The Gray House

No one talks about graduation, except to mention some kind of bus. “When we are on the bus,” “When the bus comes for us,” or something about life on four wheels. I could never get out of them any details about this bus, or whether it even exists. Could be just a figure of speech, to avoid saying the word “Outsides.”

Since the day I failed to give Tabaqui’s collection its due he only refers to me as “child” or “that youth.”

Jerichonies are these tiny creatures that are invisible under artificial light and at the same time afraid of the sun, so spotting them is an almost impossible task. There are more and more of them in the House every day, and right before graduation they will assemble in multitudes and start shouting with a great shout. And that’s going to be the end of us, since the walls of the House, naturally, will fall down flat.

—Tabaqui, “Common Wisdom for the Inquisitive Youth.”

Today in the Coffeepot I asked Red, draped over the counter, what his tattoo meant. He didn’t have a shirt on, and I saw this man with a dog’s head on his chest. I was only looking for what Tabaqui terms “a friendly chat,” but got way more than I bargained for. He said it was Anubis, the god of the dead. “In short, the protector of all stiffs.”

Then Red lowered his head into the crook of his elbow and went all gloomy for some reason. I suspect that he wasn’t quite sober. On the other hand, he only had a cup of coffee in front of him. Everyone turned to look at us. That was unpleasant, and I tried to wheel away. But Red suddenly perked up, peeled himself off the counter, and grabbed my sleeve.

“And I am his angel in the Upper World! His freaking emissary, get it?” he screamed, tugging at my clothes. Gawkers started gathering around, and then he let go of me and ran out. I think he’s depressed from the overdose of green. From not taking his green glasses off.

Found on the walls:

“Brothers and Sisters, stop fooling around. IT is near.” Know-it-all.

“Cleansing campaign tonight. Presence mandatory, except for those on the third loop and above.” The Inside Man.

Alexander stashed a pile of cups and pans under his bed. But not before spending a whole hour scrubbing and washing them.

“Might be useful,” he said when I peeked under the bed for the third time.

“Useful where?” I said.

“Anywhere, I think,” Alexander said and pulled the cover lower to hide his treasure.