The Mask Maker Read Online Free Page A

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