Chapter 2 - Meeting My Charges

The house was big and beautiful. There was a spiral staircase going up to the second floor. I was going to like it here. I thought. Maggie never smiled and any attempt by me to start conversation with her met with stony silence. After she showed me to my room and closed the door behind her, I flung myself on the bed and bounced up and down.

"Yes, Yes. Yes!" I said happily. I jumped so hard that the veil almost came off. It was all right since I was alone but that was something that must never happen in public.

Oh, I had learned if nothing else to make sure the veil never came off, not even by accident. Experience is the best teacher they say. Well, experience had taught me to call attention away from the veil. I knew it would not bother Mr. Adams, who knows, in time he may even get to like it.

After a light tap on the door, Maggie said that it was time to meet the children. Trish (Patricia) was 7 and Junior, 4. "I’m very excited about meeting the children, Maggie.
What can you tell me about them?" I asked.

After a brief glance at me, she looked away. At first I thought she did not hear me. "Would you mind telling me what the children are like?"

"You’ll see that for yourself soon enough." I nodded.

"What happened to their mother?" I ventured to ask.

"Not that it’s any of your business…" Maggie began and proceeded to tell me the whole story anyway.

I managed to gather from Maggie that their mother had died three years before around the time I began to wear the veil. They were both beautiful well-behaved children. I was going to love this new job.

"Servants take meals in the kitchen." Maggie informed me.

"I’m sorry, Maggie, but I would prefer to take my meals alone in my room." I informed her. She gave a reproving look and made no comment. It was not that I didn’t long to be with the rest of the staff, but watching me eat was not a pleasurable sight.

Later, I helped Maggie put the kids to bed. They stared at the veil. I knew that there would be questions, but for tonight, they said nothing. Although it was early I decided to retire myself.

Alone in my room that night I stared into the mirror. Dare I touch that mass of twisted flesh, that called itself my face?

All of the pain of the accident and its aftermath came flooding back and a tear fell. I wiped at it very annoyed with myself. I was long since passed crying over my fate. No more tears. I remembered that once I had had hope. The best cosmetic and plastic surgeon in the world was called in for my operation.

"If anyone can help you he can." They had said. Several more tears fell and I slammed my fist on my knee. "No!" I scolded my self. "Don’t think about it. Don’t think about it." I chanted, trying desperately to change my line of thought.

"Such glorious eyes," the doctors had whispered to his nurse when he thought I was asleep. "Too bad we couldn’t do anything for the rest of her face. She must have been quite a looker before this."

"Too bad Dr. Callahan couldn’t take the case." The nurse had replied and the doctor nodded his agreement. "I’ve seen him work miracles. This young lady needed a miracle."

Self-pity crept up on me. I began unpacking a few things I’d brought with me. This included a picture of myself and Harold, my ex fiancé. I don’t know why I didn’t throw that photo away. It was over between us. We had both agreed. After the second surgery he was so hopeful as I was.

During the third and forth surgery things began to go wrong. My face seemed to get worst instead of better. The trauma of the surgeries after the trauma my already weakened facial muscles had sustained made it impossible for the surgical scars to heal properly.

Harold was there with me every step of the way to cheer me on and hold my hand. Then when they took the bandages off, I didn’t need a mirror to know the truth. It was reflected in their faces. In what I call the look. The look I’ve seen in every face since who saw what was beneath the veil.

Harold and I were thru for his own good. Oh, he said it didn’t matter, he said he still loved me, but I had to let him go. He deserved a wife with a face that he could bear to look at. I would never marry, that was decided. I could never do that to anyone.

There was one guy, since Harold, who professed to love me no matter how I looked. I tried to tell him. I told him he wasn’t strong enough to withstand marriage to someone with a face like mine, but he insisted. He wanted to see my face. He would prove his love to me. He kept insisting so strongly that after a few months I gave in.

I removed the veil. The room was silent for a moment as he frowned and averted his eyes. "Good God, Angelica, what did they do to you? I didn’t know. I had no idea!" He cried covering his eyes to block out the hideous sight. I quickly replaced the veil while he threw up his dinner.

It’s a little better now with this last surgery. My bones were reconstructed. I had received steroid injections and done exercises that strengthened my facial muscles. The last surgery was a minor success. My appearance was better but not much. I was kidding myself to think that somewhere out there was someone who could bear my face who would not give me the “Look” when he saw me unveiled. If there were such a person, I would marry them.

I knew there was not. Even doctors cringed when they saw me. They could hardly contain their grimaces and Mr. Adams, poor Mr. Adams. He had made me angry for a moment; I had almost shown him my face. I had prepared myself for the look then suddenly he gave in and gave me a week’s trial. One week...I had a week to make myself indispensable.

Trisha and Junior had stared at the veil. I knew tomorrow would be a long day. I knew there would be questions about the veil. I touched my face; still no feeling, just deep groves.

I concentrated and did my massages, fingered the scares, applied the salve and placed the veil in a drawer. I no longer grimaced at my own reflection. I felt no emotion whatsoever as I stared. Trying hard not to begin reliving the accident tonight, I flicked off the light and climbed into bed.

"Please, not tonight." I prayed. The squeal of tires, feeling of floating as I hurled through the air my face smashing into the wind shield, my body moving thru it, feet catching on the seat belt and being drug along the pavement by my chin. The sound of bones cracking; searing pain, ripping flesh, silent screams. "Mother!
Nooooo!" Sleep.

Only bits and pieces of that night came back to me. As always memory of pain, intense pain and visions of my mother slowly dying before my eyes. It was with very shaky legs that I went into the children’s nursery the next day.

"Good morning, children." I said happily.

"See!" Randy Junior said. "She has it on. I told you so." Trisha kicked him.

"Trisha that’s not very lady like, dear." I scolded gently.

"But this one is different," Junior continued. "prettier than the last one."

"Shut up, June bug!" Trisha said.

"Trisha! Come over here, both of you. Now you are probably wondering why I wear these veils." I said calmly, looking from one of them to the other. "Well, it’s part of my life now. I must wear a veil always understand?"

Junior nodded, but Trisha said. "Why, Miss Walker?"

"Call me Angelica, honey."

"Why, Angelica? Why must you always wear a veil?"

"Because..." I replied, groping for an answer "because if I ever take the veil off or if someone takes it off of me. I’ll lose my job and I may never find another." I replied true fully.

"Do you have a face like ours?" Trisha asked. I expelled a breath. I knew there would be questions. When I couldn’t sleep the night before I had sat up wondering how I could answer them.

"Yes, honey, I do have a face with eyes, nose and mouth, but not like yours. I have
…scars and the area under the veil is not very pretty. It’s not pretty at all. Do you want to see it?"

They both nodded. "Okay...but first I’ll have to warn you that it may frighten you…you see I’ve been in a car accident and…and well there was very little they could do for my face. It was badly hurt. Do you understand?" They nodded. "Brace yourselves, I don’t want you to be afraid."

They nodded again. "All right. Come closer." I ordered and expelled a breath. "Are you ready?" I asked and when they answered. "Okay here
goes…"

"Trisha!" Junior yelled, holding his sister.

"Ugh!" Trisha said, looking away and covering her mouth with her hand.

"Yulk!" Junior said as I quickly replaced the veil. Trisha closed her eyes to block out the picture of horror that I knew still lingered in her mind. Although the veil was back in place I knew they both could still see it. I waited patiently.

"This should teach you both to always wear your seat belts." Trisha looked up at me.

"Does it hurt?" She asked and I could have kissed her. I took her into my arms.

"Not anymore, darling. I can’t feel anything there anymore. Now you both see why I must remain covered and father must never know." They nodded in unison.

"Very well, now for today’s lesson we will learn the fifty states and their capitals." The children and I were great friends after that. The week seemed to fly by.

Click to go to "Chapter 3 - Facing Co-Workers" 
Or here to go to "The Veil"   by Magdalena