Author's note: Sorry for the delay, everyone. I write about COVID for my job, and with the latest surge, I'd be too down at the end of the work day to be creative. Thanks for sticking with me!

Chapter 9

"I gradually remembered more and more things. I understood that the place where I was sleeping was actually meant for washing. When I found a circle of rocks, I figured out that it was meant for burning wood. It took me time to make a flame, but once I did, my life became much better. I could cook acorns, and later little animals. I had accidentally found a snare while walking on the paths through the woods, and once I took it out of my ankle, I realized I could use it too.

"I didn't see myself until the third day I'd lived in the bathroom, when the frost on the glass melted. I jumped away from the scarred man at first. But he jumped away in fear too. I moved closer, and so did he. I touched my face, and he did too. And I felt the scars under my fingers, just where they were on him.

"I'd never given much thought to what I looked like. But this face didn't feel like mine. I don't know how long I stared before I accepted that this was me.

"I'd never given any thought to beauty, either. I knew that looking at the sun rise and set made me happy. So did looking at people. I'd never seen a truly ugly creature, though, until I looked at myself. The sight made me unhappy, even though I didn't really understand why. Maybe looking at me made other people unhappy too, and that was why they hurt me. I still didn't fully understand, but it made me surer that I should avoid people forever.

"Until the family came.

"They were living out of one of those big boxy cars. I think it's called a van. An old man, a young man and woman, and a little girl. They looked nice enough, but I didn't dare get close. They'd come while I was away from my bathroom home, so I couldn't sneak back in and had to stay in the woods. Fortunately, the days were getting warmer, so I could stand it.

"During the day, I'd stay hidden in the brush nearby. I was close enough to hear, but far enough that they couldn't see me. That was better. I liked listening to them. Gradually, I realized I understood more and more of what they said to each other. It wasn't like learning. It was like remembering a dream that was far-off and fuzzy.

"At night, I'd go into the woods to check my snare and find whatever else I could to satisfy my hunger. I realized quickly that they barely had enough. I couldn't take the little bit they had. They didn't seem pleased when I left them a chipmunk I'd caught, but they were happy when I left wood for the fire. Not that they knew it came from me.

"After I'd found whatever I was going to eat each night, I would practice speaking. I had no real idea if I was doing it right. I just listened to my own voice. At first it stumbled, like climbing over rocks. Gradually it got smoother, until my voice could almost run like theirs'. Sometimes, I liked to imagine introducing myself and telling them I had brought them the wood. I would picture their fear melting into friendship. Yes, I was ugly, but surely I could made them look past that. I would tell them how beautiful their love for each other was, and how could they turn me away? All I wanted was to sit with them by the fire and talk and listen.

"But then I discovered it was more complicated than that.

"I was going to sneak into the bathroom after dark, to give myself a little wash. I almost ran into the father and barely managed to duck back into the shadows. He looked up at the rustling, but he must have thought it was just an animal. He went back to looking at the rectangle, which glowed and lit up his face. It was the same as the rectangle I had. Mine wouldn't glow, though, no matter what I did with the buttons. I saw him take out the cord he'd put into the little holes on the outside wall of the bathroom. Of course.

"It wasn't really stealing, since I was going to put it right back. I waited until they were off walking together and took the cord from their van. I quickly plugged in my rectangle. It lit up immediately. I pressed the front button, and numbers came up. There were six little circles that filled in when I pressed a number. I tried all sorts of combinations, but it just shook. That couldn't be all it was meant to do. I was frustrated by my failure, but I returned the cord and decided to try again another day.

"Later that day, though, it began singing. A word popped into my mind: "phone." It showed me a green circle and a red circle. I pressed the green one, without really knowing why.

"'Victor?' someone said. 'Victor, damn it, answer me.' She went on like this for a few minutes. Then there was a beep, and no more voice. I looked at the phone, and it was dark. I wondered if Victor was my name. It didn't sound right, but my face didn't feel right either, so maybe it was my name.

"Later, when I was lying alone in the dark, I took out the phone again. I was missing something. I looked at the numbers, and noticed the letters beneath them. How did I know they were letters? No one had taught me to read, or even what letters were. But I'd see signs marking the trails, and think, of course that's what they say. I'd never written a word before, but I could imagine one in my mind. V-I-C-T-O-R. I tried it. It showed me all sorts of colorful little squares.

"I tried a few, without really understanding what to do with them. Then I tried the one with the flower made of all the colors. It showed me a picture of a man and a woman. The woman was standing close to the man, with her hand on his chest, and the man had his arm stretched forward, though I couldn't see his hand. I stared at them. They looked so beautiful and happy. I knew I'd never seen the woman before, but the man looked strangely familiar. His hair was like mine: brown and curly. I wondered if maybe I belonged to them.

"That made me both happy and unhappy. I wanted so much to belong to someone. But how would I find them? I was puzzling over this, and the phone went dark. I frantically tried to reopen their picture, but I touched the wrong button. There was another image of the man. This one looked different, though. I accidentally brushed the triangle below it, and it started to move. Of course it did. It seemed like he was talking to the phone. Then he turned and showed – me?

"It looked like me, lying there on a table. I didn't understand. Why was I just lying there sleeping? Why didn't I move when he touched me? Then he cut into me, while still talking to the phone. Why didn't I cry out in pain?

"I watched the whole thing. How he cut parts of me away and sewed new ones in. New skin. New insides. He even put on a new hand and a new leg. I stretched out my legs and noticed how one was shorter, just like in the video. I buried the phone in some leaves.

"I couldn't sleep that night, and I couldn't focus enough to find food the next day. I think my brain was trying to make sense of it. Or maybe trying not to. I watched again, and it began to sink in. When he talked about dead material, he meant me. I had been dead, and he'd made me live.

"I tried washing. I thought maybe if I scrubbed hard enough, there would be good skin underneath, and I would be a person, like everyone else. But it didn't work. I scrubbed until it hurt, but my skin only turned pink for a little bit. Then I was that ugly yellow again. I tried to peel off the scars, but that didn't work either. There was blood underneath, but no good skin.

"I don't know how to explain what I felt. It felt like when I'd stumbled across a dead deer with bugs crawling all over her. All I wanted was to get away from the sight and the smell. But now the thing I wanted to get away from was inside me. I wasn't just an ugly man. I wasn't a person at all, but I didn't know what else I could be. I understood why people hated me. I hated myself too."