The Gray House

Tabaqui assured him that he would never abandon a friend in need. And he immediately didn’t. He sang to Noble. He played the harmonica for him. He bucked him up with disgusting concoctions complete with floating chilies, of which he himself liberally partook as well, so that Noble wouldn’t feel singled out. There wasn’t a living soul capable of getting any sleep under Tabaqui’s tender ministrations.

When Black returned, he was running a fever. Tabaqui sounded the alarm. He said that this was a clear sign of infection taking hold in Black’s bloodstream, and that Black was soon to tread in the valley of death.

Black was serenaded and plied with drink as well.

At three in the morning they started singing in harmony.

Accompanied by their horrible singing, I dozed off. When I woke up I saw Humpback, naked, standing on the bed armed with a broom. He was holding it as if it were a bayonet aimed at an invisible foe. He looked like a complete nutcase. If I were to find myself alone in the room with him, this would have scared me witless. But Jackal was right next to me, while Alexander and Lary, swearing softly, milled in the space between the beds, moving the nightstand for some reason. Their appearance wasn’t a big improvement on Humpback’s. They were both in their briefs and in rubber boots. Lary’s boots alone were a sight, what with the pointed toes curled upward.

The wide-open windows let in the blackness of the night, and the door into the hallway was also thrown open and even prevented from closing by a stack of books. A breeze was wafting through the room.

“There it is!” Lary whispered. “We got it now. Humpback, ready with the broom!”

Humpback stopped fidgeting, stood at attention, and said, also in a very firm whisper, that this might cause it harm.

“Sissy,” Lary groaned.

They jerked the nightstand away. Lary dove into the opening between it and the wall with surprising agility, and seemed to hurt himself quite badly. Humpback dropped the broom. Alexander jumped up on the bed.

This convinced me beyond any doubt that all of them had gone temporarily insane. Tabaqui lifted the broom off me and handed it back to Humpback. He then said sweetly, “We’re hunting a rat. I hope you were not too inconvenienced?”

I wasn’t, but I did not particularly want to observe the extermination, either. I’d loathed stuff like that since I was a baby, be it rats or spiders. People around me seemed to get a kick out of this attitude for some reason.

“Freaking wimps,” Lary said from behind the nightstand. “Totally useless.”

Humpback and Alexander blinked. Humpback indistinctly repeated something to the effect of being afraid to hurt it.

I started putting on clothes.

“Where are you headed?” Tabaqui asked incredulously.

“I thought I’d go for a spin.”

“A spin where? It’s dark in the hallways.”

I’d completely forgotten that, but rallied and said I’d take a flashlight.

“You can’t. There’s been an increase in activity by maniacs and people with split personalities. Your flashlight would draw their attention.”

I looked around.

“Where’s Noble?”

“Now he is in fact out there.” Tabaqui nodded. “But he’s among his own kind, where you have no place.”

I decided not to press him on that “own kind” remark.

“What about Sphinx?”

“He’s with Tubby, grazing in the bathroom. To save the kid the aggravation.”

Humpback and Lary conferred and started tossing empty bottles under the bed. Black, shiny with sweat and looking unhealthy, inquired from his bunk whether he might be allowed to die in peace.

“They barge in from the yard,” Tabaqui chirped. “As soon as it turns to winter, they just swarm the House. While the cats, they come later. They like to roam while the roaming’s good. So you see, in the meantime there’s this disconnect.”

The poor rat, having had enough of the bottle barrage, darted to the center of the room and crouched in front of the open door. It definitely wasn’t thinking straight, because it didn’t even try to escape.

Lary tossed the floor-cleaning rag on top of it. Humpback stormed the resulting bump with a hoarse wail, grabbed it, and pitched it out into the corridor. Then he kicked the door closed. The books that were keeping it open went flying.

“Cool!” Lary screamed and hugged Humpback.

“There,” Tabaqui said, satisfied. “See, that didn’t take long at all.”

I was just grateful that picking up the empty bottles off the floor wasn’t going to be my responsibility. And also that the rat survived.

“Do you think it suffered much when I threw it like that?” Humpback asked.

“Come on, it was fine. It was inside a rag,” Lary said, obviously unconcerned for the rat’s well-being.

Tabaqui assured Humpback that the rat was completely content, both in flight and upon landing. Black again asked if he could now get his final rest.

That’s when Blind came in, holding the rag that formerly held the rat.

“Are you guys mental?” he asked.

“You mean it hit you?” Tabaqui said, trembling with anticipation.

“It hit me.”

“And were you surprised?”

“We both were.”