Samedi the Deafness by Jesse Ball Page A

here.

    She opened the door and slid out.

    Sermon shook his head.

    —It's a long life. People say that life is short, but I don't believe it. One day, one long day after another, and nothing to fill the days but complexities and cancers. Do you know, the word cancer was once used for any illness that could not be cured?

    —I don't think that's true, said James.

    —No, it's not, said Sermon. It's not true at all. The effect of untrue statements on casual conversation is one of my great loves, my great ongoing investigations. Shall we go inside?

 

    As they approached the house, McHale came out the front door. He rang his bell. Everyone froze. Leonora seemed in particular to take a severe pleasure in freezing even her expression. She stared off in a dazed fashion towards the gardens.

    After the count of fifteen, McHale approached Sermon.

    —Stark wants to speak to you.

    Sermon nodded.

    To Sim he said:

    —Later. I'll send a note.

    He held his arm out. Leonora took it, and the two followed McHale back into the house. McHale had not looked at James Sim at all. He had acted, in fact, as though Sim and Leonora were not present. Perhaps that was the proper way to use the bell technique. James thought back to Graham's behavior earlier in the day. Had Graham ignored the maid who was folding towels? He had, certainly he had. But then, everyone ignored the servants, so that meant nothing.

    He looked up at the exterior of the house. Many windows ran along it. Hmm, he thought, that's odd. There was a window on the outside of his room that was not on the inside. How could that be?

 

    The Eavesdropping Booth

    He went up to his room. Sure enough, there were only three windows. Yet from the outside there were four. And the fourth was plainly in the middle, as he could see his room through the other three, while the fourth was dark.

    There was a section where the room sloped in, but it was only half the height, perhaps two-thirds the height of the ceiling, and on an angle. A statue had been placed there, a wooden gargoyle seeming to climb through a lattice of carved leaves. Curious, thought James. The window is behind there.

    He went down one flight of stairs to the area beneath his room. There was a door, locked, where his door would have been. It was no. 53.

    The noise of his trying the door handle had disturbed the occupant. The door opened. A sallow-faced man stood looking at him.

    —Can't you read? he asked.

    —Read what? asked James.

    The man snorted. On the door James saw there was a drawing of an elephant being eaten by vultures. The elephant's eyes had that strange quality of some eighteenth-century portraits: they seemed to follow James from side to side.

    —Isn't that clear enough for you? asked the man.

    —I suppose, said James. I was wondering, is there a ladder in your room?

    —Look for yourself, said the man.

    He snorted again.

    James started to go past him into the room, but stopped. There was no room. There were no windows at all. A wall crossed, cutting the room off after only a few feet. There was only space for a pallet and a pillow, a sheet. The walls were covered with more drawings of elephants being eaten by various things. Pigeons, men, women, dogs. All the eyes were the same. The ceiling of the room also was sloped and low.

    —It's quite a small room, said James.

    —It's all they'll give me, said the man. But I'd like to see them live in it. Shut the door? he asked.

    —I'd rather not, said James.

    He stepped back out into the hall.

    —Suit yourself, said the man.

    He went back inside and curled up in an odd way on the bed with his leg sticking up. He leered at James and scratched his oddly rounded belly.

    James stared back.

    The man sat up suddenly.

    —Close the goddamned door, you little shit.

    James shut the door.

 

    Therefore, thought James, there must be another room beyond the first. But how to get to that room? Beside the door to the tiny room, there was