Horns Beneath Scarves

I thread a scarf through my hair, pulling it over my ears and tying it into a bow on the top of my head. Once secure, I tuck the sides behind my ears and slide it back, making sure to cover my horns as well.

Another school day means another morning blending in with the people of Amontarillo. In an ideal world, I wouldn't be leaving my home at all, but in a small village, it's hard to keep secrets. Word spreads like the plague even on a bad day, and a horn-bearing child would be difficult to explain. For me, the best I can do is hide in plain sight and hope no one asks too many questions.

As I step out of my room and into the kitchen, I give a kiss to Ma. She straightens out my skirt for me, which always manages to fold up on itself.

“You be careful today, dear,” she says. “There’s a storm brewing. I don’t want you caught out in it.”

“I’ll come home straight after school,” I say. “Promise!”

“Good. Have a good day, Esther.”

“I will!”

I grab my books sitting by the front door and head out, catching up with the line of students walking to the schoolhouse on the other side of the village. They don’t pay attention to me, as they’re too focused on talking or where they’re putting their feet on the rough grass. I try not to stare, but it’s hard. It’s weird seeing others without horns.

I have no idea what I am. I used to think I was a goat, until Ma told me the other villagers might consider me a devil. I ask her all the time to explain these things to me, but she refuses, simply calling me a “mythic.” The only thing she’ll definitively let in on is that she took me from my real parents. I couldn’t say where they are now, or what they were like. At this point, I’m convinced I’ll never know.

Instinctively, I reach up to touch the horns beneath my scarf. Ma tells me it’s barely noticeable, but I wonder how many people just don’t say anything. I’m always conscious of it; once, someone asked about the lumps on my head. I told them it was sickness, and Ma had to quickly explain to everyone I just like keeping acorns in there. Now, rather than my peers thinking I’m ill, they just think I’m strange. I’m not sure which is worse.

I steal a glance ahead of me to see a girl staring at me. I recognize her as the girl who recently moved here; supposedly, her family is having problems at her real home across the state, so she’s staying with her grandparents here in Amontarillo while her parents work things out. She’s small like me, but her eyes are noticeably bigger than mine. When ours meet, she quickly looks away and dashes off to the schoolhouse.

***

By the end of the day, the storm has already made its way here. The wind whips so hard it nearly tears the school door off. I have to hold onto my scarf in order to keep it from flying away. Other students run out of the building, pouring out around me in their mad dash home. The villagers I can see snuff out lanterns and board up windows in preparation. I didn’t think it was going to be so bad.

I try my best to fight against the wind, but it’s not easy with such a small frame. Sometimes it blows dirt into my eyes, and I have to close them to keep it out. Living on the other side of Amontarillo certainly has its problems at times like these.

 With my eyes closed, I end up tripping over a hole in the ground, spilling my books all over the grass. I scramble to pick them up so I can get back before it starts to pour, but that means letting go of my scarf. I can already feel it slipping; my hands slip, too, off the edges of my books as I struggle to get them together. Before I know it, the wind snatches my scarf away, and I can’t catch it. I’m helpless as it drifts along the wind.

Panic catches in my throat, and I quickly reach up to cover my horns. I don’t see anyone in the immediate area, but I don’t wait for anyone to show up. There’s only one place safe from prying eyes, and it’s the woods that surround the village. I make a break for it, leaving my books behind. I figure someone else will see them, or I’ll come back for them later. Maybe Ma can use them as clues to find me when she inevitably begins to hunt me down when I don’t come home.

I climb over the fence that surrounds Amontarillo and dash for the trees. I find a nice spot situated underneath a log, where I can sandwich myself between the dead tree and a ditch in the dirt. The wind is much louder in the woods, and the leaves shake and scream with the strong draft.

Just when I think I’m safe, I hear someone walking through the brush. Or at least I think I do. I take a careful peek out of my hiding spot and notice the girl from earlier. She’s looking for something and it’s probably me. She scans the woods carefully, and I duck back underneath the log to hide.

That’s when I notice my footprints in the dirt and realize there’s nothing I can do besides hope she’s too stupid to notice. Unfortunately, that’s not the case. I see her foot fill the imprints I left behind, and she kneels to see me sitting underneath my log.

“Hi,” she says. “Esther?”

“That’s not my name,” I say, hoping she’ll leave me alone.

I keep my hands up over my horns, but it’s probably no use. Yet she surprises me when she holds out my scarf. She waits for me to take it, and I hesitate at first. Only when she crawls into the ditch next to me do I accept it.

“You look like a ram,” she says with a smile. “I’m sorry you have to hide them like this.”

“Please don’t tell anyone!” I beg. “There will be serious problems if people find out!”

“Don’t worry, I’ll keep your secret.”

Suddenly, she lifts her dress slightly to show me a white tail, the end of which is shaped like a spade.

“It’s not like I’m in any position to,” she says.

I don’t know what to say to her, so I stare at her in blank surprise. She lowers her dress and pats off the dirt before taking in a big sigh.

“My name’s Marry,” she continues. “We’re kind of in the same situation.”

“I thought you came to escape home troubles?” I say.

“I did.” Marry pauses to nod. “People found out what we were. Sometimes blending in doesn’t work out.”

“Do your grandparents know?” I ask.

“Yes, but they’re not really supposed to,” she says. “They’re my father’s grandparents, so they’re just as human as anyone else in Amontarillo. Except for us, at least.”

I squeeze my scarf in my lap.

“I’m sorry you have to go through that,” I say. “I never even knew my parents, so it must be hard having those ties.”

Marry shrugs. “It’s rough. But now that I know I’m not the only one hiding something, it’s a little easier.”

She means me. I agree with her with a nod.

“It sure does help,” I say.

“I wondered if there was something different about you,” Marry says, “with your scarf and all. But I didn’t want to say anything before.”

“I probably would’ve lied about it anyway,” I say. “It would’ve been a waste.”

“Well, now that the cat’s out of the bag, we should get together more often,” she suggests. “Might be better with a friend.”

“I think I could do that,” I say.

Marry smiles, then crawls out from under the log. She extends her hand to me, where she pulls me out from my spot as well. I quickly tie the scarf around my horns, triple-knotting the bow so it doesn’t fly away again.

“Let’s get back fast,” she says, “so no one thinks we’re missing.”

I nod, and Marry grabs my hand and leads me back to the village. We help each other over the fence, and I run back to the books I dropped to pick them up. I can feel the rain starting to come down in small drops. Marry helps me gather my things, and we each say goodbye to each other briefly before sprinting back home. The rain continues to fall, and I hope I don’t slip again as the grass gets slick.

By the time I throw the house door open, Ma is standing in the doorway, looking equal parts worried and displeased. She has her arms crossed, and she waits for me to shut and board the door and put my things away.

I’m not sure she’ll take talking to other mythics as a good excuse.