As I stepped through the door into the theater hall, the high midday sun shining down from the windows on the ceiling cut sharp lines across the rows of seats. Paula was sitting in a seat about midway down. I didn’t make any effort to call out to her, just walked up and sat down at her side. Nito took the seat on my other side.
Paula spared us a glance before turning her gaze back to the front of the hall. Nito and I joined her in staring at the uncurtained stage.
“It was in the summer I turned ten, just after this theater was founded,” she began. “One of my friend’s parents became a cleaner here and used to sneak us kids in when there wasn’t much of a crowd.”
She paused, but I didn’t turn to look back at her, and I didn’t try to reply. I just had a feeling that was the best option to take.
“I still remember the first time like it was yesterday. That dancer’s dress sparkled under the lights, her arms and legs glided through the air, and her stiletto heels were just... It was like she was riding a horse made of music, and it was absolutely gorgeous. I wanted to be like that too—my arms and legs flying through the air.”
“So then you made it your job?” I asked after a short pause.
She snorted. It wasn’t a snort of derision at anyone else; it had only the soft puff of self-deprecation.
“I was just a tailor. It was a tiny store, and my usual takings were twelve belk a week. The closest I ever got was putting on a show in the local bar on weekends, dancing and making some spare change. Most of what came flying across the dusty floor was half-eaten bread from the drunkards, maybe a copper or two. The lights and the dress that I so longed for back then were all nothing more than dreams.”
I nodded along as she spoke, until eventually she paused again. Just like earlier, I waited for her to continue.
“I knew I’d gone too far as soon as I said it,” she admitted at length. “You asked the thunder rat about it, didn’t you?”
“And he told us Paula was his daughter’s name. Along with the fact that she’d died years ago,” I answered, finally turning to face her. I had no idea if my expression was as rife with confusion as my mind was, but I was dying to know. “Why do you have a dead girl’s name? It’s no coincidence, is it?”
“Of course not. She was my best friend, after all. Back when I first said I wanted to become a dancer, and even when I was wrestling with the fact that I was a man that had the heart of a woman, she was the only one that took me seriously.” Paula turned her gaze away from where it’d been fixated on the stage and gave me a searching look. “Kei, you never denied or rejected me when you first saw me. Your expression didn’t even change... Why is that?”
“Well, I guess ’cause it’s kinda normal?”
I’d seen people before that didn’t feel like they matched their body, in documentaries, TV shows, movies, and so on. Paula was the first I’d gotten to know personally, but that was no reason to reject her.
“Normal...?”
Paula’s eyebrows dropped and she gave a suspicious frown. Nito poked her head around from my other side and explained.
“Keisuke is an otherworlder, so he doesn’t have the same values as people from this world.”
“Oh!” Paula exclaimed, her eyes widening as she covered her mouth in shock and leaned her face close to mine. “You’re so incredible, Kei! I’ve never met an otherworlder before!”
“I don’t think it’s all that impressive,” I deflected, unsure how to react to being treated like some kind of celebrity.
“That otherworld is a whole other world,” she insisted. “Are there outcasts like me living loud and proud in your world?”
“Well...some people are loud and proud, but I think there are others who just live their lives. There’s definitely still discrimination and prejudice, but I’m pretty sure it’s getting more and more accepted as normal.”
If I’d known I would be asked about this kind of thing one day, I’d have looked into it more and been able to give her a better picture. Unfortunately, I could only offer vague platitudes. Paula put her hands to her chest and slowly shook her head as she took in what I’d said.
“So there really is a world like that,” she said after a moment. “A world where people like me can just live. That sounds...wonderful.”
My heart tightened at her expression. Here was someone who viewed the society I’d taken for granted my whole life as something radiant and enviable. There were people out there that would want such a thing more than I could ever imagine, and I had never even noticed.
“I wish this world could have grown into something like that, but it fell before it had the chance,” Paula said, then laughed softly. “Maybe that was for the best, though. It wasn’t a world I could live in with any ease, and there was no hope for my future either.”
“But didn’t you dream of dancing on stage?” Nito asked hesitantly.
Paula smiled gently back at her.
“Of course I did. But I’m old enough to know there’s a difference between dreams and reality, and I’d given up. This theater might be a decaying husk, but it’s still more than I deserve.”
Nito made to say something but I put my hand on her knee to stop her. Whatever she or I said, it would have been meaningless to Paula. I knew that nothing we could think of here in this moment would be new to her. We all had things in life that we believed in, wished for, and held on to with all our strength, but then gave up on once we realized there was no real hope.
“Paula, why did you come back here?” I asked.
“Well, I wanted to dance on this stage,” she replied.
“Back when we first met—when you stopped my car—you asked about the village, didn’t you?”
Thinking back on it, the way she had acted that day didn’t fit her at all. I started going over other details: she’d been friends with Monty’s daughter, she’d lived around here as a child... The photo I’d seen suddenly came back to my mind.
“Are you Fago’s...” I half asked.
It was more of a shot in the dark than a well-reasoned guess driven by any real certainty. The boy in Fago’s photo hadn’t looked anything like Paula, and on top of that, Fago had told me that he was dead. Even I barely believed it was possible, but I just had to ask.
Paula didn’t answer me out loud. All she did was give a single, tearful nod. Nito gasped, the sound awfully loud as it cut through the silence around us.
“Th-Then why don’t you go to her and—” From there, she let out a stream of rapid-fire half-formed questions, flapping her hands around emphatically.
I knew that she wanted to ask why Paula didn’t go and check in on Fago. There was another question that needed answering first, though.
“Does Fago know you’re here?”
She shook her head.
“I can’t face her now.”
“But she’s your mother,” Nito protested.
Paula directed a lonely smile toward the younger, smaller Nito.
“Dad was pretty pissed when I admitted I wanted to live as a woman and become a dancer. I wouldn’t budge, though, and eventually I got disowned. I’m not their son anymore.”
She gestured at herself.
“I mean, look at me,” she added derisively. “How can I just turn up looking like this and say, ‘Remember me? I’m your kid!’?”
“But...but you’re so close, and...” Nito’s voice got progressively quieter as she spoke, before she was eventually too quiet to hear.
“Thank you, Nito. You’re a sweet girl. I’m sorry, though...I’m a coward. All I can ever imagine is her turning away and saying, ‘I don’t know you. My son is dead.’”
“But that’s just...”
“Right, it’s just me imagining how it might go. But if that really did happen... That’s what I always think, and I can’t take the fear. If the alternative’s dying in despair, then I’d rather keep living like this. Once mom turns to crystals, I’ll regret not reconnecting with her, sure. Or maybe I’ll even go first. Either way, it’s better than the alternative. That’s why I can’t go to the festival, even though I really want to.”
The bright tone in her voice was definitely there for our sake. Her strength, and the need for her to have that strength, put a lump in my throat. The world was in ruins, all but ended. Each and every person was vanishing one by one, not knowing if tomorrow would ever come, but even then, mother and child could not necessarily understand each other. But this is the end, I thought. I just want someone to fix it. I didn’t care if it was the saint, a god, or even a hero. Anyone would do.
How could I comfort Paula? If Fago found out the truth, would it go well? Did I even have the right to decide something like that? No answers were forthcoming to my worries, so I remained silent. Then, cutting into my thoughts, Paula spoke to us.
“Come on, don’t make those gloomy faces. The most precious thing in life is a smile.”