Three Converts

Part 40

Mayrood was back to normal. The fair had moved on. Where booths and tents had once lined the street, it was wide and quiet again. The delicious smells of the food vendors were gone, but then so were the livestock smells from the petting zoo. We walked past the spot where the woman had yelled at me for soliciting her mom. Where I met Griffin and Annie, where I had my first donut. It seemed like a million years ago. If Griffin wasn't walking beside me right now, it would be easy to believe it never happened.

I looked down at my filthy clothes and sighed. I'd worn the same robe almost all my life and now I was going through clothes almost daily. Rocco had brought Misty a little bag of her clothes and she'd already changed. I was still wearing the same thing I'd worn in the pit, that I'd worn during the great eyeball stomping. I stopped in the middle of the street. "I've got to change my clothes. Right now."

Griffin nodded, handing our bag to me. "Let's duck in here." Griffin bought a bagel from a little shop and I popped into their restroom. I washed my hands and face, put on fresh clothes and felt like a new person when I emerged. Rocco and Misty had joined Griffin at a table.

Misty was eyeing me and I could tell something was on her mind. "Okay. Back into the bathroom."

"What? Why?"

"Do you trust me? Just get back in the bathroom!" she ordered without waiting for an answer. She shoved me back in the bathroom, then ran out and came back with scissors.

"Girl, we are going to do something about this hair."

"My hair?"

"Your hair." She confirmed. I pulled a chunk of it out to the side. My hair was boring. It was dull and stringy and straight. Nothing like Misty's shiny, bouncy locks. She was so brave to cut it to her chin. All the women in the commune had long hair. To cut it was vanity.

While I was admiring her hair, Misty took a firm snip from mine. I jumped. "Now?! You're doing it now?! You have to warn me!"

"Warnings are for wimps!" she giggled. "Just be still."

I closed my eyes and thought of all the disastrous ways this could end. I heard a snip horrifyingly close to my ear and whimpered a little. There was so much cutting. I trusted Misty, but was there really that much to cut? Was she abusing my trust? I couldn't bear to open my eyes. After what seemed like a million clips, my friend stopped. She twisted me to the left, then to the right. She brushed my shoulders off, and announced, "Done!"

"I'm scared!"

"Don't be a baby. Just open your eyes!"

I did. I don't know who was looking back at me in the mirror, but it sure didn't look like me. I stared. I leaned in. I stepped back. I bounced up and down. I flipped my hair from one shoulder to the other.

"Well?! How do you like it?"

I gave Misty a hug. "It's bouncy! I never thought I'd have bouncy hair!"

She laughed, "It was just weighted down! You have super bouncy hair, Luce!"

"I love it."

She nodded proudly. "Me too. Next step- your nails!" She wiggled her own nails at me. They'd been magenta before we were tossed in the pit. Now they were just speckled with remnants of magenta. We linked arms and walked back into the restaurant. Never mind that I'd recently met a man I love, partially blinded another man, left my family home and way of life, helped birth a baby, reunited with my childhood friend, been tossed into a pit, and been rescued. For just a moment, as I slid into the booth beside Griffin, for maybe the first time in my life, I felt completely normal.

Griffin put his hand right into my hair and combed through it. "I like it," he smiled.

"Misty," I explained.

Rocco drummed the table. "Looks good. Okay, Griffin buddy- let's get to your old man's place and set up camp."

"Okay! Okay!" Griffin handed me a blueberry bagel in a paper bag. "Let's go."

**

Griffin's childhood home was practically buried in the tall grass and weeds. "I'm in charge of mowing," he explained. We walked up two steps onto a porch with an inviting wooden swing. I recognized it immediately as Griffin's work. I ran my hand over it, vowing to sit out here later. Griffin stuck his head in the door, "Dad? You here? I brought some friends over." He opened the door wider, and we piled in. I wondered if I should warn Misty that Griff's dad hits him. It wasn't really my secret to tell, but it was important information. "Dad?" Griff yelled again. "I don't think he's here."

The house was different than Rocco's parents. Their's was modest, but tidy, (I got the feeling that was thanks to Misty.) Griffin's house smelled like old food and had random junk strewn about the living room floor. Clothes, magazines, cups, plates with crusty food. "You also in charge of the housework?" Rocco asked. He wasn't being unkind. In fact, his tone was one of understanding. It occurred to me the two had much of their family life in common. It made me like Rocco a little more.

"Yeah, I am," Griffin shrugged. "I've never been gone this long before." He cringed at me, "Sorry it's such a mess."

I refused to show any pity. "Please," I waved my hand, "this is nothing."

"Seriously," Misty added. "I've seen a hundred times worse than this."

Rocco nodded. "I'm a pro at cleaning up. Just point me in the direction of the garbage bags."

So we got to work. In no time at all the house looked clean, and the stale food smells were fading fast. Rocco thrust open a couple windows to air it out. "There!" Misty exclaimed, "Good as new!"

"Thanks, guys. You saved me a real hassle." Rocco and Misty regarded him seriously, but didn't say anything. I wouldn't have to air Griffin's dirty laundry after all, I was pretty sure they were piecing it together on their own.

Griff led Misty and Rocco to Gordo's room, where they made themselves at home, falling onto the bed. Griff took me by the hand and led me to his room. At Rocco's house Misty's room was bright and decorated. If I was shown a million rooms I'd have been able to pick hers out. Griffin's did not have any of the personal touches. There was a bed, dresser, and desk. It could have been anybody's room. "It's not very... you, is it?" I asked. He shrugged. "I'm not in here very often. My favorite room is the garage. That's where I spend most my time."

"Show me."

I understood right away why he loved the garage. It was his workshop. It smelled just like Griffin to the tenth power. All the different woods he worked with mixed together to make that unmistakable foresty scent. A long work table stretched across one wall, with tools hanging from a thousand little hooks. Some small half-finished projects sat on the table, and a beautiful large hunk of wood sat in the middle of the room. Little wood shavings blanketed the plastic it sat on. "It's going to be a desk," Griffin explained. On the other end of the garage, opposite his worktable were big shelves featuring finished projects. Chests, chairs, tables, nightstands filled the shelves, each perfect and unique.

"May I touch?" I asked.

"Sure."

I traced the intricate design on top a dainty jewelry box, ran my palm over the smooth leg of a hefty table, gently rocked a little cradle. "Griffin, this is... art." My voice caught. His work was so beautiful, my eyes could hardly take it all in. My heart could hardly take it all in.

He was crouched down, inspecting the desk in the middle of the shop. I didn't know how to communicate to him just how much I loved his work. "Griff?"

He stood, hearing the emotion in my voice. I took his hands and put them around me. I breathed in the oak, cherry, maple, pine, and moved in toward him. He met me halfway. He kissed me for a long time, gently. He knew me after all.

I expected to be bashful after, but instead, wesmiled, then laughed, then kissed again.