Medusa’s Reflection

Image by Morgan Lee

“Athena didn’t curse me that day…”

A welcoming ring, a tentative step. “Hello?”

With dim lighting, warm mist hanging low in the air, and life like statues of men screaming silent warnings, the small dank shop could falter the strongest of confidences. “I’m just out the back, be with you in a minute.” A feminine shout answered.

Sally took the moment to approach one of the shrieking sculptures. The white stone’s polished finish seemed mystical. Drawing her hand unconsciously to caress the shimmering glow in his chiselled cheek. Expecting rock, Sally met skin. Creamy, supple, almost warm. Almost alive.

“Got that in only yesterday.” Hair flared as eyes rushed to find sunglasses above a hundred watt smile. Skin born in the Mediterranean matched the heavy accent. What looked to be thick curly hair was hidden under a white scarf. Finally noting navy jean shorts, an olive green tank and black cons all covered in white dust Sally knew this had to be the shop keeper.

Wide eyes loosened as a frantic heart slowed in relief.  “I was engrossed in your statue, they seem so... real.”

A humorous snort, “I wish.”    

A pale, polite hand stretched out towards the shop keeper. “My name is Sally Jenkins.”

“Usa Minerva.” Dirt and sweat combined in a curt shake.

“I’m searching for a sculpture to put in my garden. Your shop Medusa’s Wares is new, so I thought I’d take a look.”

“What are you looking for?”

“Something that’s not screaming in agony.” Usa followed Sally’s nervous look over her shoulder.

“He’s a warrior about to face his doom at the hands of a monster.” With the added description, Sally did note the expert curves carved into the stone, highlighting thick leather armour encasing a tightly packed chest. A sturdy blade clenched tight in his lowered hand. “As his end dawns, it is not pain that scrunches his face into creases, its loss. Can you see it?”

Sally peered closer to the stone white face. The agonizing creases never pulled the warrior’s eyes shut. They were open, brows lifting from the centre, curving downwards in cruel defeat. “I appreciate the art you’ve created, but I’m looking for something more...” Sally turned, eyes searching for the word. “Happy.”

Pushing her sunnies further up her nose Usa swallowed her opinion of where Sally could shove her happy statues. But it wasn’t every day a person woke up and went shopping for sculptures. “Follow the path out to the back of the shop, you’ll find the sculptures and statues there more to your liking.”

Pleasant as a grim smile could be Sally hurried off down the path, disappearing behind the blind.

Usa watched the stiff fabric shift back into place before removing her sunglasses and scarf. Knowing the customer had good intentions in her shop, there was no harm her eyes could cause.

Another welcoming ring caused tension to spring to Usa’s shoulders. Two in one day? It seemed the adverts in the paper have worked. Getting use to being around more people was her next challenge.

“Don’t turn around Medusa.” A glistening sword taut against her neck stopped any movement to replace her sunglasses and scarf.

Medusa sigh was heavy. After deciding she wasn’t going to hide or run anymore, she knew eventually her path would cross with Mythos Hunters. Zealots on a self-righteous crusade to remove anything and anyone who deems their God incorrect. Since Medusa’s mere existence achieves that small task her head was always a highly coveted trophy.

“What do you want?” She asks, keeping her gaze trained ahead. Preferring her head where it was. This situation would require a different tact.

“The snakes on your head.”

“Please,” she begins begging, lifting her pitch. Panting to become breathless. “I don’t have snakes on my head. I don’t know what your talking about.”

“Yes you do. They’re snapping at me as we speak.”

“I don’t. I’m just here serving a customer. Please don’t hurt us.”

“You turn men to stone. A creature from the old Gods.”

“Please,” another beg, this time followed by sniffles. “I live in town, I promise I’m just doing my job. If you go now, I won’t report this to the police." 

There is only silence behind her. But she could tell the small, insidious claws of doubt were sowing seeds in the man’s mind.

Sword loose, warrior focus gone, Medusa acts quickly. Snatching the weapon, her nimble fingers angle the metallic surface until her reflection echoes behind her. “Please see, I’m just shop assistant.”

A stunned gasp, “You- You’re beautiful.” Wild gold hair. Hazel eyes. Tanned skin. Lips he could drink at . And an oval face that complimented curves stolen from an hourglass.

“It’s a trick!” The man hisses, backing away. But the grip on his sword jumps to his neck, immortal strength holding him and his weapon in place.

“Athena didn’t curse me that day. She saved me. Cursing the sight of any who behold my face with Poseidon’s intention. I am more than my reflection. More than my face. You just have to see past your intention. See the real me. See that I am just like you. Just trying to make my way in life.” Slowly Medusa’s eyes lift.

Golden blond hair draw his gaze first. His hand almost lifting to hold it. Sleek almond eyes, filled with a thousand tiny amber and green crystals crushed together, track his every move. Knowing what it saw in his own depths. “Why do you want to have me? You don’t even know me…” Medusa reminded the warrior.

Although he tried, he couldn’t do as she asked. Couldn’t see beyond his own desires. And slowly, so slowly, his shallow sight gave way to stone.

“This small fairy sculpture will do.” Usa whirled to face Sally as she re-entered the front.

A slight gasp, a momentary pause. “Why do you cover your eyes and hair like that, they’re so pretty.”

Usa inclined her head. “Thank you. That will be forty dollars.” She said, stepping around the counter to type the amount into her cashier machine.

Producing the money and accepting the change Sally smiled. “Thank you. Again your art is amazing.” Turning her veins solidify at the site that greets her. “That- that wasn’t there before.”

Looming over her short stature, the full body statue of white stone blocks the exit. A sword held high in a promised threat. A stony face carved to precision. Caught between terrifying agony and blissful surrender.

Usa joined Sally in observing the stone figure. “I pulled him out from behind the others, I thought he seemed more... happy.”

Sally carefully edges around the stone warrior, not wanting to touch it. But not wanting to take her eyes off the contorted face, with eyes that seemed to track her every move in return. “Thank you, but I’ll pass.” She quips, finally leaving the shop with a ring.

When the chime finally settles, a calm silence wraps around Usa. Taking in her store with a smile on her lips, she proudly tells her statutes, “ Not bad for the second day of opening.”