Lily Strong

Saving Beauty and The Beast Lily Strong

Who is it that I see in the mists?I see him through the mists of dawn. The apparition which had scared me witless, is actually a ghastly man on a wheelchair. His face is bandaged. His eyes I cannot see. The white gauze covering his skin just below his forehead which slashed to parts of his cheeks remind me of a scene from a war movie I had watched during my university days. "Is someone there?" His deep voice growls at me. "I am sorry. I did not see you." I say. "Are you blind?" He asks in a dry voice. Touché. He is indeed blind. "No, but it is always misty here by the sea and the sun has not quite risen." I answer back. I think of running away from him. He cannot possibly see, can he? Then I wonder if he could hear well. Am I as nimble as I think I am? Or will my gargantuan shoes give way?"Still there?" He asks. His voice is like roaring thunder. A redundant question but I still think about running. He does not wait though and lashes out at me. "I was wondering if you know where I can find someone to work for me the next three months." He says suddenly. I look beyond him, into the mists that do not hide the gargantuan size of his yacht. The sneakers I once called gargantuan pale in comparison. A whole lot. The word Equanimity is plastered on its side. It is one of the grandest I have ever seen. "You need crew or domestic help for your yacht?" I ask. I think that I can cook him the local cuisine if he is looking for a chef or more down to earth cook I will say. He is not local judging by that blond hair, the paleness of skin which has yet to see sun... Back to my premature job targeting, it will not matter that I am not a good cook or whether it is actually authentic. He will never know. Filthy rich like him only come once to this God-forsaken place and then never come back. "Not exactly. I am looking for something on a more interpersonal level." He says. My eyes widen and I am glad that he is blind. He will not catch my extreme surprise. "This part of the country is more conservative than the northern coast. If you sail a few more hours to the north, you will come across the pier of Belatek Island. It is touristic and you can find what you are looking for there." I say. "How do you know what I am looking for?" He asks, in a crisp voice. It is horribly hard to read his expression because his face is a total mask with that gauze. "Belatek has women." I say, without batting an eyelid...