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by Dee Geray
There stands a woman and she is being arrayed with fine clothes, a turban, a long flowing tan colored robe with two large pockets embroidered delicately, and a mask; the mask of Christ. The final touches of color are applied to the mask, imperfections are removed; she views herself in the mirror and is satisfied with the result. “Yes, what they have done is perfect” she thinks. The town is situated peacefully at the base of a mountain peak. Pine trees surround the town except for a barren rocky slope just beyond its borders, and the air has the characteristic freshness of high altitude. The temperature is crisp and yet the midday sun warms them. Across the valley another majestic peak juts up from the earth. Through the mirror, she is able to see the large power line, which extends from one peak to the other supplying them without limit. To her right, in the distance, is a long footpath above which dead wood is suspended in large bundles by rope on a wooden frame, its original purpose lost. The frame was, at one time, used to hold dangling grapes creating a beautiful canopy of vines, leaves and fruit. It provided protection from the hot summer sun for those who would wander under them. Within the walkway hang bundles of corn from the last harvest, still in their husks, ready for anyone to take and eat.
The sounds of the local people in celebration bring her attention to the task at hand. Now ready to participate, she turns toward them. She knows her role well. She spies a group sitting at a picnic table in conversation and moves to approaches them. Before she can, a man comes near to her and hands her several large unopened cartons of milk. A beautiful diamond wedding band is included in the transfer, which she fails to notice. Agitated with the delay, she mulls over why the man would provide her with this milk. It’s not part of the role she is playing and she has no desire to drink it. Not wanting to delay any further, she places the cartons in her large pockets, the ring falls in, and she moves on, without a word of thanks. When she comes upon the bantering group, they turn. She tells one in the group “God Bless you my Child” while placing her hand over their head. The scene is repeated with each person seated at the table. A soft smile and a look of hope appear on each of their faces as they receive their blessing. The woman is emotionless as she continues with her performance. The people, aware that someone wearing a mask is blessing them, say nothing.
As the celebration continues, they are disturbed by new sound in the air. A rumbling sound in the distance. All turn and view a plane swooping toward the valley. In full control, its course is direct and with purpose. It flies to meet the large power line that extends between the two mountain peaks. Its path unaltered; it snaps the line in two and continues on its way. The people in disbelief have no time to consider the event, as instantly the ground begins to shake. The atmosphere of merriment turns to panic as the quaking intensifies. People run to and fro. Their bodies are tossed about as rag dolls with each quake that occurs, unable to steady themselves with the fixtures around them. There is crying and yelling all around. The roads begin to buckle under the strain of moving earth, buildings fall as if they had been amassed by stacks of cards, and the sound of glass breaking is heard all around. The woman runs from the carnage toward the hillside. “If I get away from the roads and the buildings I’ll be safer”, she thinks. Her steps are tentative as the ground continues to move beneath her. She leaves the road in search of steady ground and clamors up the rocky hill. The turban is heavy on her head and the robe hinders her progress. Small rocks and sand pelt her body on their way from the mountaintop. She finds a larger rock and hides below it, praying for salvation from their onslaught. In the midst of the tumult, she views a shiny object partially buried under the dirt. Momentarily distracted from her plight, she retrieves it but discovers it is flawed and puts it back searching for another. The falling debris becomes larger and she again fears for her life. She runs back toward the village to escape.
One man had remained. She thirsts and recalls the milk he had given her and retrieves the cartons from her pockets. Her fingers feel the small object she had failed to notice before. She draws it out and discovers it to be a diamond wedding band. She places it on her left ring finger but after several attempts, realizes it won’t fit. The man, seeing her efforts, is silent. She notices his intent gaze and embarrassed, gives him a speedy excuse about how she was sure it was one she had had before. He remains quiet and she passes the ring to him. She opens the cartons and discovers that which was drinkable has become curdled and rotten. Sick to her stomach from the stench and site of the milk, she begins to retch. The man, outwardly unmoved by her condition, informs her that the mask she is wearing needs to be removed as it is eating her face. His comment strikes her as a lie. “I have no pain”, she thinks. She sees the mirror, now cracked, still hanging on a partially intact wall and makes her way toward it. The sight that confronts her is hideous and she steps back, startled by the truth of his words. The mask has become a grotesque heap on her face, its appearance pale and blotchy. Sagging on one side, she is able to see her once delicate skin beneath being destroyed as if acid had been poured on her. She works urgently to remove it, clawing, gripping, pulling, but it won’t come off. She wants to scream but can’t. In desperation, she begins to run again, she must get away, anywhere but here, anywhere, anywhere, anywhere… Her flight takes her under the bundles of hanging dead wood. She looks up and hopes they won’t fall on her as she makes her way. She sees the hanging corn. Elated to have found something intact and familiar, she grabs and opens one. The corn inside falls apart immediately.
She sobs uncontrollably as she comprehends that her masked world has been unreservedly exposed.
