“Hey, you! Stop where you are.”
But the man kept coming and never looked up.
What should I do now? “Who are you and what do you want? This is my land, and you're trespassing. Now, go away before I shoot you.” I still remembered how to use Father's gun, but it had been years since I shot the weapon.
He stared at the ground. Why would he not look up? I knew it was the same man from the hillside. I was sure of it. He spun around and stepped away from the castle without saying a word. Who was this man? I had to know. I'd be leaving tomorrow anyway, and if I didn’t find out now, I'd never know.
“Wait!” I yelled. “Wait!” Not that I expected him to stop. I had just threatened to shoot him. “I'm coming down!” He kept walking. I opened my parents’ trunk at the end of my bed, and grabbed the loaded rifle just in case. I headed down the spiral staircase as fast as my feet would take me. I did my best to stay quiet, but I had to hurry or he would be gone. I needed to know who he was, what he wanted, and why he had been watching me from the hillside.
I ran past the gardens toward the mysterious man. What was I doing? No turning back now. “Wait!” I paused, panting for air. I wasn't used to running this hard. Why did I need to know anything about him? Something was drawing me. I had to find out who he was and what he wanted with me.
The man stopped.
I stopped running when I got about twenty feet from him, lifted the rifle and aimed. “Who are you and what do you want?” I demanded. “You've been watching me from the hill. I've seen you.” Still out of breath I took deep breaths as I waited for him to answer. I was shaking so much I had to withdraw my finger from the trigger, but I kept it close.
The man said nothing.
I took a few steps toward him, then a few more. I was close to him now. I could reach out with Father's rifle and touch his back. Still he didn’t move a muscle.
“What's your name?” I asked in a calmer tone.
The man slumped his shoulders then shook his head. He wasn't going to tell me. I took another step forward. I could hear him breathing. “Please, tell me your name.”
“I can not,” he whispered.
“Why not?” I closed one eye and readjusted my grip on the gun.
“I just can not. I am sorry to have bothered you. It will not happen again.” There was sadness in his voice. He put his hands in his pockets then started walking away.
“Wait!” I yelled then jogged to catch up with him. I didn't stop behind him. No, I was going to stop directly in front of him. I would make him stop. I had the gun.
When I approached he stopped moving and covered his face with both hands. “Go away! Do not look at me! Just leave me alone.” He held his head down.
“What's wrong with you?” I asked. Why was he covering his face? Leprosy was out of the question. His hands looked fine. “Look at me,” I said.
For a man who had watched me from the hillside for I don't know how long, a man who approached a dragon-guarded castle in the black of night, he sure seemed scared of something.
“I'm not leaving until you tell me why you're here and what your name is.” I could be stubborn, too. I wasn't some young innocent girl anymore. Looks were deceiving.
Was he crying? The whimpers were unmistakable. I dared to lower the rifle and step closer to him.
“What’s wrong? Let me help you.” I reached forward and touched one of his hands. He jumped and pulled his hand away like he’d been shocked with electricity. But, still, he kept his face covered.
“Do not touch me!” He moaned through the hands over his face. “Leave me alone.”
“Look, you're the one who came walking up to my home. Remember? Let me help you.” I tried to reassure him by placing the gun on the ground. If this was some kind of trick to disarm me, then it was well played.
“Nobody can help me.” He stepped away. “Please, just leave me alone. I am sorry I ever came.”
“Fine. But this is your last chance, because I'm leaving tomorrow, for good. So you won't see me anymore.”
His breathing stilled. Or maybe stopped.
How long should I wait? At least I tried. What more could I do, remove his hands by force? There must be a good reason for him not to look at me. “I'll leave then.” I picked up my gun and walked away.
“I am sorry. Please, wait.”
I stopped, but didn't turn around. “What do you want with me?” I began to turn.
He gripped my shoulders and stopped me.
My fingers tightened on my gun. I could knock him out with it if I had to.
“Please, do not turn around. Do not look at me. Please.”
Why did he not want me to look at him? What was he hiding?