Gimme!

“Theseo, I want your nose. Mine is awful, deviated septum, and it doesn’t look good in any light except the dark. You’ve had yours long enough.”

I shook my head.

“Have you ever traded?” he asked. I never liked him—Goldeus—but he always came around to my apartment, and every time he looked different. This time he had golden hair that swirled down to his broad shoulders. “I only ask because, well, you seem quite fortunate. Put together, in a way.” 

I had received that comment before, back when I was ten. Another child asked for my eyes, and yet another for my legs, and my mother promptly told me to never go outside without a hat and either sunglasses or a mask. Even now, I would go outside wearing baggy clothing and thought nothing of it. I suppose since I was in my own room, I hadn’t considered it quickly enough, and now he had seen me. 

“I could imagine someone asking for any part of your face. Mine is fine as is, but it took quite a lot of searching. What matches with this hair? A nice nose, that’s for sure! How many times have you said no?”

“Three.”

“Three? Theseo, how could you say no that often? You have to trade! I trade all the time. Now you just have one left, and who knows what that’ll be! You should have just given me your nose and saved yourself one.” He kicked at the ground, pouting with a face he stole.

I don’t know what remained on his body that was actually his. I met him only a year ago when he joined our painting company, and he immediately questioned one of our more attractive painters about acquiring her delicate ears. She said yes, of course. I looked at him standing in front of me, leaned over, and I saw he had already traded them again. 

“I’ll see you at work tomorrow, Goldeus.”

“Sure,” he mumbled. “But remember, just one left. Not that I can take your nose from you now, you jerk. Unless someone else takes it, hah!”

He was quite right, but I wouldn’t make the same mistake. I made sure to wear a mask the next day and a hat that shadowed my face. When I arrived to work, I said very little, and very little was said to me. We were working on a great big building that was due to be painted in the next week. 

“Theseo, you always work so fast,” said Hofdo, a man with a puffed out chest and a bushy beard. 

“I sure do.”

“And where are you always eating lunch? You don’t want to hang out with us?” 

“He’s never eaten with us the whole time he’s worked here,” added Beld, who towered over the rest of the staff. His posture was poor, just like many painters whose necks gave out on them.

“I’m fine. Thank you.”

“Alright then,” Hofdo replied.

I went to my car, carefully undid my disguise, and hurriedly ate my food. It was salty, cold, and far too heavy for my stomach. But what mattered was no one saw me, and I swiveled my head around the parking lot, and I saw no one, and no one saw me. I put my mask back on, my hat closely wrapped around my head, and I returned to work.

It had been incredibly warm recently, but my boss insisted that we could take no breaks, so we worked from morning till night. Wearing my mask, breathing in the hot air again and again, mixing further with my own—I began to feel a little light-headed. 

“Theseo, you okay?” asked Goldeus, who stood at the bottom of my ladder. I suppose he was watching me closely. 

I nodded my head, but I desperately wanted to take my hat off and feel the scarce wind in my hair. I knew I couldn’t. I kept painting, red over red, and I thought of the cold shower I would take that night. 

“Theseo, you’re wobbling. You’re—”

It was the heat. It just got too hot. I suppose I should be thankful Goldeus traded his arms for such sturdy replacements, because otherwise I would have been dead on the ground. Though to be honest, it felt like I was nearly there already. I could hardly remember where I was.

“My god. Theseo got heat stroke? We gotta tell the boss to stop making us do this in the middle of the day,” said Beld.

“Can we focus on Theseo right now?” Hofdo replied, annoyed. “Goldeus, take off his mask. Bring him in the shade. Let him breathe. God, he works too hard.”

Goldeus looked at me, his perfect teeth gritted together. I couldn’t quite speak. My head was spinning, but I knew what was happening. 

“I’m sorry, Theseo,” he whispered musically. I wondered if his voice was his. 

My body lay in the shade of the nearby bakery, and my eyes could barely open. Goldeus gently took off my sunglasses, my hat, and finally, my mask. My face was free. It felt so wonderful to have the cool air on my face that I nearly forgot why I kept it hidden.

“Oh.” 

“I suppose—” 

“We never saw his face, did we?” 

Goldeus leaned over my body, and I could not tell if he was crying. Half an hour later of drifting in and out of consciousness, and I felt my normalcy return. I sat up, and I saw all the people staring at me. Not just my coworkers, but those working at the bakery, those walking their dogs. They were all staring at me, estimating me. 

“I go first!” screamed Hofdo. “I need a new hairline, and his is—actually, I’ll take his arms!” 

I peered down, and I saw I was not wearing my baggy clothing anymore. They were ripped off and tossed to the side. They could see me.

“Okay, but if you take his arms, I’ll take his mouth. Look at how soft his lips are!” yelled Beld. I could see his expression, wide-eyed and excited like a child. 

“Goldeus,” said Hofdo, “you saved his life, so you get in on this too.”

Goldeus sat up from my side, and I could see in his face, in his gorgeous gaze, I could see a primal joy.

They took it all.

When I look in the mirror now, I see so many. I see a bushy beard, a drooped neck. There were too many people. I couldn’t run away, I couldn’t hide. I don’t know where my body is going to end up, but I doubt it will end up with me. My eyes aren’t blue anymore. My legs aren’t graceful. Everything feels different. The way I walk, the way I eat. Even the way I breathe, now with my deviated septum, I’ve had to get a machine to help me sleep. I don’t see myself anymore. I don’t think I ever will.