Page 181 of Tiger's Voyage
He paused. “How could you what?”
I blushed. “How could I marry and have children? I wouldn’t be able to chase the kids around the house. My husband would be ashamed. And that’s only if I could convince someone to marry me.”
Ren watched me with an indiscernible expression. “Are you finished? Are there any more fears you haven’t shared?”
“I guess that’s it.”
“So you’re frightened that you won’t be normal, you won’t be attractive, and you won’t be able to properly fulfill your responsibilities.”
I nodded.
“I can identify with not being normal, but if the decades at the circus taught me one thing, it’s that normalcy is an illusion. Each person is utterly unique. A standard of normalcy is something that most people of the world simply will never access. A husband ashamed of his wife doesn’t deserve her, and I will personally make sure such a man never makes your acquaintance.
“As far as you being attractive or attaining a man’s interest, I can guarantee that even if both of your legs were removed, I would still find you beautiful, and I would still desire you.” Ren smiled while I twitched. “And children are a responsibility of both parents. You and your husband would balance the work between you in a way that was comfortable for both of you.”
“But I’d be a burden to him.”
“You would not. You’d lighten his burden because you love him.”
“He’d have to wheel me around like a grandma.”
“He’d carry you off to bed every night.”
“You’re not going to let me wallow are you?”
“No. Now can I check your leg?”
“Fine.”
He smiled. “Fine. Now hold still.”
He whispered a command to the Divine Scarf to gently remove the blood-crusted bandages from my leg and make new, soft cloths. He asked the Pearl Necklace to create a basin of warm water. My toes emerged first, and I was relieved to see them healthy and pink. But as the threads disappeared around my calf, I shut my eyes and turned away. Ren said nothing, but dipped a cloth into the water and began cleaning my leg. It felt like my leg was all there, but I didn’t want to risk looking.
“Can you talk to me? Distract me so I won’t think about it,” I asked tightly.
He pushed my once beautiful but now salt-crusted skirt over my knee and gently wiped under and around my kneecap.
“Alright. I wrote a new poem recently. Will that be sufficient?”
I mutely nodded and whimpered as Ren swiped a tender spot.
“It’s called ‘The Caged Heart’.” He began and his warm voice washed over me, soothing me the way it always did.
The Caged Heart
Does the caged heart diminish?
No! It beats more fiercely.
It paces
Bound not by locks and iron bars
But by his own hand.
He crushes his heavy heart.
He holds it back
