The Gray House

The first three days in the Sepulcher flew by quickly. First I was sharing the room with Lizard and Monkey, then with Monkey and Genepool. In the end it was Viking from the Second and his dislocated finger. And then I was the only one left, and that made me realize that having roommates is better than not having them. Even when they’re noisy, play cards around the clock, spit all over the place, and constantly clog the only toilet around.

Once I was left alone I had no defense against sinister thoughts. When, after a routine physical, you’re suddenly told that you’ll be staying in the Sepulcher, “no arguments,” not even allowed to drive over and get your things, it’s not that scary by itself. But when, in a week’s time, still no one is in the mood to explain anything, you start suspecting that your days are really numbered, that you won’t be getting out of here alive. So I was preparing for the worst.

Then I got a visit from R One. That wasn’t a surprise; after all, he was now my counselor. If anything, he could have considered coming earlier.

He sat in the only chair in the room, the “doctor” chair, and crossed his legs. He was holding some kind of package in his hands.

“Well, how’re you feeling?” he said.

“All right,” I said. “Can’t complain.”

“That’s good,” he said. “Anyone visit you here?”

“Black,” I said. “Also Noble, twice.”

R One perked up.

“Noble? That’s interesting.”

“Not really,” I said.

Noble would present me with a packet of gummy bears, say “How’s it going,” and go over to my neighbors’ beds to play blackjack with them. I always thought that if you came to visit someone who’s sick it would be nice to at least have a conversation with them, but apparently Noble had a different opinion. I think the fact of my existence went right out of his head as soon as he handed me the candy.

Now Black, he behaved like a human being was supposed to. Gave me the rundown on the latest news, told me to hold on, and even tried to pump the Spiders for any information regarding my condition. Not that he managed to find out anything, but I was grateful even for the thought. And one time he brought me some tomato salad that he’d made himself, reducing me almost to tears.

I certainly wasn’t about to explain any of that to Ralph. All I said was that Noble’s visits were not really interesting. Which was the truth.

“You would probably like to know why you’re stuck here?” R One asked.

“Of course. Everyone keeps telling me about blood work, but they never did any tests other than the one after which they made me stay. And why couldn’t they go back and recheck that first one? That’s what I don’t understand.”

I suddenly grew very agitated. Because it dawned on me that R One, being my counselor, might have gotten an insight, been told something that no one was telling me.

“There’s nothing wrong with you,” he said. “You’re perfectly healthy.”

I gawked at him.

“You’re here on my orders,” he said. “I asked them to hold you in for a while.”

I still didn’t ask anything. I guess I was too surprised. By the way he was saying that. He was very calm when admitting to these things. To making me think who knows what. I’d been preparing to die because of what he did.

“I had a call from your father,” R One said. “He said that you’d asked not to be taken away. That you wanted to stay until graduation. When did you talk to him?”

“The night after the meeting. I used the phone in the staff room. Someone showed me how to get inside.”

He just nodded, as if he knew that already without my explanations.

“So, you’re curious about the graduation?” he said. “You’d like to see it for yourself?”

I didn’t answer. I try not to answer stupid questions. If I didn’t want to stay, I wouldn’t be calling home asking not to be taken away.

Ralph turned the left side of his face to me for the first time in this visit, and I saw that he had a huge shiner there. It cheered me up that somebody had given him a good one. A sincere one. Broke the skin on the cheekbone, even.

“I am also curious about the graduation,” he said. “I’d like to have some more information about what’s going on in the House. At this particular moment.”

It finally dawned on me what he was driving at. I didn’t let on, though. I made a quizzical face, as if I didn’t understand.

He was looking straight at me, and he had these eyes like it wasn’t him who had said what he’d just said. Honest and earnest. You’d never guess that a man with eyes like that would be trying to make you into a snitch.

“Stop the charade,” he said. “You got my meaning.”

“Was it the previous snitching candidate who scratched you?”

He felt the shiner with his finger and said that he didn’t want to quarrel with me. That was how he put it.

“I also don’t want to quarrel with anyone. So why don’t you tell me up front what’s going to happen to me if I refuse? So that I know.”