up as I hugged my steering wheel and hyperventilated.

"Don't be such a drama queen," the mask said. "Take some deep breaths and get your ass home. Please! It's getting late."

Her last comment snapped me out of it. She sounded a little desperate and I had to ask her. "What's the hurry?"

I almost saw her roll her eyes. Impossible. I know. Then she spoke again. "Yes. There's a time limit. We've got until midnight to work this out."

"Work what out? What's there to work out? I'm not wearing you!"

"Will you just stop. Stop talking, I mean, and drive home. We can discuss this like rational adults when you get here."

I looked around and saw a dog barking at me from the window of a nearby house. Rational adults, she said. She was a mask. And me? I was an idiot. I had to be an idiot because I actually listened to her and started driving home.

"Hi Honey! I'm home!" I called after getting the door and flipping on the hall light.

"Very funny," the mask said. She still hung in the hallway but I saw her twist as if to try looking back at me.

I threw my coat on the back of my couch and marched down the hallway, stopping briefly to grab her before marching back to my couch. I placed her against the arm and flopped down to face her. "So?" I said. "What's to discuss?"

She smiled. "It's All Hallow's Eve. You're a person. I'm a mask. Person wears mask on All Hallow's Eve. Person has fun."

"That's a nice story. What's it got to do with me? I never have fun."

"Yes, and that's the problem. I can help give you a life, if you let me."

"Not happening."

"I won't bite! Look!" She opened her mouth to reveal… nothing. "I don't have any teeth. I'm just a mask."

"A freaky talking mask."

"Bite me!"

"Tempting, but no. I'm not putting you anywhere near my face."

"Oh!"

"Put yourself in my place," I told her. "Would you believe someone you barely know if they made incredible promises?"

"What difference does it make?" she asked, suddenly sounding and looking morose. "I always fail. No one ever wants to wear me. I don't know. Maybe I try too hard." She started making sounds like she was crying, though no tears rolled down her cheeks.

"Hey. Don't be that way. I admit you've made my life more interesting, especially today."

She continued to cry.

"Okay. Okay. Tell me this. What exactly happens if I wear you?"

She perked up a little. "Your face changes to match mine. You'll have a real woman's face."

"What? For the rest of my life?"

"No. Not really. Not if you don't want me."

"So I can take you off any time I want?"

"Basically. On Halloween, you can't remove me until midnight. But any other day and you can take me off any time you like."

"This is crazy." He stared at the mask, wondering what it would be like to have her face. "I'd look ridiculous with your face and my body."

"I agree. That's why we should start you on estrogen as soon as possible."

I sprang back off the couch staring at her in horror. "What?! Whoa! Hold it right there."

"Sorry," she said. "I got a little ahead of myself. I expected a woman to eventually buy me, not a man. You've complicated things. But we can still be happy together. Can't we?"

I just stared at her with my mouth hanging open.

"I guess not," the mask said. "You might as well tie me to a large rock and throw me in the ocean then. I doubt you'll be able to destroy me since no one else has managed it. I'd rather not go through this again so please, do me a favor and dispose of me."

I stopped staring and looked a little guilty. She might be a freaky mask but at least she sounded as if she meant well. She didn't seem evil. I always thought of myself as a good judge of character and she didn't throw up any serious warning flags. She just sounded a little desperate. Who wouldn't be desperate if they were reduced to being a mask?

"Okay. I guess…."

"Yes?" The mask said, sounding quite hopeful.

"I guess I can try wearing you. It'll be midnight in just under an hour. I'm not promising any hormones but I can try you that long at least."

"Oh! Thank you! Thank you so much."

I gently picked her up in both hands and ever so slowly moved her towards my face. I reached out with my feelings and sensed only great joy coming from her. There was no hint of malice so I continued until the inside of the mask touched my skin. The mask joined with my face, blending with and molding it until I looked exactly like the woman who the mask was supposed to represent. Only the eye color was different, although that didn't really matter. Just the fact that she could see properly again through my eyes was enough.

"Our… my name is Elizabeth." She looked around at the small, cozy living room and smiled. "I think I'm going to like it here."

The midnight hour came and went as I experimented with gel to get my hair to better match my feminine face. After I found a style I could live with for a couple days, I attacked the closet and drawers, looking for suitable clothes to go out in. Baggy sweats could hide my lack of curves and still drape well enough to show I was slender. I could fake the curves later, after I hit the stores. A wig would be nice too, preferably human hair.

I hoped his bank account could handle my needs. From what I understood of my host's memories, it looked like I'd have more than enough for all of our needs. That was good because we had a lot of needs and some of them were quite expensive.

As for David, I didn't lie to him. He could go back to his humdrum self any time he wanted. He just didn't want to. When we joined, he gained access to all of my thoughts and plans for us, and he… relented. Actually, he was more than a little relieved. He needed a life and I was going to get him one — get us one.

I was part of a package deal, which was fine. David couldn't do this on his own. He'd need my guidance and I was happy to give it. I gained just as much as he did in this deal. We were a team, and we'd never be lonely again. We had each other.

David would take the mask off and go back to his old face for work. We'd need the money. But when he got home, I'd take over and continue our project.

"Don't worry, David," I said, knowing he could hear my thoughts but vocalizing anyway. I wanted the practice making my voice sound more feminine. "I've got everything under control. Just sit back and watch us blossom."

It was too bad my throat didn't change along with my face but I knew there were ways to help with that. Hormones and surgery could do wonders in this modern era. Thank goodness for that. They didn't have anything like it when I was first created.

I was forged in magic and it looked like I'd be completed by science. Science was the new magic and I couldn't wait to see how it all turned out. I had a good head start with a beautifully feminine face. I just needed a body to match. In the meantime, I had friends to make and a life to build.

Bye bye mask. Bye bye loneliness. Hello happiness. I think I'm gonna thrive. Bye bye old life, goodbye.

 © 2013 by Terry Volkirch. This work may not be replicated in whole or in part by any means electronic or otherwise without the express consent of the Author (copyright holder). All Rights Reserved. This is a work of Fiction. All the characters and events portrayed in this book are fictional and any resemblance to real people or incidents past, present or future is purely coincidental.