The Gray House

He approached Grasshopper and looked at him intently.

“I like you, young man,” he said earnestly. “And now let us say our good-byes.”

“You’re going,” Grasshopper drawled dejectedly.

The boy winked. His eyes were brown, but of such a vivid hue that they seemed almost orange.

“Only as far as under the bed.”

He waved, got on all fours, and crawled under the mattress. Then he scrambled around there, swearing softly, and disappeared.

Grasshopper ran to the bed and listened intently. It was very quiet. You could only distinguish the guest’s soft breathing if you bent down all the way to the floor. Grasshopper returned to the windowsill. He was deeply intrigued, but he knew that the nurses must find him in his regular position should they check his room. He rested his chin on his knee and peered into the window, watching and not seeing the yard and the boys now teeming there. He was afraid that anyone coming in would see his flushed cheeks and hear his thumping heart.

They came for him at the assigned time and took him to the playroom, where the prosthetics and the tasks to be performed with them were waiting. When he came back, the nurse was already in with lunch, so he couldn’t check if the vampire was still under the bed. And after lunch came Elk.

“How’s my student doing?” he asked, opening the door. He had a stack of books in his hands. The white lab coat made him look even taller.

“Chirping nonstop, like a budgie,” Nurse Agatha complained, wiping Grasshopper’s mouth. “Didn’t eat a thing,” she added as she lifted the tray, inviting Elk to observe the smeared mashed potatoes and the wrecked meat loaf.

Grasshopper had indeed been talking without taking a breath. He dreaded pauses and silence. That’s when the nurse would hear something else and look under the bed. He doubted the visitor was still there but couldn’t risk it if he were.

“Curious,” Elk said, looking Grasshopper in the eye. “He’s not usually the chatty type. He is an indifferent eater, though.”

“Well, he sure is chatty today,” the nurse said, putting the tray on the nightstand and covering it with a napkin. “It’s your turn now. I’m getting a headache with this boy and his stories. Never in my life have I heard so much nonsense at once.”

“I’ll do my best,” Elk said, sitting on the bed and putting the books on the chair.

“He really is a little angel,” the nurse cooed. “I almost thought we were boring him here. But he seems to have shaken it off today. Talking and talking, like he couldn’t stop.”

“I wonder what’s gotten into him,” Elk said with a smile.

Grasshopper looked at him and shrugged.

Elk suddenly grew serious.

“Any news of the runaway?” he asked the nurse.

The nurse frowned and started whispering.

“None. I wouldn’t put it past him to be outside the House by now. The doctor is going crazy. He asked you to make sure and drop in.”

Grasshopper pricked his ears while casually studying the spines of the books Elk had brought.

“Certainly,” Elk assured the nurse. “It is a serious problem.”

“Yes,” the nurse said, getting up. “What could be more serious? You try and feed him. Maybe he won’t talk you to death.”

She walked out, leaving the lunch tray behind.

Elk turned to Grasshopper.

“Listen, kid, have you by any chance met a boy here today, in blue jeans and with the gray bangs? About your height?”

“No, I haven’t. Why?”

“Nothing,” Elk said and smiled at the ceiling. “Just that if you do, could you tell him that he’s getting a lot of people in a lot of trouble? Including me.”

Grasshopper nodded.

“I’ll be sure to tell him that. If I see him,” Grasshopper said. “What did he do?”

Elk lifted the napkin for some reason and studied the contents of the tray.

“Many things. Enough for ten people. Are you going to eat this?”

“No,” Grasshopper said. “Well, maybe later. Not now.”

“All right,” Elk said and stood up. “Come on, let’s get you dressed. We’ll go for a walk. You need some fresh air once in a while.”

Grasshopper reluctantly slid off the bed. Elk dug in his pocket, produced a slip of paper, smoothed it out, and placed it on the pillow.

“A letter for you,” he said. “Read it and let’s go.”

Grasshopper looked at the crumpled scrap with a single word: Miss. He knew Blind well enough to guess that he meant “I miss you.” Blind was missing him!

“Thanks,” he said to Elk. “How is he? Are they picking on him?”

“I don’t know,” said Elk. He seemed very tired. “I know so little about you, really.”

They walked up and down the hospital wing’s deck, protected from the wind by the convex overhang. Elk was relating the news of the Stuffage, Grasshopper just half listening. After the walk, Elk took him for the second session with the prosthetics. Then he watched a television show in the hall, which was allowed every other day. Then dinner with Nurse Maria, plumper and younger than Nurse Agatha. This time Grasshopper ate in silence, completely sure that the visitor was long gone. No one, not even a vampire, would be patient enough to hang under the bed for this long.