“If you thought of how we are going to go there and clean their clocks, I’d rather stay here and sleep.”
Blind did not answer and started in the direction of their dorm. Grasshopper followed him, grumbling and fuming.
“I could half do with a cigarette right now,” he said.
“You’re too young to smoke,” Blind said without turning his head.
“For how long do they usually beat up newbies?” Grasshopper caught up with him. “A dozen times? A hundred? Several months?”
“Once, maybe twice.”
Grasshopper stumbled, flabbergasted.
“Once or twice? Why are they still picking on me, then? It’s been forever! How am I so special?”
Blind stopped.
“You’re special because you’re not alone. There’s two of us, and that means war. Us against them, them against us. I thought you knew.”
“You mean that if not for you . . .”
“They would’ve accepted you long ago.”
Blind wasn’t joking, because he was never joking. Grasshopper searched his face for even a trace of a smile, but Blind was somber.
“So all of that is because of you?” said Grasshopper in a dead little voice.
“Yup. Took you long enough.”
Blind turned around and started walking again. Grasshopper staggered along. He was the most miserable person in the whole House. And it was Elk’s fault. Elk the kind, Elk the wise. Elk who gave him a friend and protector, along with an army of enemies and interminable war. He never would fit in with the boys as long as Blind was with him, and Blind was going to be with him forever, because that’s what Elk wished. They would always be hated and hunted. He wanted to cry and scream, but instead he silently kept up with Blind. Because if he were to say anything against Elk, Blind would go ballistic, and that would be even worse.
Blind stopped in front of door number 10. A senior dorm. The door was painted black, with messages in red and white and splashes and splotches of paint for effect.
Blind stood and listened. Grasshopper was rereading the messages, even though he knew them all by heart.
TO EACH HIS SONG.
SPRING IS THE TIME OF HORRIBLE CHANGES.
Den of the Purple Ratter.
BEWARE. HERE BE DOG THAT BITES.
NO KNOCKING. NO ADMITTANCE.
In the House, a door into someone’s dorm was not always a door. For some it could as well have been a solid wall. This was one such door, so when Blind knocked, Grasshopper gasped in shock.
“What are you doing? We’re not allowed in there!”
Blind entered without even waiting for a response.
The door closed and Grasshopper crouched down next to it. He could guess why Blind would need Ancient and tried very hard not to think about it.
After some time the door opened again. The messages shifted and then moved back in their place. Grasshopper stood up. Blind leaned against the door with a mysterious smile. His unseeing eyes flowed wetly behind the half-closed eyelids.
“You’re going to get an amulet,” he said. “But you’ll have to wait a little.”
Grasshopper’s heart skipped a beat and crashed down into the pit of his stomach. His knees buckled.
“Thank you.” His whisper was barely audible. “Oh, thank you.”
A nightlight turned toward the wall illuminated the darkened room. Ancient meditated over a tin box with an open lid. Talismans against the evil eye looked back at him through their glass pupils. Stones with holes in them; monogrammed buttons, coins, and medallions splashed with patina; dog teeth and cat teeth; fingernail-sized shards covered in Chinese characters; mysterious seeds on strings. A treasure trove such as to make young Hoover lose his senses were he ever to see it. There was a lot to choose from, but Ancient couldn’t make up his mind. Finally he closed his eyes and reached out at random.
A tiny sandstone kitten. It had a human face, gouged by the long wait inside the box and repeated encounters with its other inhabitants. Ancient turned it around in his fingers, smiled, and put it on top of a scrap of suede.
To it he added a root that resembled a rat’s tail, and a chip of turquoise. He admired his creation for a while, then took a drag on his cigarette and carefully dropped the accumulated ash into the middle of the tableau. Folded the corners to produce a small suede pouch and sewed up the top with thread.
“Let’s hope you can bring happiness to your very green owner,” he said doubtfully, setting it aside to look for a suitable cord to hang it on.
Grasshopper lingered timidly at the door, not daring to enter. The senior was sitting on a striped mattress set directly on the floor next to a large fish tank. His hair was completely white, his face had almost the same color as the hair, and the whiteness of his fingers made it hard to distinguish the cigarette he was holding. On his face only the lips and the eyes had any color or life in them. Wine-colored eyes in the halo of white eyelashes.
“So it’s you who needs an amulet?” Ancient asked. “Come in.”
Grasshopper approached, tense and apprehensive, even though he knew that Ancient was not going to jump off his mattress and attack him. He couldn’t, even if he wanted to.
The fish tank glowed green. It contained only two fish, two small black triangles. Glasses with sticky residue on their bottoms crowded the straw mat in front of the mattress.
“Lean closer,” Ancient said.
Grasshopper crouched next to him and Ancient put the amulet around his neck. A small pouch of gray suede with white stitches.
“That friend of yours, very tenacious,” Ancient said. “Obstinate, even. Both are commendable qualities, but they can really get on one’s nerves. I never make amulets for juniors. You are lucky. You’re going to serve as an exception.”
Grasshopper tried to see his amulet without appearing to look at it directly.
“What’s in there?” he whispered.
“Your power.”
Ancient reached and tucked the amulet inside Grasshopper’s shirt.
“Better this way,” he said. “Less visible. Your power and your fortune. Almost as much as I gave Skull back then. So be careful. And try not to show it to anyone.”
Grasshopper blinked, stunned by Ancient’s words.
“Wow!” He lowered his head and looked at the harmless bump under his shirt with reverent awe. “That’s too much.”
“There’s no such thing as too much,” Ancient said with a laugh. “And besides, it’s not going to come right away. Please don’t imagine yourself walking out of here the next Skull. All in good time.”
“Thank you.”
Grasshopper felt the need to say more, but he didn’t know what. He was very bad at those things. His lips formed a smile all by themselves. A silly, happy smile. He looked at his feet, grinning widely, and just kept repeating softly: “Thank you . . . Thank you . . .”
In his mind he was already ripping the pouch apart with Blind’s fingers. What’s inside? Could it be another monkey skull? Or something even more wondrous?
Ancient appeared to have read his thoughts.
“An amulet cannot be opened, or it will lose all of its power. For at least two years you are not allowed to do it. After that time, maybe. And don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
Grasshopper’s grin disappeared.
“I’m never ever going to do that.”
“Run along, then.” Ancient dropped the cigarette in the glass of lemonade and looked at his watch. “You’ve taken a lot of my time as it is.”
Grasshopper ran out, not missing the opportunity to demonstrate to Ancient how he could push door handles with his feet.
Blind was crouching by the door but rose to meet him.
“Well?”
“I have it,” Grasshopper reported in a low whisper and stuck out his chest. “Feel it. Under the shirt.”
Blind’s fingers slithered under his shirt and searched for the pouch. They tickled, and Grasshopper giggled and fidgeted.