Мариам Петросян - The Gray House

“Ahoy, ahoy... Black crows over the gray smoke... Ahoy, ahoy... Nothing left, it's all gone ...”

Sphinx suddenly buried his face in the blanket, as if pecking it, then straightened up and jerked his head, and I saw a pack of cigarettes flying in my direction.

“There,” he said. “It's good for the nerves.”

“Thanks,” I said, examining the pack. There were no teeth marks on it, and no traces of saliva either. I coaxed out a cigarette, caught the lighter thrown by Tabaqui, and thanked him too.

“He's so polite!” he exclaimed. “How nice!”

He started fidgeting, shaking out the folds of his dressing gown. The turban kept falling over his eyes. Finally he fished out a glass ashtray from somewhere. It was already full.

“Found it! Here you are.”

He tossed it at me, even though I was close enough to just take it from his hands. It lost most of its contents in flight, and the blanket acquired a dappled trail of cigarette butts. I brushed the ash off myself and lit up.

“Where's the gratitude?” Jackal demanded.

“Thank you,” I said. “For missing.”

“don't mention it,” he said, visibly delighted. “Always glad to help.”

The ahoy s resumed at double the volume.

Sphinx said that he agreed to a draw.

“Finally,” a soft voice from the other side of the headboard replied. Snaking through the layers of bags hanging on the bed, a very white, very long-fingered hand worked its way up, turned the board over, and began assembling the little pieces into it.

“Ahoy, ahoy... The blackened cooking pans! Ahoy, ahoy, the frame of a stuffed bear... It used to be a coat hanger, it did ...”

“Someone please shut that pervert up!” Noble begged from the window.

I couldn't pry my eyes off Blind's hand. In addition to the fingers being impossibly long and bending in ways that fingers weren't supposed to bend unless they were broken, the hand also seemed unpleasantly autonomous. It traveled to and fro, slipping on the covers from time to time, extending its feelers, almost sniffing the air. I extracted the white rook that had been digging into my backside and carefully placed it in front of the hand. The hand stopped, waved the middle antenna, cogitated, and then grabbed it with lightning speed. I startled and quickly set to producing the rest of the pieces that had dropped under my body because I had a horrible suspicion that, if I didn't, the hungry hand would just burrow in and find them. Sphinx observed me with a faint smirk on his lips.

“Ahoy, ahoy... The blackened pendant! A crow would take it, bring it to its young... A lovely toy to bring to its young ...”

Noble pulled aside the curtain and flowed down. He did it a bit more noisily than usual, but still, it was all I could do not to weep from envy, looking at him.

“Stop gawking,” came Tabaqui's advice. “You’ll never be able to do that.”

“I know. I'm just curious.”

Jackal imitated a coughing fit and looked at me significantly, as if to warn me about something.

“It would be better if you weren't just curious.”

I didn't have time to ask why before Noble climbed up to the communal bed. I admired the precise movements. Where Tabaqui crawled, Noble hurled himself forward. He tossed his legs in front of him and then hopped after them on his hands. It wasn't a particularly pleasant sight in itself, and would border on creepy if slowed down, but not from the point of view of a paraplegic. Besides, Noble was so fast that such deconstruction was often impossible. I was enthralled and I envied him bitterly, fully aware that this was way beyond me. I was no acrobat. Tabaqui moved just as fast, but he was half Noble's weight and he had some control over his legs, so looking at him crawl did not make me depressed.

Once on the bed, Noble stared at Jackal with a sort of vicious anticipation. It was clear that with one more ahoy things would get really hairy for Tabaqui.

“Why are you so jumpy today, Noble?” Tabaqui said apologetically. “That was the end of the song.”

“Thank god,” Noble snorted. “Or it would have been the end of you.”

Tabaqui feigned shock.

“Horrible, horrible words! And because of such a trifle! Come to your senses, dearest!”

His turban settled down over one eye again. He hoisted it back up and puffed on the extinguished pipe.

The coffeepot on the floor sounded like it was about to boil. I pushed apart the backpacks and bags that were hanging on the bars of the headboard.

On the floor on the other side of the bars, Blind was sitting. His black hair fell over his white face like a curtain. The silvery eyes glowed coldly from behind it. He was smoking and looked totally limp. The hand searching for the chess pieces was almost done. It did not appear to have anything to do with him. While I was watching, it decided to return, and Blind appreciatively patted it with the other hand. I didn't dream this, it really happened.

The door slammed.

I heard a clatter of heels.

My mood crashed. This noise could only mean one thing—Lary had returned. I dropped the bags back in their place, obscuring Blind again, and tried to make myself inconspicuous. I didn't hide, of course, just froze. I wasn't exactly scared, but Lary's presence drained all energy out of me. He invariably blew up whenever I showed any signs of life.

Thin, cross eyed, and disheveled, he came up to the bed and stared at Jackal. He looked so miserable that Tabaqui choked on his pipe.

“Heavens, Lary!” he squeaked anxiously. “What happened?”

Lary's gaze was acerbic.

“Same old, same old. Which is quite enough for me.”

“Oh.” Tabaqui calmed down instantly and adjusted his turban. “And here's me thinking there was something we didn't know yet.”

Lary grunted. It was a very expressive grunt. Blatant, even. Noble, who detested all sudden noises, asked if Lary would mind keeping it down.

“Down?” Lary demanded as if he couldn't quite believe what he was hearing. “You mean even more down? If we were any more down we'd be six feet under! We're not making waves! We are the masters of quiet! We're so quiet we're going to grow moss any day now.”

“You're overreacting.” Noble frowned. “And by down I meant you personally. At this particular moment.”

“Oooh, I see!” Lary jumped at the opportunity. “The particular moment, that's all we care for. Only the moment, never before or after. Nothing can ever be worth anything except for the precious moment. We can't even wear watches, or someone might try to think more than two minutes ahead!”

“He wants a fight,” Tabaqui explained to Noble. “A bloody massacre. He needs to fall down by the bed insensate and not have to worry about anything.”

Noble paused in the careful filing of his nails and said, “This can be easily arranged.”

Lary stared at the nail file and did not like the sight of it for some reason. He seemed to have second thoughts about the fight.

“I'm not overreacting,” he said. “Walk the corridors like I do, you'd react the same. You have any idea what kind of atmosphere is out there right now?”

“Lary, enough,” Sphinx said. “We've had it up to here with your atmosphere. Stuff it.”

Lary was shaking all over, and the bed was shaking with him. I could not understand why they wouldn't just let him speak. I would've thought that could calm him down a little. It's not a pleasant experience to be sitting next to someone who's shaking from some unexplained emotion. Especially if that someone happens to be a Bandar-Log.

Alexander appeared next to the bed, an obsequious shadow in a gray sweater. He distributed cups of coffee from the tray and disappeared again. Either crouched down on the other side of the headboard or flattened against the wall. The cup was boiling hot and I turned my attention from Lary to the coffee, so it was a complete shock when he turned his to me.