The Mask Maker Read Online Free PDF Page B

awoke in his shop, my head spinning with the thoughts of the night before. Alexander was pressed up against me, tossing lightly in his sleep. I leaned down and gently kissed his cheek.
    "Is it morning so soon?" He asked, not opening his eyes.
    "Only if you want it to be."
    "As long as you're still here, it can be morning."
    "Aren't you sweet?" Opening his eyes, he stuck his tongue out at me. "Always with the tongue." Not that it was a bad thing.
    "Bad habit. I'm glad you stayed last night."
    "Me too. Just not looking forward to tomorrow."
    "What's tomorrow?" He paused. "Oh, right. I need to finish your mask." He sat up in his small bed, stretching out.
    "Do you have a lot more work to do?"
    I followed him downstairs to his work area, still wrestling with sleepiness. "Not at all. I've just got to get your approval." He walked over to his desk and picked up the mask, showing it to me.
    "It's a lion," I said, taking it in my hands.
    "It seemed fitting to me. Majestic, fierce, protective, adorable. All good traits of a lion."
    "I love it. I really do." The mask was a work of art, each hair carefully detailed on the mane; the nose shaped perfectly; the blending of the fur making it look as if it could start roaring at any moment.
    "That's good to hear. You'll be great tomorrow."
    "I can't wait for you to see me tomorrow," I said, cradling the mask in my hand.
    Alexander began to wipe scraps off of his table. "What do you mean?"
    "Well, you are coming tomorrow, aren't you? To see me? And the rest of the festival, of course. There'll be unicorn races over at Newmar's Farm after the graduation. Not as exciting as the griffin races used to be, but safer and still entertaining."
    "What happened with the griffins?"
    "Too many injuries after last year. Apparently six is the magic number after they got loose from their pens. The operators this year figured unicorns would be nice to look at and keep people from being mauled."
    "Unicorns? Did you say unicorns?" He began rearranging masks behind me.
    "Yeah. You know, for the annual races? What's wrong?"
    "It's unicorns! I'm afraid of unicorns. Yes, I know that it's embarrassing, but that's me." His hands trembled as he continued to pick up around his area. "Oh, I don't know. It's that horn that they have. It's frightening, is it not? I mean, the things just look like they could impale you and then run off to some glade without so much as a second thought. I'd be a lot more frightened of being near a unicorn than I would be of riding a griffin."
    "Alexander, it's no big deal, alright? They're harmless, I promise."
    "Says you," he grunted.
    "Says everyone. I promise that I'll be right by your side for it. And we don't even have to go to the races, alright? We'll skip them. They're not that fun anyway. We can go do something else. Maybe you can come back to my place?"
    He sat down at his work chair. "No, Luk. I'm sorry. It was nice of you to think of me … to want me to be out there with you … to want to do things, but I don't think this will work out. It's best if I just stay here with the shop for right now."
    It felt as if my heart was sinking in my chest, dragging the rest of me closer to the ground. "This isn't about the unicorns, is it? You're scared of leaving here."
    "I don't know what you're talking about."
    "You just don't want people to see you outside of here."
    "Luk, when you've been stuck in here for as long as I have, you run out of good reasons to leave. Things are different in the daylight."
    "I thought that I was a good enough reason to leave." It hurt me to say it, but it hurt more to realize it.
    "That's not what I meant."
    "Maybe you'll have a while to think about what you meant."
    Leaving the shop was what hurt the most.
    *~*~*
    Preparing for graduation, I was struck by what had happened during the past few days. Meeting Alexander was something I would not change for anything. The fact that he wouldn't come to something that was important to me was something I couldn't