Jikiko’s Mask

Fiction by James Daviscourt

An old lady wandered down a crowded street, and although being shoved and pushed around, walked determinately down her path.  At the end of the street she sighted the peddler, and next to him his helibike.  She hurriedly hobbled up to him and asked, “Would you please take me to upper Landes?”

“Upper Landes you say, aye.  That will be three pence,” the lively peddler replied, while mounting his vehicle.  “Get on and hold tight!” he shouted as he began to peddle, and the blades in unison began to spin.  Quite suddenly, the vehicle lifted, and as usual all the heads turned to watch this marvel of technology, then once again continued on their ways.  The old lady watched as level after level of the streets and houses fell below them, and because having a certain fear of heights, tightened her grip on the man.

 

“There’s nothing to worry about,” the man said while managing a smile, “we’re already on ground.”  At this the little old lady quickly threw herself to the ground, seemingly hugging it.  She then stood up, pulled out the money, and handed it to the man.  “Thank you mam!” the man said as he began to peddle vigorously.  She stood there for a few moments, watching the machine fly, and then began on her way.

She once again began her hobbling journey through the streets, the only difference was that the people crowded around her weren’t poor, but actually quite rich.  She looked around at the clean and tightly packed shops, and continued walking in search of one which she would be willing to part with her money in.  One in particular caught her eye.  It was a shop with a huge clown mask engulfing the whole front of the shop, except the door, which was where the mouth would have been.  She bemused herself with this idea as she walked into the shop.
 

 The first thing the old lady noticed when she walked in was that there were no candles or torches to light the store, but rather the sunlight came through the giant eyeholes in the mask, which she had thought a prop, not the actual front wall.  Shifting her gaze down, she briefly looked over the many shelves neatly lined with strange masks, and then turned her attention to the sales desk in the middle of the room.  It was empty.  “A pity,” the old lady commented as she turned to leave the store.

“Why don’t you take a look around the shop,” hummed out a crazy looking man, “you might find something you like.”

“Aaah!” croaked the old lady as she stumbled backwards, “you shouldn’t sneak up on people like that.”  She looked him over from top to bottom, while he just stood there with the biggest smile she had ever seen.  He was dressed in clothes not all unlike those worn by jesters in ages past, and had neatly parted orange hair.  He was about forty.  She then decided he wasn’t crazy, but rather looked normal for this shop.  “Thank you, I think I will have a look around,” she said, but the owner had already slipped away.

The shop was larger than she thought, separated by straight rows of walls, each full with masks mounted on holders.  She walked admirably down each row, one at a time, and found it strange that each row seemed to have an isolation, at which nothing of the rest of the store could be seen.  One of the masks she came across inspired a curiosity, it seemed unique to her.  She looked down each side of the row to make sure the clerk wasn’t there, and then picked up the mask.  As she lifted it, she also noticed the stand was a mirror, like the mask was inviting her to put it on.  She lifted it in front of her face.  Translucent arms suddenly reached up to her face, and before she could throw the mask away her face she was locked in its grip, and the mask attached.  All went black. 
 

“Hunh? Where am I?” she groaned while lifting herself up.  She began to examine her condition.  “Aaaiyaahhh!  This can’t be, it’s impossible!” she yelled.  She was no longer old, but in fact once more a young child.  Her mind began jumping back to what had happened.  The shop, the man, the mask!  She looked down, and sure enough, next her feet lay that same mask.  She picked it up.

“My name is Dajo I brought you here,” the mask said nicely.

“Wah!” she yelled while dropping the mask.

“Ow!  For an old lady, you sure do yell a lot,” Dajo said jokingly.

“Old lady?  Oh!  Did you return me to youth?” the girl asked.

“I am afraid that is not my doing, it is in fact where we are that did that,” answered Dajo.  “You see, we are in a world of which only children, and the spirits live.  When you brought me up to your face, I bound on to you and brought you here.  I thought you could help me.  What is your name?”  the mask asked.

“Oh!  My name?  It’s Jikiko,” she answered.

“Very well Jikiko, will you help me?  You see, I left this world to find someone that that would.  I am a spirit of this world, and was separated from my kin in the forest when attacked by spirits of evil.  In this world, the good spirits and the children live together, but the evil spirits are bent on severing that harmony, and lust for the hearts of the children and good spirits alike.  My last wearer’s heart was stolen by such a spirit, and I was sent to your world to find another, or I would die.  I brought you here to take me to my kin, because they are the only ones that can help me.  I know the shortest way.  Will you help me?... or at least pick me up off the ground?”

“Oh!  Sorry!  Of course I’ll help you,” Jikiko replied, “It’s not like women my age, or at least used to be my age, have anything more adventuress to do.  In fact I’d love to.”

“Then I am in your debt,” stated Dajo.  He continued, “Look around us.  You can see we are on a dirt path surrounded on both sides by trees.  At a walking pace we would get to my kin in a week, but I know a faster way.  Let us wait here till dusk when the carrier spirit comes.”  And so Jikiko picked him up, and sat behind a tree off the road until dusk arrived.

A startling boom forced Jikiko out of her nap, and she quickly rose to see a large cloud of dust rushing down the road towards them in the distance. 

“What is that?” Jikiko asked while completely perplexed, and a little worried.

“That is the Carrier, and I cannot express how important it is that you show no fear around him!  He is a demon, but one that only lusts for the hearts of those that fear him!  Even so, he is our fastest mode of travel.  Summon him over with your voice when he approaches!” shouted Dajo over the loud boom.  And, sure enough, it was not long before the carrier reached them.

“Carrier!  We call upon your services!” Jikiko projected with all her might.

            Suddenly, out of the cloud of dust slid a black, hunched over demon with many undefined arms, and two powerful legs; he was pulling a cart. 

            Jikiko approached the carrier and asked, “May we make use of your services, great Carrier?”  She was of coarse heeding Dajo’s words and showing none of her feelings.  The demon stared at her for a short while, then reached back slowly to a sign on the cart.  It said spirits only.  Remembering Dajo, she quickly pulled him off her belt, and put him on her face.  The demon pulled back his hand and stared forward, signifying his readiness to leave.  Jikiko stepped onto the cart and sat in confusion as the demon turned and stared back at her.

            “Take us to the edge of the Donji Forest,” Dajo commanded over Jikiko’s face.  Almost immediately Jikiko was pressed into the back of her seat as the demon took off.  She soon lost  

sight of everything, and was trying hard enough just to breathe.  Her mind became scattered, and fell into blackness.

            Someone was calling her, and she opened her eyes to Dajo calling her awake.

            “We are here.  Only a short walk and I will be reunited with my kin, the Donji kids,” Dajo said softly.  Jikiko slowly stood up, and stepped off the cart.  She gave the carrier a short bow, and gripped the tree next to her as the carrier quickly darted away.  Guided by Dajo, she walked into the forest.  From there it was just another walk through the city, only without the people.  She wanted to explore and enjoy her hike, but Dajo seemed to want to get through this part of the woods as quickly as possible. 

            They arrived in an opening of the forest full of masked children, and Jikiko took note of the masks similarities to Dajo, yet each had a subtle difference.  The children slowly turned their heads from their work to see Jikiko standing in the tree gate, and slowly, they all wandered to her.

            “My kin, I have returned from the land of the humans!” shouted Dajo.  They looked into each others faces as if to convey a message, and then grabbed Jikiko’s arms, and guided her to the center of the village.

            As they walked her to the very middle, a boy with a mask closest in appearance to Dajo’s stepped forward.

            “My brother! You have returned!  When your body was destroyed, we feared the worst as you left.  Yet, here you stand before us.  Tonight, a feast shall be thrown in your honor!” the boy exclaimed.  There was great cheering, and preparations were soon underway.

            The feast was grand!  Music, dancing, even Jikiko lost herself in this great festival, and she could tell this was the happiest Dajo had been in a long time.  After many hours, Jikiko was escorted to her room, where she sat down and quickly fell asleep.

            Something startled Jikiko awake!  She looked around, but it was too dark to see.  She looked up to see the moon mid-sky, and red!  Something was wrong!

            “I feel it too!  There is evil here! We must leave immediately!” Dajo whispered in urgency.  But it was too late.  In front of Jikiko landed Dajo’s brother, only at night he looked all too different.  The light blue that colored his mask had turned red, and the child’s veins were glowing.  The mask had fangs, and the child had claws.  He looked like a demon.

            “Run!” Dajo shouted.

            Jikiko turned away from the demon, and sprinted towards the gate.  Two more demons ran like wolves in front of her, cutting the only escape route off.

            “I’ll protect you!” Dajo yelled as the demons sprang at her.  Out of thin air, a barrier encircled Jikiko as the demons attacked.  They were shot back as if hit by lightning, but more and more Donji children, now demons, kept appearing, and attacking.  Jikiko could soon feel Dajo weakening.

            “Jikiko,” despair lining Dajo’s voice, “I don’t think I’m strong enough to protect you.  I owe you a great debt, and I have so little energy left!”  Jikiko was confused, even out of her overwhelming fear.  A ring of transparent blue began to encircle her.  “My debt is paid,” Dajo pronounced, and Jikiko was wisped away.

            “Where am I?” Jikiko asked herself.  As she opened her eyes, she looked into the shopkeeper’s gaze.  But in his eyes was compassion, like he knew what Jikiko had experienced.

            “Would you like to purchase that mask?” he asked kindly.  Jikiko looked down.  The mask had faded and become gray.  She was sad.

            “Yes,” she answered.  She stood up, paid the man, and walked out the doorway of the store to be met by the same old pushing crowd she was used to.

James R. Daviscourt, age 16, contact: Joann.Schaeffer@medford.k12.or.us

 

Copyright 2008 James R. Daviscourt

Posted 5/22/2008