The Man in the Iron
Mask
I
use the name of the famous book as analogy for my opinion about an important
issue. This story is about a fictional character named Ty. I know this story
might be slightly exaggerated and blunt, but I do feel it will meet its purpose.
Although it is fictional, I have seen this in many males of almost every age today.
I of myself have had to face this problem square in the face, and decide what I
am going to do and be as result. I know that this is not an all-inclusive
treaty on the subject, but I feel that it does represent real life issues.
Lastly, I have sped up the circumstances and situations to get the reader right
into the meat of the problem. This post is used to illustrate a sad, and very
unfortunate state of affairs of the modern male sex.
Ty is a senior in high school. He is a
normal kid, not one of any real problems of any mental, emotional, or physical
kind. He is tall for seventeen. He reaches six foot three, with an athletic
build. He plays football and basketball on the varsity team. Ty is pretty
popular, and enjoys his life of open attention. He could get any girl in school
to date him if he wanted to; or at least that is what his posy of guys tells
him daily. After a few years of this kind of feeding, going from grade to grade,
Ty has even started to believe it himself.
Ty
has a little sister three years younger, who is very sickly. She has had some
unknown biological disease since birth. She is small, and not exactly pretty.
When both Ty and his sister were kids, they were pretty close. Ty protected her
from other people. He had a strong and loving connection with her. Everyday he
would help her out of the car to walk into school. Everyday he would eat lunch
with her, and spend time with her in the hallways.
But
as time does its magic of transforming a boy into a man, that childlike love
began to fade. Their once affectionate relationship changed. At first Ty began
to get annoyed with his shy sickly sister. She would come up to him at school,
while his friends surrounded him and ask him a question. Those that didn’t know
that they were siblings would stare at her in obvious disbelief that someone
like her would have the nerve to speak to him. Normally Ty was kind and tender
to his poor little sister. But he was around his friends, and in mixed company.
The girls in the throng watched Ty with obvious interest to see what he would
do to repulse this forlorn intruder. Kindness and love were for babies, not for
tall handsome football dudes. It was like the unspoken rule of the male universe.
He knew it. So did everybody else. Plus he had to keep his reputation up, as a
masculine alpha male didn’t right? Ty found himself in an uncomfortable
position. So he just ignored her completely. This happened more than once. His
poor decrepit sister would cry and slink away. Guilt would sweep throughout his
whole body at this moment. He would feel this awful burning in his eyes. He
would say to himself, looking after her small huddled figure, I love you sister. I do. I am sorry. I just can’t say it now. There are people
here, and I don’t want them to see…I don’t know, I just can’t. Big, tall,
handsome, and masculine Ty would be almost at the brink of tears for shame. But he had to stay in control. That was
the whole point. Showing emotions was weak. So he could only suppress this
waging battle within himself. The other kids, especially the girls were always
watching him—like he was some kind of prey.
After
these first few situations happened, (when no one else was around,) Ty would
tell his sister that he loved her. He asked her to not come up to him when he
was with his friends though. She told him she was sorry that she was making his
life difficult, and wouldn’t do it again. She was true to her word. What a good
sister she was.
That
year went on. For Ty, things only got better. He became the football captain
and started to date Alice Wood—the cutest most popular girl in school. Ty was
so drawn away in his fantasy world of cool kids around the block, that he
neglected his sister all together. Ty didn’t know how to be a good, loving
brother AND the football star all at the same time. Both seemed like they couldn’t
coexist. Ty was in inner turmoil. He felt trapped, frustrated, cornered by the
world and everyone in it at large. He felt like he couldn’t escape from his
feelings for his little sister, but also from what was expected of him by
everyone else as a strong soon to be man. He felt like a prisoner, trying to
hide his true identity behind an Iron Mast of emotion—that is, no emotions. Or as it was called, more appropriately,
the Iron Mask of man’s emotions.
Gentleness,
kindness and affection were not a football stars touch down goals. They were
for weak, girly, or momma’s boys. Those kinds of things were for lesser men. It
was for guys that couldn’t make it in the world of males; so they tried to
flirt with the line of both sexes to find a home. These were the very things
that Ty swore he wasn’t when he pounded his fist on the bathroom sink every
morning. But then, he would look up at himself in the mirror. When he did, he
found tears in his eyes, and some streaming down his cheeks. This angered him
more than ever. He didn’t even know he had been crying. He couldn’t feel the tears. His very soul was
betraying it’s self. It was as if he was at war with an unknown being who lived
inside his mind and heart. What he
wanted to see when he looked into the mirror was to see a Bruce Willis and Brad
Pitt staring back at him. But day after day, he only saw a boy in tears—wearing
a cold black Iron Mask.
Ty wanted to be there for his sister. He
wanted to go to her room every morning after his stare down with the Man in the
Iron Mask. But he didn’t know how to
do that in a manly way. He didn’t
know how to take the mask off, and
still find himself behind it. He couldn’t even walk into her room now. He
didn’t want her to see him cry. Ty never
cried. Or so everyone thought. This continual confusion resulted in bitterness
towards his life of long ago affection.
After
High school Graduation, Ty was preparing to go to Boston College on a full ride
football scholarship. He worked full time, and did various things. All the
while he still couldn’t figure out what and how he should behave. If he should
be this stoic no ‘pain nothing fazes me type of guy, or the one that says I am
sorry if that hurt your feelings, I shouldn’t have done or said that type of
guy.’ And quite frankly, he stopped beginning to care. It was easier not to
care. But he met the Man in the Iron Mask every morning at his sink, staring
back at him whether he cared or not.
His relationship with is little sister hadn’t
gotten any better in this furtherance of time. She became more ill by the day.
She couldn’t go out, and she rarely left her pink walled room. In fact, he
strangely despised her. It is you’re
fault I am feeling this way, Ty would sometimes think to himself. Where
love and caring once were, resentment and anger now ruled.
Ty
went away to college. He tried his best to forget all that happened to him in High
school. He tried to become a new man. He told himself everyday while putting on
his Air Jordan’s “You’re a man now Ty. You can’t let the past hurt you. You
can’t let ANYTHING hurt you. You’re made of iron. You’ve never cried in your
life!” Looking up, he saw himself in the mirror. The Man in the Iron Mask was
there gawking back nonchalantly.
Ty
lied to himself this way for weeks and months at a time. Soon, a year past.
Meanwhile,
Ty’s little sister started to loose the ability to walk. She was bed ridden.
Quickly following the loss of her legs, she began to loose her vision. Even
though her eyes were growing dim with darkness she would cry and call out for
Ty: Her big brother, her protector, and her friend. Her mother was at a loss of
what to do for her. The doctor’s said she didn’t have long.
Ty’s mother soon called to tell him to come
home. She told him that his sister was dying. She begged and cried and implored
him on the phone to come home. All Ty could do, was mumble, “Sure.” Looking up
from his chair, he caught the mirror in his sight. There he was, majestic as
ever, the cold, staring, unmoving eyes, peeping out of the Iron Mask.
Ty
flew home that weekend. His mother came to get him. He got home, and was
ushered into his sister’s pink colored paradise at once. He stumbled in
awkwardly to her bedside. She was breathing heavy, and slow. She turned her
sick little face towards her pillar of granite of a brother and said with a
sigh, “Ty…I..I have missed you.” Ty stood there shaking from head to foot. He
was holding in something that he didn’t understand, nor had the guts to let
escape. He just shook his head in acknowledgment. He didn’t dare open his mouth
for fear it would betray him. His sister reached for his hand, but couldn’t
reach. Ty wanted to take it in his, but he knew, oh yes, he knew if he did all
would be lost. All of his hard work would be gone in an instant. He turned and
walked firmly to the foot of the bed, and barely touched her covered foot.
Rubbing it for a moment of silence, he then in terror of being overcome ran from
the scene like he was being chased for committing murder. As he passed the
hallway to the back door, he saw in the hall mirror a man with an Mask of Iron
sealed firmly to his face.
That
night, his sister died.
Alone,
(she would not allow any other than her brother to come.) But no brother came.
She
slipped away, to uncharted territory, with no brother to hold her hand in the
quiet passing to the other side.
Grief and pain were rampant, except
where the Man in the Iron Mask was found. Trying to penetrate that black iron
defense was like trying to chisel through a stonewall with a plastic butter
knife.
That
coming week, the funeral was to take place. Everything was arranged. Ty’s dear
little sister’s body was soon in a casket of velvet. It was a gorgeous morning.
The sky was blue, Mother Nature seemed at peace with the beautiful soul it was
about to receive in its bosom. All was tranquil and silent. There were over a hundred
people in attendance. The family and friends were gathered around the lone,
single figure, lain in a coffin to rest. Songs were sung. Tears were shed by
many, but not by all. It then came time, for final good byes.
This
whole time, Ty stood straight, nobly, never moving, not even quivering. The Man
in the Iron Mask that had become Ty was at its pinnacle of self-mastery. But Ty
loathed himself with a resentment, and hatred that saw no bounds. He blamed
himself for his sister’s death. He blamed society, and this sick world for
making him think that to show compassion, love, kindness and gentleness to a
small little girl was weak and degrading to his self image as a man. That if he
were to do so, his value was decrease. He contemplated how he had falsely
believed that to be a man, you had to be able to let go of anything, no matter
the personal cost—and not care, or show any kind of emotional attachment to it.
He raged within himself about the many uncounted number of times he could have
shown his love and care for his sister—but now, he could not. He longed for her
to come back more than he longed for the happiness and redemption of his own
soul.
“TY!”
his mother’s sharp voice shot through him. Ty shook visibly, like coming out of
a trance. “Say good bye to your sister,” she said curtly, “heaven knows you
missed your chance the first time.” This stung worse than any injury, and went
deeper than any pain Ty had ever felt. But she was right. He deserved worse. He
dragged his feet to the head of his sister’s casket.
Ty
stood for what seemed like forever, rigid on the spot. Time stopped. All the
faces of the hundred or more people blurred in his vision. He looked down at
the now smiling face of his once lively and lovely sister. A ball, massive and
growing was swelling inside him. An eruption that would make Old Faithful look
like a popcorn popper was building deep down in his gut, and moving up his
whole frame. It was as if his very soul was about to depart his body and make
its exit out through his mouth.
Ty collapsed at the head of his sister,
his arms thrown around her, picking her up out of her casket and into his arms.
A wail of grief and anguish pierced the eternities that blasted out of his
soul. The sound would freeze the blood of the bravest of men in an instant. The
pure volume coming out of his lungs was louder than any amp speaker invented by
man. Ty had no idea HE was the one
making that awful, soul-wrenching cry. All he knew, is that he had failed, and
that his sister was gone. There were not single tears running down his face,
but more of an open pouring faucet. He said in-between groans and wails, “I am
sorry! I am so sorry! I loved you sister. I should have not cared what other
people thought of me. I should have shown you love and kindness no matter where
I was, or who could see me. I was confused, hurt, and not understanding what it
really means to be a man. I know now. Thanks to you. I know that it is to be
loving, kind, gentle and forgiving. I know that to be a real man, it means to
deny yourself. It means to love, and to show that love. It is so much harder to
love someone, than to hate them. It is so much easier to look down at a person,
than to look up at them. Please sister, come back. I will be you’re man that
you have always wanted and needed. I will, I will!” cried Ty over and over
again. But, to no avail. All she could do, was smile back at him.
All
at once Ty grabbed his own head violently as if he was trying to pull his own
hair out by the roots. He then pulled off an imaginary mask of iron. He then
stood up, and threw it with all the energy of his being! “I’m free,” Ty
exclaimed to himself with relief, gladly feeling
the tears of love and sorrow gushing down his raw cheeks. Ty then came to
himself, and looked around him for the first time in utter surprise.
Everyone
else screamed in fright from the wail of the banshee that had exploded out of
Ty’s goliath like lungs. All was in commotion. Kids were crying, mothers and
daughters were weeping at the scene of such brotherly grief. Most of the men
were either crying or had tears in their eyes. It was a great moment for Ty to
see. But it was short lived.
‘All’ wasn’t in commotion. Ty turned to look
where the imaginary Iron Mask would have landed on the ground. To his despair,
there was a pair of feet standing right in front of it. Ty looked at the
ground, and then looked up the figure of the person standing there.
Ty
looked straight into the face of the new owner of the Iron Mask. The owner
looked back at him, cold, seemingly detached, unmoved by everything and everyone
around him.
“Dad,” Ty mouthed in horror.
