Samedi the Deafness by Jesse Ball

will be mine.

    Ansilon moved about on James's shoulder in a happy way, and his eyes opened and closed.

    We shall spend a great deal of time awake at night, then, said Ansilon, for that is my favorite time.

    —I don't mind, said James. For we shall have such adventures!

 

    Everyone was looking at him. They were waiting for him to speak. Their patience seemed inexhaustible.

    Behind James then, the maids' door opened. The maid who had opened it saw the scene, squealed, and shut the door. Within the room then, more squeals, and the sound of feet.

    —I was just, said James, looking for the fourth window in my room. It's strange, you know, to have a window go missing. I believe it can be reached by ladder, perhaps from the space behind . . .

    —Do you see what I mean? McHale said to Sermon.

    —Precisely, said Sermon.

    Leonora Loft shook her head.

    —I think, said Sermon, we should have our little talk sooner rather than later, James. There's been a problem. The police have come again. They're outside.

    —Outside? said James. But I didn't do anything. Why are they looking for me?

    —Didn't do anything? said McHale. You told me yourself you pushed Mayne out the window.

    —I never said that.

    James looked helplessly back and forth. What was going on? Why were they all down here in the first place?

    —Well, I suppose you didn't, but it was obvious. After all, why would you be in his room, in his home?

    —We should go downstairs, said McHale. The police are waiting.

    James looked from face to face. Leonora looked intrigued by the whole thing. McHale was impassive. Sermon was grave. And Grieve's father, a large man with a mole, whose presence seemed to fill the hallway, Grieve's father was smiling.

    —I know you're the ones, said James. I know you killed McHale, and I know that you, he said, pointing his finger at Grieve's father. I know you're SAMEDI.

    Grieve's father laughed.

    —My daughter, he said, thinks very highly of you. I understand that you've been put into a series of trying positions, and that certainly in such positions no one would look their best. Nonetheless, I had hoped to see you do a bit better. Of course the police are not outside; of course we will not give you up to them. Have you not already been assured of that much? Here we find you listening at doors, and not even at the doors of influence and power, instead at such a trivial door as this? The speech of maids is like the speech of jaybirds, giving nothing, taking nothing away. A chattering, a noiseless, noiseful clatter. And you listen to it through a glass?

    He sighed, and ran one of his hands across the other.

    —We shall, of course, be speaking more before long. You understand very little of what goes on here, and your head is full of poor Tommy's foolish words. If only he had been kept here, that unfortunate accident would never have occurred.

    The others all looked at one another in sadness.

    —However, he continued, you are here, and here to stay, I assume. My daughter speaks of a trip abroad with you. Well, it can occur; I will not say it cannot occur. But as for your making yourself useful, your finding some useful employment, well, I should think a man like you would want to do that, would want to do more than simply hang around a place all day doing nothing, living off the work of others. You wouldn't want that, would you?

    James admitted that he did not like to be a burden on others. In fact, he did not intend to be.

    —Then I suggest you come and speak to me, tomorrow, about ten in the morning. The light in my rooms is quite fine then and encourages clear thinking and lucidity of action. We shall come up with something for you then. After all, you are quite talented, I hear. Is it true, as Grieve says, that you memorized my entire book?

    There was a general gasping in the hall. McHale and Sermon looked at each other incredulously.

    —It can't be, said Sermon.

    —He is one of the best, said Grieve's