Mythshaper

I observed the bearded man from behind the neatly cropped hedge fences as the sun beamed overhead. Mum was there with him in the garden, sitting close, their hands clasped together as though they had known each other for a long time. Well, that had to be true if what Mum explained last night was to make sense.

The man was still barefoot, just as the day he was born and when he arrived last evening, though he had lost much of his homeless bum look after finally getting a bath, healthy food, and a roof over his head. However, his hardened presence was unmistakable. He was easily a towering figure of two metres, built like a boulder or an unmovable tree that had stood the test of a hundred ashen storms.

“You need to lose that blighted beard,” Mum told him as she stood up. Her hand was still in his grasp. “Just wait a minute, I’ll bring the utensils. And no, I won’t take no for an answer. You frightened Arilyn enough last night.”

He finally let go and lay back on the lush grass. A minute later, Mum returned with a box and a mirror.

“It’s not exactly shaving equipment, but I guess we can make it work,” she said, holding up a spoon whose edge soon turned razor-sharp under her power. I had no idea all this time she could shape metal without any effort. The man, on the other hand, gave no indication of surprise.

“Now, sit back and let me do my magic.”

“Hey, Arilyn,” the familiar voice of Eran rang in my ears, followed by a pat on my shoulder.

I spun around and shut my friend’s mouth with my palm. “Shh!”

“What are you doing?” Eran whispered, freeing his mouth.

“Nothing,” I said with all the nonchalance a kid my age could muster, “just snooping around, sneaking here and there.”

“Sneaking?” Eran followed my gaze. “That’s your home, though.”