His Partners

5

Of course! The hermaphrodite has a facial tattoo! How could I forget that little detail? I remember considering it in bed days ago. But my guesses into words and tribal tattoos were wrong. In this bookshop there is only one person who has a facial tattoo. That same person also has the obvious bodily structure of a woman – beneath an open navy jacket and wide-collared black shirt are breasts. This must be Lull, the hermaphrodite, my interviewee.

I shift my bag uncomfortably as I consider how to approach him. He is much taller and wider than I expected; he stands at about my height, but his weight gives him a much more imposing figure than my own. Within his palm is a crime novel, and he turns the page calmly but without care. Most likely killing time before I join him.

But my confidence has been knocked back very slightly – my plan to offload these books backfired. I did not even consider the possibility that charity shops get too many donations, but such is the case here. No more books, clothes or toys were wanted at all, and I was kindly but firmly turned away with my bag still bulging full of my old titles. So I now walk into a bookshop with a bag filled with words I do not want to read. Paranoia set in a few minutes ago, and I half expect some employee to ask if I'm stealing the books in my bag.

I must do what I ventured here to do. With a calming breath, I set my shoulders back and stride closer to the hermaphrodite, his name on my tongue to greet him.

He snaps the edition closed, placing it back on the shelf it came from with one fluid motion, and turns his head immediately in my direction. The full majesty of his tattoo is visible. Beneath a hairline of faded fuchsia leading into a strong grey is an intimidating representation of the details of a skull on the hermaphrodite's face, all inked in a heavy grey. From the dark 'sockets' around his eyes to the intersecting lines of teeth over his lips, there is not a square inch free of ink. It is as impressive as it is scary, and I have to consciously maintain my walking pace so I do not falter in front of him.

There is no probability I have the wrong person.

"Lull Lyster," I self-assuredly announce, reaching my hand out.

"Evening," he says, and I am reminded of how low his voice is. But it seems like the type of voice a person with this face should have; his low jawline and aquiline nose give him a masculine appearance.

"I must admit, I wasn't entirely sure who I was looking for."

He blinks uninterested eyes, "Lucky guess."

"I knew you had some sort of facial tattoo, but that was all the information I had, as vague as it was. I was told nothing else. Though I suppose that was all I needed, seeing as I did indeed find you."

"I hope I'm not a disappointment to you, that being said."

I raise my eyebrows, "No, of course not."

"Not sure what Hieronymus told you," I notice he talks in a rather efficient manner, not wasting time getting straight to the point: "I doubt he would've told you that I'm a fat, ugly bastard with a skull tattoo. He likes to think he's charming, so he rarely talks truth. If he'd mentioned all that information to you I'm sure you'd have tracked me down easier."

"I... he..." unable to reply in any comprehensible way, I stutter for a second. "He didn't seem to lie about you, if that's what you mean. He merely stated you have a facial tattoo, though any other physicality of yours he left unsaid."

"Just because he didn't lie doesn't mean he told the truth," Lull says firmly, his dark grey eyebrows lowering slightly over his equally grey eyes. "Are you naïve or stupid?"