STORY: THE MAN WITH NO FACE



Photo Credits: Jim G

“This is the last chance you’re going to get. Make it count.” Gary, the man at the job placement agency tells me looking down his big nose over his glasses. The stuffy air was suffocating and his look of disappointment made it all the worse.

“Yes. I’ll do my best.” The last five jobs I was placed at didn’t work out and this one didn’t seem very promising either. But, I can’t blow it off. My family is counting on me to make it work this time.

After shaking hands with Gary, I walked briskly to the doors of that airless building. Breathing a sigh of relief that I made it out of there.

Tomorrow at noon I had my interview at the Greystone’s house. I wasn’t surprised when I saw the listing for a housekeeper/chef/other listed under their name. They owned the most lucrative winery in Traverse City and their house is what you would expect of people who make that exorbitant amount of money.

I get in my little blue Jetta and pulled away from the hustle and bustle of midday in the town center. I roll my windows down to rid myself of the feeling of that stuffy building. After five minutes of driving I turn down my street and pull into the driveway of my childhood home.

My parents weren’t able to afford sending me and my two older sisters to college. I had always been a home body so I chose to stay.

I walked in the door, sliding my boots and my coat off simultaneously.

“Dinner is served!” My mom yells from the next room. Setting the last plate on the table.





Waking up the next day, I had a new sense of determination. I said goodbye in rush, holding my resume in one hand and a piece of toast with butter in the other.

When I arrived at the Greystone’s house, I took a deep breath to steady my nerves.

“I can do this.” I repeated to myself for the tenth time on my car ride here.

I stepped out of my car and headed to the massive door. Before I even step foot on the mat the door opened for me.

“Hello! You must be Elliotte! Come in, come in. Mrs. Greystone is waiting for you in the sitting room.” A plump kind looking woman opened the door for me and led me to the sitting room that was bigger than my kitchen and living room combined.

“Hello Elliotte. I am Mrs. Greystone.” She said with a formal uninviting tone that made me feel like I was intruding on something. Reaching out her hand, she shook mine with a feather light grip.

The rest of the interview seemed to go alright. Though I wasn’t sure because of Mrs. Greystone’s blank expressions. I really did need this job and I hope that even she could see that I was willing and able to work hard for the money. The job was for their guest house, where her old son, Will, lives.

“Alright, that is all I need to know. You can start tomorrow, correct?” She says looking down at the paperwork in front of her.

“Oh, I got the job?!” I say with a little too much enthusiasm. Clearing my throat I say, “I mean, yes, I can start tomorrow. Definitely.” Nodding with as much professionalism as I can muster.

“Great.” She says, standing up. “I will see you tomorrow to go over, in detail, what I expect from you.”

With a curt nod, I am escorted out. Walking the cobblestone driveway to my car, I can’t help but do a skip or two out of pure excitement. Once I got in my car, I started playing over what she said during the interview.

“He does not like to be seen by the workers. So you must knock before entering a room and once your tasks are done, make yourself scarce.”

I couldn’t help but wonder why he doesn’t want to be seen.





My days go by quickly as I orient myself to this new job. I try to find clues as to what Will actually looks like. I have seen no photos around the house. So, I am left to wonder. The conversation from yesterday with my two older sisters played on repeat in my head.

“That is so weird. You should just poke your head through the door one day. Oh! Or ‘accidentally’ open the door as though you didn’t hear him respond.” One of my sisters suggested.

“Yeah. I couldn’t imagine being in someone’s house, let alone working for them, and not knowing what they look like. Does it not drive you insane?” My other sister said.

I try to shake the thoughts out of my head but they wouldn’t leave. So, I decided to listen to them. I knock lightly on the door and open it before Will has a chance to reply. I am greeted immediately with a scowl across a once beautiful face, mutilated by a scar that stretches from the right side of his dark brown hair all the way to the left side of his chiseled chin.

I shake my head to clear my thoughts, shocked to finally meet Will face to face.

“I am so sorry, Will, I mean Sir. I didn’t hear. I swear I knocked. I really didn’t mean to barge in like this.” I say quickly stumbling over the words that spill out of my mouth.

Will simply turned away with a sad look on his face and sighed heavily, dismissing me. I quickly turn to the door and shut it behind me. I slide down the outside of the door to sit, my legs weak with fear of losing my job. I shed a single tear. Partially for myself and my family, but also for the man on the other side of the door. Unwilling to show the world his face.







Author’s Note:
This story was a mix between Cupid and Psyche, the book/movie You Before Me and a little bit of Beauty and the Beast. It was hard to think of something that would make someone hide their face from everyone. Yet, there are plenty of people with serious face scarring that don’t hide from the world. I wanted to write about something at least relatively realistic. The setting in the beginning of You Before Me was very similar. The main character goes to the job agency in her town. She gets a job at a mansion where she is to clean the house, and eventually befriend, a man with physical disabilities. I felt like this setting was a realistic to set my story around. I hope you liked it!


Bibliography:
Apuleius's Cupid and Psyche: link to the reading.