by Edward Ahern

There was no one thing about Daniel that made people shy away from him. All his features, viewed in isolation, looked fine. But with his elements combined he seemed disturbingly sinister, as if two pastoral jigsaw puzzles had been jumbled together and reassembled into something menacing.

People said that looking at him strained their eyes and they most often looked over his shoulder. Daniel’s free time was often spent either alone or with just his family and even they had a hard time holding focus.

He was referred to plastic surgeons who couldn’t point to any one surgical element that would soften his looks. By the time he went away to college Daniel knew that despite liking people, he was destined to be a loner.

To try and have social contact away from classes, Daniel volunteered to provide meals to shut ins. The people he brought food usually recoiled, but at least were thankful and he had a chance to talk a bit before they shut their doors on him. Then while on his rounds he met Doris.

Doris looked extraordinarily old, with wrinkles layered on wrinkles, like crisscrossing gullies. And she smelled like old cheese. Doris was remarkably ugly, but didn’t seem to care. She held a cane so long it could have been a staff.

“Well, look at you,” she said when she met him. “You look like the IKEA instructions from hell. Or maybe a half melted Leggo figure.”

Daniel smiled despite himself. It was refreshing to meet someone this honestly blunt. “And you’re a vision of loveliness.”

Doris’ cackle could’ve cracked glass. “Believe it or not, a long, long time ago I was. But If I revealed myself, I’d have to kill you. Gimme the food and let’s talk about your isolation, that’ll be so much fun. I’ll throw in a beer.”

Daniel hesitated, but hadn’t really talked to anyone other than his family in weeks. “Okay, I’ve got one more delivery to make, but can be back in about twenty minutes.” He smiled at her. “Will you still be alive?”

“Snarky under that shyness. I like that. I’ll outlive you by a century, jumble-face.”

Daniel did come back, and while savoring two funny tasting beers, told Doris about his life standing on the outside of events and people.  She offered understanding but no sympathy, and Daniel realized he wasn’t feeling sorry for himself, just resigned to being an alien specimen in an exhibition on humanity.

Two hours passed without his noticing. “Damn, Doris, I think you know more about me than my mother does. I’ve got to go.”

She shuddered. “Don’t use that word.”

“Word?”

“Damn. You have no idea what it really means. Would you like to have regular features, like everyone else?”

Daniel was disappointed. He thought she’d understood. “Of course I would.”

“Brace yourself, sonny.”

Doris muttered something inaudible, stood up, grabbed her long cane with two hands, and swung it into the side of Daniel’s face. He heard bones crunch just before passing out. When he woke up he was in the university hospital, his head swaddled in pressure bandages. There was a cop standing alongside a doctor. The cop spoke first.

“All right you little perp, listen to me. We know from that old woman that you came onto her and she had to defend herself. How you could do that to a woman that ugly is beyond me. She’s not filing charges, and said she’d deny it if we reported you, but watch your ass sonny, we’ve got an informal list as well.” Then he left.

The doctor took longer. “You have multiple complete and hairline fractures of your facial bones, and have lost two teeth that were out of place anyway. We can’t consider reconstructive surgery until the swelling and inflammation subside. Once that happens, we’ll evaluate how to best try and restore your looks.”

Daniel started to laugh but stopped; it hurt too badly. “Good luck with that, Doc,” he lisped.

After a few more days he was released from the hospital and went back to classes, still head bandaged. His obvious injury got considerably more sympathy than his prior looks ever had.

Two weeks later he called the surgeon. “Doctor, I think I’m going to skip the corrective surgery.”

“But we can make improvements…”

“Believe it or not, I’m getting happy with the way I look. As the bones are resettling, I’m beginning to like the new normal. I can come in for a consultation, but please, no operations.”

The following week a girl came onto him and he found himself in a relationship of sorts. People who’d previously avoided him invited him to join in their vices. He wasn’t sure, but he thought his professors were grading him higher than before.

A week later he’d resumed his old delivery route for shut-ins, and walked up to Doris’ door. It opened before he knocked.

“Look at you, pretty boy.”

Daniel backed up a step. “Don’t hit me again, Doris.”

“Nah, once was enough. How’s likable life among the lemmings?”

“If you let me in and give me another beer, I’ll tell you.”

She did and he did.

“What are you, Doris? I get the strong feeling that you already knew what would happen to me after you clubbed me.”

“Maybe.”

“I also suspect you knew that after the initial elation I’d be disappointed.”

“Could be. Disappointed how?”

“My new friends socialize a lot, but seem really selfish. And they repeat inane and stupid things among themselves until they come to believe them. I almost want to go back to the way I was.”

Doris shook her head from side to side. “Too bad. It’s a one-way magic. But there’s a consolation. As you age, you’ll get uglier and the friends you keep will get saner.”

End