The Journey by John Marsden Read Free Book Online Page B

myself. I don’t have to do anything; people pay to see me as I am, whereas other people have to go and dig potatoes or trade or fish or sew clothes in order to keep themselves alive. They’re unlucky that their freakishness just isn’t as obvious as mine, so they can’t make much of it. Then there’s the ones who worry that people can’t tell that they’re a lusus, so they set out to make themselves a bit more conspicuous. They don’t believe people can see it when it’s on the inside of them, so they recreate it on the outside, just to be sure. They’re the ones who dress funny or paint their bodies or mark themselves. Do you know, I knew a man once, he had messages carved into his skin, all over his body, whole sentences, so you could read him like you’d read a book.’
    â€˜What did they say?’ asked Mayon with interest.
    â€˜Oh, all sorts of things,’ Ruth chuckled. ‘I remember up his left leg it said: “We always go too far.” ’ She shook with helpless mirth. ‘Now ain’t that the truth! It’s always the simplest words are the truest.’ She became serious again. ‘But you know, all he was trying to do was to let people know he was a lusus. As if everyone doesn’t know that about everyone else already!’
    â€˜How do you mean, everyone is?’ Argus asked shyly.
    â€˜Oh my dear,’ the fat lady said. ‘We’re all different, aren’t we? So we’re all freaks to each other. Now you look at Mayon here. The way his eyebrows meet in the middle like that. And have you ever noticed his hands? His little finger’s as long as his fourth finger.’ Mayon gravely held his hands out for inspection, while Ruth continued. ‘There ain’t a person been born that you can’t find something like that about them. But it’s not just on the outside, it’s on the inside too. Take the other day, when Mayon was reading his book by candlelight, and he got too close to the candle and the book caught on fire — why, everyone else was running around looking for a bucket full of water, and Mayon, what was he doing? Sitting there laughing, that’s what.
    â€˜And another thing, you watch him when he’s about to start eating. He closes his eyes for a minute and says something — very quietly, so that no-one notices but me. And you ask him what he thinks about burials, and what he wants done with his body after he dies. You see, he’s got different reactions and thoughts and opinions from everyone else, and so have we all, and that’s another way we’re all freaks.’
    â€˜My nose has got a big bump in the middle,’ said Argus. ‘And I’ve got a birthmark on my right leg.’
    â€˜Course you have dear,’ said Ruth. ‘It’s all a matter of degree. With me, my fat’s more obvious, and on a bigger scale than the bump in your nose, that’s all. Now imagine if that bump was the size of a coconut. Why, you’d be able to have my kind of life then, and very lucky you’d think yourself too.’
    â€˜I don’t think I’m lucky,’ said Tiresias, speaking for the first time. He was sitting in the shadows, and Argus could only just make out his slight, ambiguous figure.
    â€˜No, well dearie, that’s because you accept other people’s judgements about you, instead of making up your own mind. You’ve got to look at yourself from your point of view, not someone else’s, and decide for yourself what your good points are, and then what you don’t like, and want to change. It’s no good being unhappy because other people say you should be. Just like it’s no good being happy when everyone tells you how well off you are. The things they think you should feel good or bad about mightn’t be the things that mean much to you. People tell you to listen to the song of the thrush, when in your heart you