To marry a lizard

Rion was born a lizard. He grew scales on his toes first, watched them crawl toward his eyes until he was green and brown all over. He was a disgusting cretin, he knew, but he walked through life with a sense of pride for it. At least nobody likes me for my looks, he told himself, at least nobody will marry me for power.

His teacher told the class he was in a fire. A grotesque tragedy that shook the earth and and burned property for days on end. He watched his class tremble, wondering what type of disaster could leave scales all over the body in such a grotesque fashion. Wondering whether they had a chance to turn out as ugly as he, wishing God chanced them a healthy future, one lack of such cruel fire. Still and silent was Rion, staring at his wooden desk and wondering what barbaric god would break him free with a teacher that punished him for unlikeness with pity. He’s not even smart, Rion pretended not to hear Mr. Earl tell another adult. Months of hitting bigger children first, reveling himself a man of grandeur and he wasn’t even smart.

When he was 13, a girl spoke to Rion. The first, and he thanked God for answering his prayers. She asked him his name before telling him she’d heard of him – everyone had heard of him by then, but he appreciated the gesture. He was the boy with scales for skin, he bore a reputation before a name. She wasn’t new to the school, and again he appreciated her lying. He knew her as Lisa from the southern farm, knew her father as the cold-eyed leviathan guarding her keep himself. Bodyguards are not enough for a proper lord, Rion mocked her father to the other children and plugged his ears with snickers.

The night before the Turnabout, Lisa asked whether anyone had yet asked him as partner. Of course not, he barked at her. And what a stupid question, he thought, who in this hell might ask me? But her eyes were emeralds that day, green and golden and glowing, and she showed him the back of her opalescent palm. He kissed it before he could stop himself and she giggled. He snarled, she smiled.

Can you keep a secret? He entreated her the night of the dance. His bones shook in paper skin and he’d wept for hours before. You have to tell her eventually, his mother had reminded. Maybe so, but maybe not for a while. Why does it even matter?

No, she answered him. Her teeth shone like a wolf in the forest. She craved gossip and told him so every night before bed. I love when somebody starts a sentence with “can I be mean? Can I just be honest here? I love her but…” She wondered herself a portal of truths. He called her a spider, she called herself a journalist. I only tell what others tell me, she defended herself and he pretended that mattered at all, pretended she wasn’t as evil as her tongue.

So Rion told her anyway, of course, trusting her viridescent gaze before her mouth. Lisa hadn’t shared his past that night anyway, and he slept wondering if she would take his secret to her tomb. That was the first night he prayed with real love in his heart, petitioning what he named fake gods for confidentiality.

But of course she told her friends. And her friends told everyone else. That Monday, even. He couldn’t be mad; she kept her promise.

I’m dating a lizard, she crooned. And he is so…deep. None of you understand him. Not like I do. She carried his curse like a medallion, bragging before crowds that she had fallen in love with a monster. I love him and the man he can be.

But did she really believe he could become a new man? He laughed into his pillow, remembering her speech told in bathroom stalls and lunch tables. A man with…what? Blonde hair, clear skin? Rion slept each night dreaming he was of a man worthy of her love and woke each morning in tears.

Rion wanted to belong to Lisa but only grew uglier. A cruel fate, his mother warned, to belong to a woman who never sees past the mask.

And what choice do I have? he barked, twinkling while she cowered. My mask is my face, my body, my self. And this god damned tail. He held his added appendage in one hand like a hostage. Nobody can see past that. Is it so cruel to love the mask? Are you so stuck up your own nates that you truly believe anybody out there would love me for me and ignore…what? Everything?

And maybe it’s not so bad, Rion warned his own heart, thudding against his ribs for hours a day. Maybe people can use her to see into his own skull. People were kinder to him after story spread that Lisa loved a lizard. They’re growing warmer, understanding earth can produce all kinds and others can love all kinds, he thought. They’re stretching past mind and into heart.

At least at first. The town turned against her in a fortnight– do you really think you’ll marry him? Will your children respect him? A wicked life, to have a lizard as a father, they wept into her heart.

I am kind, they swore, but children are bloodthirsty.

I don’t mind, they vowed, but I cannot control a babe’s tongue. They say what’s on their mind. You must know that.

She turned her nose toward clouds and sniffed at the sun. I do not care, she cried. She really did love him for his mishappen anatomy not despite of it, she told everyone. I love him, I love him, I love him, she screamed at a brick wall every morning.

And don’t I know it? Rion thought, remembering how they made him a dog at the playground. We’re playing house. You’re our pet. It only makes sense. At least houses are kinds to dogs, his teacher said when he cried. Years later, they made him a slave. Our house is so big, and we need a maid. Tommy can be our dog. Tommy’s eyes flashed, knowing the children would pet and carol him and beat the maid for an imagined, filthy house.

I am the only one to feel this way, his brain sang when cruel thoughts seeped through the grooves.

He domesticated himself inside of Lisa, creating a cynophile in her living room. You are my companion, he imagined her saying. She mollycoddled her toy, pressed into the soft spot and crooned.

When Rion killed his first wife, nobody looked twice toward his door. Well, she married a lizard, the neighbors said before the funeral. What can you expect? Rion loved Lisa more than anybody, which nobody seemed to understand. He killed her, how could he love her? the people thought. He killed her, how he could love her, he thought.

She smelled like gasoline and apples when they buried her. He stood toward the back, in a mismatched suit with a jacket that fell to his knees and wept, though nobody looked at him.