Jesse Ball - Samedi the Deafness

— How does he know about that room? Who told him?

— Should we tell Mrs. Nagerdorn?

He heard Grieve's voice then.

— We should just forget it. Act like it never happened.

— Oh, you're just saying that, said another voice, because you like him, don't you, Grieve? You like him so much. You like him, you like him, you like him. I've seen you mooning after him.

— And I have too, said another. Why, I wouldn't be surprised if you think about him before you go to bed, if you know what I mean.

— That's nonsense, said Grieve. I don't know him at all, and I don't know what you mean. I just think we should forget it.

Then a voice came from behind James in the hall.

— Interesting business, isn't it, listening at doors? One can find out many things. Many helpful things. Of course, they usually lead to tragedy. Small tragedy, small, yes, but tragedy nonetheless. Household tragedies, you understand.

James spun around.

The man standing there was none other than Samedi, or perhaps-Samedi, Stark, Grieve's father. Beside him stood Sermon. Beside Sermon, Leonora and McHale.

— That's the maids' room, said McHale quietly.

The Best Hiding Place of All

The best hiding place of all, said James's friend Ansilon, from his perch atop James's shoulder, is inside something hollow when no one knows it's hollow.

Ansilon was James's one friend. He was an invisible owl who could tell the future and also speak English, although he preferred to speak in the owl language, which James understood perfectly.

— But if no one knows that it's hollow, said James, then how would I manage to know that it's hollow? Should I just go around with a little hammer, tapping things?

For that reason, said Ansilon, I have purchased for you with what little money I have this lovely little gold hammer. He brought out from a pocket somewhere in his feathers a tiny gold hammer, and handed it with his beak to James.

James took the hammer in his hand. It had a nice weight to it.

Tap everything, said Ansilon, with that hammer, and you'll soon find hollow places in which you can hide, or in which you can hide your precious belongings. But be sure no one else is around when you use the hammer, or you will be found out. It has, after all, he said, happened before that someone who didn't want to was found out, and it happens especially much to boys your age.

James hated it when Ansilon talked about how young he was. Ansilon was 306 years old and knew everything there was to know. But while he was very helpful he was also a bit arrogant, and presumed too much.

— I'm not that young, said James. I'll be seven in three days.

And that's why, said Ansilon, I've gotten you this hammer. Don't you like it?

— Very much, said James. You're my best friend.

It's good, said Ansilon, for a person to only ever have one friend in his life. It makes things simpler. Shall we be each other's one friend?

— Yes, said James. I will be your one friend, and you will be mine.

Ansilon moved about on James's shoulder in a happy way, and his eyes opened and closed.

We shall spend a great deal of time awake at night, then, said Ansilon, for that is my favorite time.

— I don't mind, said James. For we shall have such adventures!

Everyone was looking at him. They were waiting for him to speak. Their patience seemed inexhaustible.

Behind James then, the maids' door opened. The maid who had opened it saw the scene, squealed, and shut the door. Within the room then, more squeals, and the sound of feet.

— I was just, said James, looking for the fourth window in my room. It's strange, you know, to have a window go missing. I believe it can be reached by ladder, perhaps from the space behind. .

— Do you see what I mean? McHale said to Sermon.

— Precisely, said Sermon.

Leonora Loft shook her head.

— I think, said Sermon, we should have our little talk sooner rather than later, James. There's been a problem. The police have come again. They're outside.

— Outside? said James. But I didn't do anything. Why are they looking for me?

— Didn't do anything? said McHale. You told me yourself you pushed Mayne out the window.

— I never said that.

James looked helplessly back and forth. What was going on? Why were they all down here in the first place?

— Well, I suppose you didn't, but it was obvious. After all, why would you be in his room, in his home?

— We should go downstairs, said McHale. The police are waiting.

James looked from face to face. Leonora looked intrigued by the whole thing. McHale was impassive. Sermon was grave. And Grieve's father, a large man with a mole, whose presence seemed to fill the hallway, Grieve's father was smiling.

— I know you're the ones, said James. I know you killed McHale, and I know that you, he said, pointing his finger at Grieve's father. I know you're SAMEDI.

Grieve's father laughed.

— My daughter, he said, thinks very highly of you. I understand that you've been put into a series of trying positions, and that certainly in such positions no one would look their best. Nonetheless, I had hoped to see you do a bit better. Of course the police are not outside; of course we will not give you up to them. Have you not already been assured of that much? Here we find you listening at doors, and not even at the doors of influence and power, instead at such a trivial door as this? The speech of maids is like the speech of jaybirds, giving nothing, taking nothing away. A chattering, a noiseless, noiseful clatter. And you listen to it through a glass?

He sighed, and ran one of his hands across the other.

— We shall, of course, be speaking more before long. You understand very little of what goes on here, and your head is full of poor Tommy's foolish words. If only he had been kept here, that unfortunate accident would never have occurred.

The others all looked at one another in sadness.

— However, he continued, you are here, and here to stay, I assume. My daughter speaks of a trip abroad with you. Well, it can occur; I will not say it cannot occur. But as for your making yourself useful, your finding some useful employment, well, I should think a man like you would want to do that, would want to do more than simply hang around a place all day doing nothing, living off the work of others. You wouldn't want that, would you?

James admitted that he did not like to be a burden on others. In fact, he did not intend to be.

— Then I suggest you come and speak to me, tomorrow, about ten in the morning. The light in my rooms is quite fine then and encourages clear thinking and lucidity of action. We shall come up with something for you then. After all, you are quite talented, I hear. Is it true, as Grieve says, that you memorized my entire book?

There was a general gasping in the hall. McHale and Sermon looked at each other incredulously.

— It can't be, said Sermon.

— He is one of the best, said Grieve's father. We have his dossier from Beckman's.

Let them think that over, thought James proudly, very pleased with the looks on McHale's and Sermon's faces. He slipped the glass tumbler into his pocket.

— Yes, I have it, he said.

— Tomorrow, then.

The group moved off down the hall and was lost to sight. James heard a knocking.

— Are they gone?

A Gift

— Yes, said James. They're gone.

The door to no. 53 opened, and the sallow man came out again. James took a step back. The man did not smell very good.

He was holding a drawing in his hand.

— I did this for you, he said, just now.

James looked at the drawing.