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Even more, his voice carried a mix of defiance and insecurity, a bravado that seemed to mask a deeper vulnerability. He flexed his muscles and bared his teeth, but the slight quiver in his voice betrayed him.
He seemed to be trying to convince himself as much as his audience of how fierce he was.
I thought of Lunita and her nickname for me.
Mean ole lion. No. This could not be the source.
A surge of annoyance surged in my chest.
Was this how she saw me?
As some caricature of a lion man, prancing around in a costume, more laughable than fearsome?
The thought was unsettling, demeaning even. I prided myself on my strength, my ability to instill fear, respect, or at least recognition of my authority.
But this. . .this was a mockery.
I looked back at the little girl. “Lunita calls me a mean ole lion.”
The little girl giggled.
I frowned. “You think that is funny?”
She bobbed her head.
“And do you think I am a mean ole lion too?”
“No.” She widened her eyes with this sweet innocence. “You are a nice, strong lion.”
“Good.” The frown left me. “Thank you.”
At least one alter understands me.
I gazed back at the TV and now the idiot man in the lion costume ran away from a tiny dog.
Hmmm.
The irony was not lost on me. Here I was, a man feared and respected in the real world, yet in Lunita’s mind, I had been reduced to a figure of ridicule.
The parallels between the lion’s false bravado and my own facade of invulnerability were uncomfortably clear.
Was I, too, just prancing around in a costume, hiding my true fears and insecurities behind a mask of toughness?
If yes, I would never admit it out loud. Not to anyone. Not even my mouse.
I tensed.
The realization that Lunita, in her childlike wisdom, might have understood me better than I understood myself was humbling.
I felt a sudden, irrational urge to switch off the television, to erase the mocking image before me, but I resisted. This was a piece of Emily’s world, a clue, perhaps, to understanding her—and, by extension. . .maybe. . .myself.
The little girl spoke, “Lunita only calls you mean ole lion so she won’t be scared of you.”
“Hmmm.”
“Oh no. It is over.” Pavel grinned. “I actually enjoyed this performance. Bravo.”
I scowled and headed off. “Come on.”
