“Never heard of it,” I said.
The voice laughed lightly. “Anyway, we put on nightly shows. I work as a squire in the show, which means I run around in fake chainmail tights and look like an idiot.”
Now I laughed, perhaps for the first time in a long, long time.
“I know,” he said. “Ridiculous. But what the hell. A job is a job, plus I get to work around horses and I love horses. Anyway, we do this bit where we bring out a prisoner wearing an iron mask.”
“An iron mask?”
“Yeah, like in the movie with Leonardo DiCaprio.”
“Or the Alexandre Dumas novel.”
“I don’t know about the novel,” the voice said. “Anyway, I’ve worked there for two months and realized that I didn’t know who played the part of the guy wearing the iron mask. I mean, they just wheel him out, then wheel him back, and we never see who he is.”
He paused, perhaps for effect. I waited, not so much for effect. I looked at the picture of my son on the desk. My deceased son.
“I want to know who the guy in the iron mask is,” he finally said.
“Have you asked around?”
“Yes, and no one seems to know.”
“You’re right,” I said.
“Right about what?”
“I don’t believe you.”
I nearly hung up. For some reason, I paused just long enough for him to stop me. To convince me to stop. And he did.
“Wait. Hear me out.” I heard the urgency in his voice.
“Okay,” I said.
“Something’s going on,” he continued. “Something weird. No one’s talking to me. And no one seems to know who the guy in the iron mask is.”
“Probably an extra on the show,” I said, always the voice of reason.
“That’s what I figured, until I saw them wheel him away the other night.”
“Which night?”
“Two nights ago.”
“Go on.”
“I was backstage in the prop room grabbing another sword for my knight—the things always break. Anyway, the skit with the prisoner in the iron mask had just ended and I watched them roll him backstage. I’ll admit, my interest was piqued, if only to settle my own curiosity.”
I waited. Admittedly, my interest was piqued, too. And who said the word “piqued” these days, anyway? I thought about that as I waited.
Finally, the voice said, “The first thing I noticed was that they never took him out of the iron mask.”
“What do you mean?”
“They just kept on rolling him down a side hall, and then into one of the service tunnels, which leads to, from what I understand, a basement of sorts under the arena.”
“They never took the guy out of the mask?”