His Partners

1

"Of itself, the hermaphrodite was the oddest one. In general, I mean. In terms of genetalia. Everything above the belt was fine, nothing too strange, I wouldn't say. Only a facial tattoo but that's more of a choice than a birth defect."

The Liar gives a smooth laugh as he says this, leaning further back in his chair and nodding to himself. I begin to point out that hermaphroditism isn't exactly a birth defect when he agrees. Agrees, but explains he had no better words in his vocabularic arsenal to express his thoughts on the matter. I cannot argue there – neither am I sure I would know how else to describe it.

"Intersex individuals are an interesting rarity," the Liar continues, tapping his index finger on his knee. "I wouldn't mind seeing another. Or, perhaps, rekindling the relationship with him... I feel there are a lot of things we might've been able to do that we never touched on. It took weeks for him to concede letting me near him properly. It was as if he had never been loved before... either way," he pauses, head tilting in my direction, "I managed. My prize is my experience. My stories."

"Yes, you mentioned before," I say. I click my pen, shuffling in my own seat in front of him. I poise its nib above the next free line. Though I am unable to say whether I am eager or dreading to hear what he describes his exploits as, how he keeps the memories of his partners. "You called them prizes before."

"Quite so, yes," he says, then pauses. Though I feel his antiquated rhetoric needs no run-up. He must be reading me through the anonymous-style white mask gripping his cheekbones. The only openings in the mask are at the eyes, mouth and nose. It is impossible to tell what the Liar looks like, impossible to interpret him as he interprets me; my flawed self is on display for him to analyse in the silence that holds still in the air. Eventually, he speaks again, "The hermaphrodite's my third partner, my third prize now. Not many partners, I grant you, not many prizes... though I like to make sure we're both meeting and parting on good terms. I parted from the heiress and the artist favourably, I am parting from the hermaphrodite equally friendly as I was before. The beauty of the thing is, though, that, should I run into any of the three again, I'm sure they'd accompany me wherever I decided I wanted to take them."

I smile slightly, "The hermaphrodite sounds like they were reluctant though. At least, to begin with."

"He," the Liar corrects me.

"Oh," I frown. "Sorry. I assumed... but... You did say I suppose... well, from what you said – before - as for how long it took him to... accompany... you?"

The Liar bows his head very slightly to indicate that the chosen language is indeed a euphemism.

"Saying how long you implied that took, surely he'd not just rush into it again? I mean, I don't know, maybe I should interview the hermaphrodite too. Would you know where I could find him?"

"You could be right," the Liar says, conceding my point. "I'd not make guesses though. If I do meet him again in a few weeks and he resists me, I'll allow us to part friends, not partners. Though I only bring this point up because, before I met the hermaphrodite, I saw the artist again. He accompanied me, even after our time apart. It was a comfort to know my prizes also prized me."

At this, his head tilts up to me. I almost, though not quite, see his eyes through the holes of this white mask. The so-called 'windows to the soul'. He's been relaxed about meeting me, though not so relaxed about revealing his face. I have yet to probe him on this point.

I scribble. The Liar sits before me, one slender hand on his knee, the other raised by his face. Deftly, he adjusts the mask a couple of millimetres or so. He wears masks often, just by that movement it is obvious. Though the mask itself is disconcerting – that sickening smile gives my stomach a sinking feeling - the voice coming out of it though is a verbal velveteen, quite reversing the affect the mask has on me. I doubt this is the mask he would usually wear. Perhaps because, in the files that have spots of information about him, his usual appearance has been described thus: