Мариам Петросян - The Gray House

Some tasks he couldn't really keep secret. Poxy Sissies caught on to lookies almost immediately. And they hated it. It was very hard to hold a coherent conversation while playing lookies. Grasshopper still couldn’t, no matter how hard he tried.

“Yeah, right,” Humpback snorted. “More indeed. More of the black cats that don't exist.”

“What's the shadow that Beauty sees running around?” Grasshopper asked in a clumsy attempt to change the subject.

“His own. But it's kind of alive. don't go asking him, though. He's scared of it.”

They came to the porch and tapped their shoes on the steps to shake off the dirt. A senior girl was sitting on the railing, smoking and looking out into the yard. Witch. She didn't have a coat on, only a suede vest over a turtleneck. Grasshopper said hello. Humpback did as well, but secretly crossed his fingers inside his coat pocket, just in case.

Witch nodded. Water was dripping off the roof and ricocheting right onto her pants, but she paid it no attention. Or maybe she just liked sitting in this particular place.

“Hey, Grasshopper,” she called. “Come here.”

Humpback, who was holding the door for him, turned around. Grasshopper dutifully approached Witch. She threw away the cigarette.

“You can go,” she told Humpback. “He won't be long.”

Humpback shuffled his feet by the door, looking at Grasshopper sullenly from under his hood. Grasshopper nodded to him.

“Go. Look, you're soaked.”

Humpback sighed. He pulled the door wider and entered it backward, not taking his eyes off Grasshopper, as if pleading with him to reconsider before it was too late. Grasshopper waited until he was gone and then turned to Witch. He wasn't scared. Witch was the most beautiful girl in the whole House, and his godmother to boot. Not scared, but definitely uneasy under her fixed stare.

“Have a seat. We’ll talk,” Witch said.

He sat next to her on the wet railing, and her fingers pulled the hood off his head. Witch's hair reached to her waist, like a shiny black tent. She never did anything to it, allowing it to flow freely. She had a very white face, and her eyes were so dark that the pupils flowed imperceptibly into the irises. Genuine witch eyes.

“Remember me?” she said.

“You were the one who named me Grasshopper. You're my godmother.”

“Yes. It's time we got acquainted more closely.”

She sure chose a strange place and time for it. Grasshopper was getting wet sitting on the railing. And it was slippery. And Witch wasn't dressed properly. As if she'd rushed to get closer acquainted with him so fast she didn't have time to grab a coat. He dangled one leg and touched the floor with his toe to steady himself.

“Are you brave?” Witch asked.

“No.”

“That's too bad,” she said. “I wish you were.”

“Me too,” Grasshopper admitted. “Why do you ask?”

Witch's black eyes flashed mysteriously.

“Getting to know you. You like dogs?”

“I like Humpback. And he likes dogs. Likes to feed them. And I like to see him do it. But I do like them too.”

Witch pulled one leg up, put the foot on the railing, and lowered her chin to her knee.

“You could help me,” she said. “If you'd like, of course. If you don't want to, I'm not going to be angry.”

A drop found its way down Grasshopper's neck. He shivered.

“Doing what?” he said.

This must have had something to do with dogs and being brave. Or maybe he just imagined that because she'd mentioned those things.

“I need someone to carry my letters to a certain person.” Her hair fell down over her face. “Do you understand?”

He did. Witch was of Moor's people. Letters were for one of Skull's people. That much was obvious. It was also bad. And dangerous. For her, and whomever the letters were for, and whoever would deliver them. It would have to be a secret from everybody. So that's why she asked about him being brave. And that's why the yard, the twilight, no coat, no hat. She must have spotted him out the window and rushed straight down.

“I understand,” Grasshopper said. “He's one of Skull's people.”

“Yes,” Witch said. “You got it.”

She reached into the pocket and took out cigarettes and a lighter. Her hands were turning red from the cold. He noticed loose threads hanging off the patchwork suede vest.

“Scared?” she asked.

Grasshopper didn't answer.

“Yeah, I am too,” she said. Then lit the cigarette. Dropped the lighter, but didn't pick it up. Hid her hands under her armpits and hunched over. Silvery water beads glistened in her hair. Witch swayed back and forth on the railing and watched him.

“You don't have to,” she said. “I am not going to put a curse on you. If you believe that nonsense. Simple yes or no, that's all.”

“Yes,” Grasshopper said.

Witch nodded, as if she never expected a different answer.

“Thank you.”

Grasshopper was swinging his leg, soaked all the way to his underwear. And he didn't care about being wet anymore. The yard was sinking into the deepening blue. He heard dogs howling somewhere. They might have been the same dogs Humpback and he had just fed.

“Who is he?” Grasshopper asked.

Witch slid off the railing and picked up the lighter.

“Who do you think?”

Usually Grasshopper liked guessing games, but right now he was too cold, and Skull's people were too many to recall each of them one by one and try to imagine if she could have fallen in love with them or not.

“I don't know,” he said resignedly. “You’ll have to tell me.”

Witch leaned closer and whispered in his ear. Grasshopper's eyes opened wide. She laughed softly.

“Why didn't you just say so? Like first thing! Why?”

“Shhh. Quiet,” she said, still laughing. “There's no need to shout. It's not really important.”

“How could you not say it?”

“To make sure you didn't agree only because of that. I wanted you to think it over properly.”

“It will make me so happy,” Grasshopper whispered.

Witch laughed again, and again hid her face behind hair.

“Of course,” she said. “Of course it will... Still. don't you want to think about it?”

“Where's the letter?”

She warmed her hands with her breath and took an envelope out of a vest pocket.

“Take this to your friend,” she said. “He’ll give you another one, bring it back to me. Tonight. First floor, by the laundry room. After dinner. I’ll be waiting. Or maybe you’ll have to wait a little. But be careful.”

“What friend?” Grasshopper said, surprised, but then understood. “Blind?”

“Yes. Try to do it so that no one sees you.”

“And you didn't say anything about Blind either. Why?”

Witch put her hand in his pocket, stuffed the letter all the way down, and then buttoned the flap.

“You were testing my courage,” Grasshopper said. “Testing me . But I would have agreed anyway.”

Witch brushed his face with her fingers.

“I know.”

“Because you're Witch?”

“I'm no witch. I just know. I know many things.”

She pulled the hood over his head.

“Let's go. It's getting cold.”

Grasshopper was not feeling cold at all. Quite the opposite.

“Tell me,” he whispered when they were climbing the stairs. “Tell me, what is it you know about me?”

“I know how you're going to be when you're older,” she said.

Black tent of hair and long legs. Sharp clatter of steel-shod boots on the steps.

“Really?”

“Sure. It's obvious.”

She stopped.

“Run along, my godson. It would be best if we weren't seen together.”

“Yeah!”

He took the rest of the stairs at a run and only turned back when he reached the landing.