The Mask That Sang (7 page)

chapter fourteen

“Oh!” Cass sucked in air so abruptly that her breath made a noise.

Suddenly she remembered Ellis laughing at where Degan's home was. Hadn't he said something about criminals being there?

“You're right, I guess. It's not a very happy place,” he said at last. “As a
place
, that is. There are some good people here, though. Like my aunt.”

“And you,” Cass said quickly.

She didn't know what to say after that. So they walked silently past the shabby houses, past kids playing on the sidewalks. They were laughing, running around. Kids could make fun anywhere.

Degan said quietly, “My aunt lives here because she says this is where our people need help the most. This is where we've become sick, some of us. Forgetting our roots, lost in the city. So she does healing.” After a minute, he added, “She helped my mom, before she died. And she helped me too, when I was a baby. She helped hide me so I wouldn't get taken and put into the foster system.”

“My mom was in the foster system,” Cass said softly.

Degan glanced at her. He nodded.

They reached some streets with stores on them. Along the narrow streets here, a few people stood around together in doorways or on the sidewalk curbs. They didn't exactly seem to be waiting, but they also didn't seem to have anything to do. Some talked and laughed.

“Degan!”

It was a young man, smoking. He waved. “You learn lots of stuff today?”

Degan nodded and waved back.

“You going to become a professor maybe?”

“Maybe,” Degan said.

The young man laughed, not unkindly, and other people laughed too.

It made Cass feel suddenly heavy inside, as if she was absorbing the atmosphere around her. There was an air of boredom all around, but also, maybe, something else. Something that hung over everyone and whispered about how there was no point in trying to do anything. Nothing would come to anything. Like life itself was a bully, and it was hard to get the energy to keep trying to fight back.

One of the men called to Cass, “You lost, honey?”

She shook her head, eyes down.

“You sure?”

Cass walked faster, while the men behind her laughed. Degan hurried up to walk beside her. They went on without talking for awhile.

Degan finally broke the silence. “Some people around here, they don't have jobs. Maybe they didn't finish high school, and they can't find any work. There's a lot of…sickness.”

“What kind of sickness?”

Degan was quiet for a long time again. “Mostly the kind you give to yourself,” he said at last. “And some you maybe pick up from other people. Maybe people like Ellis, who tell you you're not worth anything and then say they're joking.”

Cass was puzzled about the first part. “How do you give yourself sickness?”

Degan regarded her steadily. “You put things into you that aren't good for you, even though they make you feel better for a little while—that's what my aunt says. Your own thoughts can be sick too. My aunt says some of us have forgotten who we are. We have to heal in our minds and our spirits before we can change anything else around us.”

It was Cass's turn to walk silently. She didn't know what to say.

“I live down that street,” Degan said, pointing. “But we're going to keep going right now, because we're not done yet. What comes next in your dream?”

She thought hard. It burst into her mind, suddenly glorious.

“I—I climbed into the stars. Up into the sky.”

They both looked up at the scudding clouds overhead, as if a stairway might reveal itself. But only birds flew overhead.

Past the little houses, they met up again with the railway tracks. They followed the tracks farther, while the blank backs of big stores began to grow around them, and more cars began to shoot by on the increasingly busy roads.

The sidewalk petered away to nothing but weeds and ruts of mud here and there. They kept walking on the dirt, while the weeds grew longer and more awkward to push through.

At last Cass said, “I don't think this is right.”

So they walked between two of the big stores until they reached the large parking lot on the other side. Then they picked through hundreds of parked cars until they were on the sidewalk by the busy road. Several lanes of traffic shot by.

“What do you think?” Degan asked, looking at her again with respect. Like her opinion was to be taken seriously. And he was standing by her, loyal, while she made the decision.

“I think”—she looked at the cars whizzing by—“I think we walk this way.”

She took off to the right, and Degan hurried beside her.

Sometime later, the road climbed upward to accommodate another road running beneath. Cass and Degan kept walking along it, while the road sloped upward.

Inside, Cass was listening for the mask. It had been calling her thinly, but now other voices had joined it, and even the materials around her—the cement, the tar, the metal of the cars—seemed to be resonating in her mind somehow. The sounds were building, as if what she needed to notice was nearby.

She looked around. There was nothing but cars, racing by at a great speed, blurs of color and light.

Color and light.

Headlights.

She stopped, grabbed Degan's arm, as she realized the truth. “The stars! The headlights are the stars!”

She pointed to the cars. Here, at the top of the overpass, headlights shot by all around. It was what her dream had intended, she was sure.

“We're getting close,” she said, calm coming over her. “We're nearly there.”

They walked down the other side of the overpass and into another area with stores. Cass walked ahead carefully, listening for any changes in the sound, confident they would lead her now. The mask was very nearby.

“We turn here.”

Degan didn't even question her.

They soon came upon a building with a wide front porch and an arched doorway. Painted above the doorway were pictures of animals—a wolf, a deer, a turtle, some kind of bird, and others. Words were also painted there:
Turtle Island Healing Center
.

An aroma wafted out of the open front doors, where people were walking in and out. Cass suddenly remembered that she had passed a place of plenty and abundance in her dream, with sweet smells.

“Is it a restaurant?” Cass said.

“Nope. It helps people.” Degan spoke respectfully. “They do classes, how to find jobs, how to raise your kids, how to get over bad stuff. They have open dinners too. You can go there for a meal. My aunt does some healing circle work with them.”

The music was building in Cass now, insistent, pounding.

“It's close. Turn here.”

They turned the corner and came upon the store with the large glass window and the sign that read
Ray's Pawnshop
.

chapter fifteen

It was like a dream, but it was really happening. The mask was really here, really inside the pawnshop, Cass was sure of it.

In a daze, she turned the knob and pulled open the glass door. It jingled, a fact that barely registered in her mind. Her regular senses felt dulled, and other phantom senses inside her seemed to be engaging instead.

She and Degan stepped through the doorway.

The man behind the counter was looking at his phone. He had long hair and a beard and was leaning back in his chair. He sat upright when he saw them. He looked them up and down, his eyes lingering on Degan a bit longer than on Cass. As if there was something a little untrustworthy about Degan.

“Hey, kids,” he said. “Looking for something?”

“Just browsing,” Degan said. His face had taken on that neutral expression it had worn when Cass first met him. Closed suddenly.

“Backpacks up here,” the man said.

Cass and Degan put their backpacks on the counter.

“You got money, son?”

“Uh-huh,” Degan said.

“Show me.”

Degan pulled out some coins and a battered bill from his pocket.

“Okay,” said the man, waving them on.

They turned down the first aisle, and the singing inside Cass grew stronger and warmer. Like an animal following a scent, she lifted her head to hear it better.

Turn here
, the singers called.

And here
.

She was only dimly aware of Degan following her. The mask was just ahead, just around the next aisle.

She took a breath and walked around the last set of shelves. She closed her eyes, willing it to be there.

She opened her eyes.

The music burst in her head, for the mask was hanging there on the wall.

Cass gave a little cry and jumped forward. She couldn't stop herself. She ran her hands down that hair, along the line of the chin. The eyes didn't scare her now, nor did the distorted, half-smiling mouth.

“Here you are,” she whispered. “Here you are.”

She couldn't have said how long she was caught in that electric reunion. It could have been seconds or hours. But she was startled awake when Degan touched her shoulder gently.

“I have six dollars and forty-three cents,” he said. “Do you have anything?”

She shook her head to get the dizziness out. Then she felt inside her pockets, although she already knew the answer.

“No.”

“Let's find out how much money we need.” Degan's calm voice helped to fix her to the earth again.

Cass followed him to the counter. She realized that she had never thought about needing money. Somehow she had assumed that the mask would simply be coming home with her. But now she saw that the man would never release the mask that easily.

Degan stood awkwardly before the counter.

The man looked up from his phone. “Can I help you?”

Degan said in a clear voice: “The mask. In aisle four. How much is it?” His face twitched slightly, but he maintained a neutral expression.

“The Indian mask?”

Degan nodded his head slightly.

The man grinned. “What do you think it's worth?”

Degan looked down at his feet and thought for awhile. Finally, he looked up again. “I have six dollars and forty-three cents.”

The man laughed. “Is that what you think it's worth?”

Degan looked back at him. He shook his head at last.

“How much do you think it's worth?”

Degan whispered, “I don't know.”

Cass wanted to shout,
It's worth more than any of us could ever afford. It's worth so much that you can't even measure it in money. It's worth the sky and the earth and birds wheeling overhead.

But she simply stood quietly and waited beside Degan.

The man said at last, “Thirty bucks. If you have thirty bucks, I'll sell it to you.”

Cass's insides fell.

He might as well have said thirty million dollars. She and Mom didn't have thirty dollars to spare. Cass couldn't even imagine having thirty dollars.

“Could—could I work for you?” she asked in a small voice.

“Work for me?” said the man, grinning.

“I could—run errands, clean the shelves, put out garbage. Could I pay for the mask that way?”

Even in her own ears, it sounded feeble.

“It doesn't work like that. I don't employ kids. I sell things, and people pay for them.” He glanced down at his phone again. “Are you kids buying something today or not?”

They looked at each other.

“Could you—could you hold it for us?” Cass whispered.

The man shook his head. “If someone comes in five minutes from now, and they have thirty bucks to spare, I'll sell it to them. Because this is a business.”

Degan took a deep breath. He nodded to the man, face completely impassive. “Thank you. We'll be back very soon with the money.”

“Good to hear,” said the man, turning back to his phone.

™

A minute later, they stood on the sidewalk as the sky began to darken.

Inside Cass, a storm cloud was building, billowing upward. She felt locked up like the mask, separated from her family. Tears were pressing on the backs of her eyes, but she couldn't tell if she was unhappy or furious.

“I will never have thirty dollars,” she said dully.

Degan's voice was urgent. “We'll find it. We'll make money. I promise, we'll come up with something. Don't worry.”

Then she found that his arm was on her shoulder, and he was propelling her gently forward.

“I'll take you home. It's not far from here, just down King Street. The mask took us in a big loop. And tomorrow we'll figure out how to make money. We'll come back and we'll buy the mask.”

She let him lead her on.

She didn't notice the figure moving in the shadows across the street, the one watching her go.

chapter sixteen

“See you tomorrow.” Degan lifted a hand, then turned and blended into the darkness. Cass waved back, forcing a smile. But the tightness was still building in her. If the pressure got unbearable enough, what would happen?

She could still hear the mask singing with all of the voices of past and present, like a pulse behind her ears. Angry tears stung her eyes—the mask knew her, and she knew the mask. But it was not hers.

Cass wanted to yell, to kick something.

Instead she took a deep breath and walked slowly up the dirt driveway.

Inside, Mom was sitting at the kitchen table, hunched forward and peering at the computer screen. When Cass opened the door, she jumped up and hugged her. “Where have you been, my darling?”

“I met a friend,” Cass said. “Degan.”

Mom's eyes lit up with surprise and delight.

“Really?”

Cass nodded. She looked down at her feet. “We—we went for a walk. Just around.” She couldn't tell Mom they'd gone looking for the mask. She couldn't bear to see the guilty and sad look on Mom's face again.

She tried changing the subject. “How did it go today? Did you give out your résumés? Did you get any interviews?”

The sunshine faded out of Mom's face, although she smiled brightly. She sat down at the computer again.

“Yes, I gave them all out.”

“And?”

She looked up at Cass, tried to smile again. “Well, it's no big surprise. They all said I need to finish high school and get my diploma. At the very least. Most of them said they wanted a university degree. Which is kind of like saying I need to climb Mount Everest.”

Cass sat down beside Mom in the silence that followed.

“Well, couldn't you go back to school and get your diploma?”

Mom laughed, but not in a particularly jovial way. The sound was jarring. The mask's song in Cass's head stirred slightly, like ripples created by an object thrown into water.

“Hmm,” said Mom in an unfamiliar voice, shoulders hunched and head down. “Yeah, I could do that, my love. I could go back to school, as long as we don't want me to make any money.” She let out a shuddering breath.

Cass's insides quivered. Mom wasn't supposed to sound like that.

“The trouble with me,” said Mom, “is that I didn't finish high school when I could have. I had the chance, but I didn't take it. And now it's too late. You get caught in a cycle. You need money, so you find a job. But then you're unable to better yourself because you're working all the time.”

She sounded so flat, so matter-of-fact.

“What—what about night school?” Cass said tentatively.

Mom laughed again, without humor.

“I can't leave you alone all night.”

“Yes, you can.”

“No,” said Mom. “I can't. My job is to be your mom, to be responsible for you.” She looked up at Cass now. “That was the promise I made to you when you were first born, my love. For sure, I wasn't old enough to be having a baby, I wasn't even halfway through high school. But I was determined that I wasn't going to abandon you like my mom did to me. I was going to do everything I could to raise you as well as I could.”

Something was starting to build inside Cass. Something dark and angry, all mixed up with the voices in the mask.

“The system,” said Mom quietly, “is against me. I did that to myself, though. So tomorrow I'll get something. Washing dishes or cleaning.”

She pushed the chair back, stood up, and began to rummage in the cupboards in preparation for dinner.

Cass was tingling all over with electricity that she couldn't control. Everything was building in her to the point of explosion.

Suddenly angry words gushed out of her.

“I'm the reason why you didn't finish high school. That's what you're saying. I stopped you from having a good life.”

Mom was staring at her in shock.

“If you'd never had me,” Cass said in a cold, shaking, furious voice, “it would have been better for you. I ruined everything.”

She hated the words, hated hearing them, hated saying them, hated how Mom's face turned pink and white and started quivering. But she couldn't help it. The mask's music had somehow turned deadly and dangerous, full of rage.

“No, Cass—”

“You wish I was never born,” Cass heard herself saying.

Mom gasped.

Then Cass couldn't bear it anymore. She had to get away, had to escape to a place where she had never said those things to her own beloved mom.

She turned and wrenched open the kitchen door, rushed out into the dark night. The gate was open to the backyard, so she plunged through and ran through the grasses, down the hill to the little stream with the garbage beyond.

She flung herself onto the ground and sobbed. The angry music of the mask crashed not only in her ears, but in the night sounds all around her. It resonated in the rocks, the trees, the grass, the stream. The whole world was filled with rage and regret.

Some time later, hands were on her shoulders and Mom's head was against her head. Then Mom had Cass in her arms, and she was rocking her slowly while Cass's sobs shook her whole body.

Mom rocked her forever, until finally Cass's breath began to slow into long, shuddering breaths. Mom's arms held Cass stronger than anything, like great roots wrapped all around.

“Shhh,” Mom kept saying. “Shhh.”

Slowly the music inside Cass and all around in the night began to subside too. The jarring, rage-filled sounds transformed into something else.

Cass whispered at last: “I'm sorry.”

Mom squeezed her tighter. She whispered back, “You are the one good thing that has ever happened to me. You are everything—my one, my girl, my darling. We are—we are each other's roots.”

Cass thought about that as they sat side by side on the hill, leaning together for warmth and comfort. She and Mom, they were like a tree that barely knew which way to grow. It was feeling its way through rocky ground, struggling to dig roots down, and reaching blindly up for sunlight. It hadn't given up, for some weird reason, although it should have.

Yes
, the mask and the night world seemed to sing.
Struggling, surviving, even when you don't think you can, that is the story of life on this planet. Your lonely fight is not really lonely at all, when you think that everyone else is fighting too.

Mom said softly, “Listen to the night. Listen. So many different sounds, like different stories.”

Cass whispered, “Like music.”

Mom held her close. “Like music.”