Мариам Петросян - The Gray House

Siamese Max wrote letters too. To himself. He did them in pencil on sheets of toilet paper and sorted them in envelopes with strange legends: When You Want to Cry , When You Want a Bicycle , When You Think You're Ugly , When You Envy the Leg . The leg in question was most likely his brother's second one. The one Rex had, and Max could have had. Stinker showed his letters to everybody. Max never showed his to anyone. He only ever read them to himself, and rarely, at that, only when his mood corresponded to the legend on one of the envelopes.

Grasshopper came out into the yard every night. When Witch showed up, he went in search of Blind, a letter deep in his pocket. Sometimes it was Blind who passed a letter to him—then Grasshopper went down to the ground floor and waited by the laundry-room doors. He got so used to it that he kept forgetting about the danger, only remembering when he saw Witch burn the letters in front of him.

Blind took to disappearing at night. Humpback tried every possible way of constructing the tent, but it still crashed. Then came the rains. Elk said of them that they smelled of spring. The yard became a muddy mess. Humpback's dogs stopped coming. They were thinking about having offspring and were therefore too busy. Siamese Max got knighted.

Just your regular day. The wind rattling the glass, everyone yawning silently. The wind is relentless, so Alexander opens the windows and lets it in. Then it tortures the frames until they moan and chases the curtains so that they become frighteningly like things that are alive and struggling to break free and fly away somewhere. Pity they can’t. Would have been a sight to watch.

Third period is highlighted by a visit from Ralph. He comes with his own chair. Puts it in the corner and sits on it like he's stuck until the bell rings.

He hasn't changed at all. A stint in the Outsides can sometimes really do a number on a person, but there's no trace of it on him. It's like he went away only yesterday, and today he's already back. The familiar jacket over the familiar sweater. The gloved left hand, the one missing the two fingers, and those eyes. The eyes of an inquisitor. Makes you shiver. When the lesson ends he stands up and stares at us. He's leaped over. It's so obvious. I marvel at his lack of discretion. Really, someone should tutor him, though I’m having a hard time imagining who that might be. Yes, he's not exactly young, but he's not stupid either, and quite capable of understanding things. In the Outsides it's considered impolite to visit someone else's house naked. In the House it's impolite to enter by leaping over. This is like climbing into a window and sitting at the dinner table without so much as greeting the hosts. Or going through someone's bedroom and pulling out the dresser drawers. Or... I don't know what else to compare it to. And Ralph, when it comes down to it, is not really to blame. Just a wild creature. Untamed.

Now he's asking Smoker how he's doing in the new environment. Smoker says he's fine. No complaints. Has everything, requires nothing. He also contrives to look as if this is not so. Ralph nods and departs. Noble isn't mentioned at all.

After lunch I'm the last one to get back, because I lingered, shooting the breeze with Shuffle. Upon arrival I'm met by the packmates milling at the door. Not entering it, though.

“Something the matter?” I ask.

“The door,” Lary says, poking it with his fingernail, the one that's longer and even uglier than the rest.

“So?” I say. “It certainly is, everyone knows that.”

“Locked,” he says.

There goes the nail again, pointing out to me that it's the door that's locked, in case I, heaven forbid, would think that it's actually the wall.

“Who the heck would need to lock himself in?” I ask.

“That's what we've been thinking. Who the heck,” Lary says and looks back at Sphinx.

Sphinx is all pensive. Spring cleaning of the soul, no doubt.

“I would expect some knocking going on right about now. Maybe even a bit of shouting. And then whoever answers would be the one who's locked in there,” I suggest.

“True. But what for?” Humpback says. “Why would they want to do it?”

We exchange glances. Me, Sphinx, Humpback, Lary, Smoker, and Alexander, with Tubbs in tow.

“It's probably Blind?” Humpback offers tentatively. “He wasn't there at lunch.”

“He must be thinking about something important,” Lary says, brightening. “And here we are knocking. Might be very awkward.”

Sphinx and I exchange glances again. Failing to remember any previous occasion when Blind would lock himself in the dorm to think. I drive around the circle once and return.

“Or maybe Black. Killing himself. What? Quite possible, after what happened yesterday. You know... Us saying nasty things about his precious dog... and stuff. He's a proud man. Couldn't live it down,” I say.

“Shame on you,” Humpback says. “We're on edge as it is.”

I do two more rounds. Alexander squats down by the wall, apparently tired of standing. Humpback is scratching at the number 4 on the door. Rubs off the lower half.

“Damn!” Sphinx blurts out. “Are we going to stand here all day like statues in front of our own door? I feel stupid.”

“They're all watching,” Lary says bashfully. “Maybe we can move?”

I look around and see that indeed they are. Watching and even crowding in places. A nasty predicament. I get a rolling start, planning to smash into the door and jostle whoever is on the other side, but Vulture chooses this particular moment to approach, so I have to make it look like I've decided to practice driving.

“Issues?” Vulture inquires. “Anything wrong with the door?”

He is leaning foppishly on a cane and swinging a key chain on his pinkie. Naturally, there is more than just keys on it.

Sphinx hesitates.

“I'm not sure we should.”

“Should, definitely should,” I say. “Who knows what could happen. We need to investigate. Still, my money is on Black hanging there. He hasn't quite been himself these last few days. Brooding.”

“Heavens!”

That was Vulture.

Humpback shakes a fist at me.

The picks jangle, the long wire snakes inside the lock, the hallway audience moves closer, tongues hanging to the side from curiosity, and in the distance I spy Red, cruising in our direction at top speed with a vicious grimace on his face, but we burst inside—with me being pushed in front of everyone else—and manage to slam the door before the noses of those trying to stick them in our business. Vulture gets a pass, since he helped and is therefore entitled to the information.

I quickly cross the anteroom.

“What's that?” Sphinx asks behind my back.

Someone seems to have had the gall to squeeze in. Shameless is what it is. The intruder is Red. He spits a couple of words into Sphinx's ear. Sphinx nods and hisses at us.

“Hold on!”

I have no intention of holding on to anything, Red or no Red. I push the door and enter the dorm. It's empty like a family vault. No one's hanging, no one's on the floor with his veins split open, no corpses at all, in fact.

“Look at that,” I say. “No one's here.”

Lary breathes spasmodically in my ear.

Humpback asks, “So who's locked it, then?”

And here we see legs dangling off Lary's bunk. Two of them. Lary gasps and grabs hold of my hair. Legs dangle. Long ones, clad in black stockings. One has a white pump on, the other just the stocking, with a hole in it so that the pink toes are sticking out. There's something very familiar about those legs. They descend, lower and lower, and then Long Gaby appears at the other end of them, crashes to the floor, and winks at us quite insolently. The shadow around her eyes is all smudged and runny.