The Gray House

I wait for him to crawl away and then peek out myself. Legs, shards, water, clumps of foam. A couple of people are trying to tidy up, while the rest just prance around ogling the scenery. Hounds, Rats, even the girls. Must have forgotten that we’re in a state of war. The surviving part of the windowpane seems to be frosted over. The slightest touch, and it’ll come tumbling down too. There’s a gaping hole in the middle. Resembling a starfish. I stare at it, and then feel myself being lifted up by Black. He picks me up and carries me away, briskly striding through the throng of people and shoving those who don’t step aside. It’s good to be purposefully carried. You can just relax and go with the flow. At the Coffeepot entrance, a gaggle of gawkers serenades us with whistles and murmurs.

“Don’t cry,” Black keeps repeating to me.

“I’m trying.”

There’s no viscous luminescence anymore. The world is back to its regular shape, the sounds carry clearly and loudly, but something did change. Here and there the windows creak and slap, and the wind strolls down the hallways. The door to our room snaps to behind us with such force that even Black startles and my teeth clank.

The room is taken over by the pre-storm dusk and, when seen from the lofty height of Hound Daddy, looks surprisingly small. Sphinx, Blind, and Mermaid sit in a neat row, backs against the wardrobe. The dusty whirlwind rattles the windows and throws flying debris at them.

Black lowers me to the floor. I crawl over to our guys, trying and discarding on the way successive faces that may be relevant to the situation. The problem is, I don’t quite understand the situation. Was today the day we’ve been orphaned forevermore? Have we just lost the last of the dragons that don’t exist in nature? Does the glum expression on the faces of those assembled here imply silent mourning, and if so, should I kick the boisterousness up a bit to shake them out of that?

Blind shuffles aside, freeing some space between Sphinx and himself. Big enough to fit a rabbit. Miraculously, I manage to squeeze in, and immediately decide to abandon the boisterousness. I’ve already been plenty boisterous today. Let it be calm here now, and let the wind howl and tear up the Outsides. I’m tired, and my head hurts.

Black crouches down by the door. There’s something long, wrapped in a towel, on Sphinx’s knees, and it stinks of burned plastic. I peek under the towel, but even before I do I already know that it must be the rakes in there. And it is indeed them. Unattached, with fingers melted off, flashing the nakedness of the steel frame. Ugly. Very ugly.

“Leave it,” Sphinx says. “It’s trash now, nothing more.”

I lower the corner of the towel back. It’s an unpleasant feeling—touching something that’s died so recently.

“Did it hurt?” I ask, feeling stupid.

“Like you wouldn’t believe.”

“What about Alexander?”

“Alexander is upstairs. Sleeping.”

The words come fast and clipped, and I understand that I shouldn’t be asking for clarification. Upstairs means on Humpback’s bunk, and why exactly he’s there and in what condition—insignificant details I’m not going to delve into. The important thing is he hasn’t flown away completely. I close my eyes and go limp, squeezed between the rib cages of Sphinx and Blind, trying to convince myself that sleeping in this fashion, like a piece of cheese between two graters, is exactly what I’ve always wanted. I don’t exactly fall asleep, of course, but crash into some kind of slumber. I have enough thoughts that need thinking, and the thinking of them is best done in this semiconscious state. So I think them.

With gold-braided rope, I have encircled the space that’s taken up by the collection. It looks like a small stage. The photographs of the Crossroads in the ancient times serve as a backdrop. In the gap between them I have this large white-and-blue plate, shining like the Moon. I’m not sure it was the right place to put it, but the arrangement holds a special attraction for me, combining as it were the Moon and the House, two of my favoritest natural phenomena.