Echoes of Home

40 - Tsu'na

Everyone wants to see my ears.

I did not understand at first. I felt more people than usual looking at me but I did not truly understand the cause. Then I went to May's store to buy butter and May asked, "Um...sorry if this is weird, but...can I see?"

"See?"

"Your ears. I...heard they were special?"

It seems she had heard about the fight at the bar. Perhaps she has a husband who goes there. I took off my beret.

Her eyes got wide. She blinked as she studied my head. Then her hand reached up.

"Please do not touch my ears."

Her hand did not withdraw. "Sorry...I just..."

"Please do not touch my ears."

"Okay...but...they're just...so..."

"Do not touch my ears!"

She jumped back a bit and froze. She said "I'm sorry" in a small voice. I took the butter and left.

I went to the library to find how paint was made. The paint we are using on the shed looks useful; once we find pigments we may be able to make our own. The store we got the paint from had cans of "latex paint" which sounds easy to make.

The librarian, Mrs. Hobbes, looked at me as I came in but did not speak. I spent some time on a computer finding articles about making different kinds of paint. I had found an article about something called "flour paint" when I heard a high-pitched voice behind me say, "Hey! Is that the cat lady?"

I turned and saw a small girl holding a woman's hand and pointing at me. "Are you the cat lady? Can I see your ears???"

The girl was being loud and rude in a library, and neither the woman with her nor the librarian did anything. They were both looking at me. I thought they perhaps wanted to see my ears too. I did not understand...did they think the girl's behavior was acceptable?

I decided this was something I would need to get used to. I took off the beret. The little girl made a noise and ran at me with her hands raised. I stood up from the chair.

"Can I touch them???"

"No. They are my ears."

"Aw, but they're so long and pretty!"

I looked at the women and still saw no support. I did not want to yell at the girl as I had with May. I turned and closed my browser window, then put on my beret and left the library. The little girl was making whiny noises as I walked out.

I went to The Pit where Husband was painting the shed. I asked for his phone and used it to google the term he had used the day before: "convention groping." There were indeed articles about it. It is a thing that happens. People, especially women, who go to conventions in costumes are often touched, felt, groped, pulled on and stalked. There were even stories of abductions. Not only was Husband's story plausible, I was actually seeing it happen here.

I stayed and helped with the painting. Some people from The Pit came to watch. Before yesterday some would come out to see what we were doing, but they usually lost interest and left. These people did not leave. These people stared. I moved to work on the far side of the shed. They did not follow, but it was a while before they left.

I did not feel like talking during dinner. Husband talked about things, about crafting, about television shows, about news he had heard. I nodded and tried to be polite. Perhaps I should have told him then about May and the little girl. I was trying not to think about it. I was trying not to think that the people in the town were like the problem people at conventions. But I was unusual for them. I did not feel unusual. But they were suddenly not seeing me as a person as much as a shape.

We went to the diner and started our shift. Husband was working the counter last night. I went and filled the mop bucket and wheeled it out into the dining area.

The dining area was more crowded than it had been before during our shift.

Everyone was staring at me.

I have faced ships full of pirates and Sahagen. I have faced armies of Garleans. I have faced beasts and bandits and dragons. I have faced monsters and machines bigger than houses.

I could not face those eyes.

I dropped the mop and ran home. The Hartmans were there, not quite settled in for the evening. I went to our room and got into bed and pulled the blanket up. Someone knocked on the door. I did not answer.

Husband got there a short time after me. He got into bed and held me. I said we would not make much money if he was not at the diner. He said nothing was worth more than me.

We did not talk about what happened. He simply held me. I tried to understand why I was afraid. They were just people. They were just looking. But no one had ever looked at me like that in Eorzea. Perhaps it was the idea that this is what it will be like in this Earth, that if I show my ears and tail I will be looked at by a whole world of people.

But that was thinking logically. My fear at the diner was not logical; it was simply fear.

I relaxed in time. The diner still needed cleaning, so, since it was empty, Husband and I went back and did it together.

Afterwards, back in bed, he told me about how a classic scene in scary videos is a pack of wolves all staring at someone. It did not take snarling or growling or teeth to be scary. Just all the focused eyes. Perhaps that was what I ran away from. Though had it been wolves I would have fought them off.

I am typing this at the library. Today Mrs. Hobbes did not stare at me. There were some children with a woman reading a story to them. The children stared at me until the woman got their attention again. She did not stare at me.

I cannot decide if it feels more odd to be looked at or to not be looked at.