House Guest (V.S. Part 3)

The living room light was off. I don't remember flicking the switch, so our guest must have taken it upon himself to do so. Looking up as we entered and switched the lamp back on, he looked no less pale than he had earlier, but considerably healthier. He stood up politely as Granny took a seat on the reclining armchair, though he clutched at the coffee table for support with one hand while steadying himself on the couch armrest with the other. Not very graceful, but a nice gesture nonetheless. The situation seemed far more formal than my original unexpected and panicked meeting with the man who we'd found dead on our linoleum floor, and who was obviously dead no longer. I stood behind Granny's chair with the attitude of a secretary, or maybe a bodyguard.1

Granny looked sternly over her glasses at the man, causing him to shift his balance uncomfortably from one foot to another. He was slightly more presentable, having staunched the blood running down from his formerly bashed in and now very bruised head, but the fact that he had obviously done so with his jacket sleeve detracted somewhat from the overall effect. 2

"So," said Granny. I knew well the rather ominous and disappointed tone, and thus knew that it didn't actually mean anything but that she felt sorry for you, and wasn't going to embarrass you by saying so aloud. The man, however, didn't know this, and took it as some kind of reproach.3

"I'm very sorry, ma'am," he began hurriedly. "I apologize for all the inconvenience and trouble I've caused you, and-"4

"Don't apologize for the wrong things, lad." Granny interrupted. Only she could call a grown man lad and not sound ridiculous. 5

"It's certainly not your fault that someone decided to murder you on our floor. It is, however, very inconsiderate of you to intrigue us so and then not explain yourself. Though granted, you have not had much opportunity to do so. You might redeem yourself if you begin now." 6

He seemed unsure how to respond to this, so I gave a little starting push.7

"Your name, for instance?" Granny nodded approvingly at me.8

"Yes, dear, your name would make a good start." The man was perfectly willing to make a good start. Promptly, he answered,9

"Deucallion Shlonski. I'm glad to meet you both. I would bow or shake your hands, but I do not trust myself to do so while stay relatively upright. I'm still a little unsteady, you understand." Granny smiled in a way I can only describe as sweet and elderly.10

"Perfectly. I am Mrs. Jaqualine Sherbourne, and this is my granddaughter, Miss Viridian Sherbourne. We are only too pleased to make your acquaintance." All very formal and proper and polite was all this. What would we do next? Chat about the weather? Tell me this wasn't going to be dinner all over again, only better because the elegant Jasper was not present. But it did go on, at least for a bit longer.11

"Shlonski? Is that Polish?"12

"Belarusian, actually." He too seemed a little disoriented with the route our discussion was taking. Starting to clear his throat, he no doubt planned to hurry things on a little, but ended up coughing instead. Granny rose and gently pushed him into sitting on the couch again.13

"You are not well."14

"Well no," he snapped with slight irritation, "Dying is not exactly a healthy pastime, believe it or not. Neither pleasant, fun, or stress-free." 15

"And you have had considerable experience with it?" asked Granny innocently. Ah, I thought, now we are getting to it.16

"Enough. More than I'd like, certainly. Look, aren't you just a little shaken about all this? It would make me feel better to know that I'm not the only one." 17

"You're not," I hastily reassured him, "I'm shaken. Nothing shakes Granny, but if it did, she would be too." Granny glanced at me humorously, but didn't try to deny any of it.18

"How many times have you died?" she asked. Immediately, the man became noticeably wary, though he didn't seem to have the energy for full hostility.19

"I'm not going to tell you." Granny raised an eyebrow. You don't know how much and how often I envied her ability to do that. No matter how hard I tried in a mirror, I could never manage it. I just had one eye squinted and one eye wide, and still my eyebrows were on an equal level. It was no fair. I couldn't roll my tongue either, though I could roll my 'r's. 20

"May I assume that you started out with nine? That is the traditional number, isn't it?"21

"Assume all you like; I won't stop you." Nor, apparently, would he confirm anything. It was apparent that he had had bad experiences with that line of questioning before. "I'll be going and out of your way as soon as I regain enough stability to walk," he assured us. Granny shook her head reproachfully and firmly.22

"Severe blood loss. We couldn't let you do that. In a different world, or dimension, or universe? Not likely, not likely at all. You will stay as a house guest until you recover fully, and then we must find you a place here. The portal's not steady enough to be trusted to send you back to wherever you came from." 23

I exhaled sharply for the third time that day. I hadn't expected this. I don't know what I had expected, knowing Granny as I do, but this solution was not it. If you could even call it a solution. The man, or rather, Deucallion whatsit, considered her offer, still a little cool from the number-of-lives question.24

"I couldn't encroach."25

"Nor," Granny smiled sweetly and elderly again, "can you leave, currently being unable to forcefully exit this house if we don't want you to. And by the time you have recovered sufficiently to do so, you will see the error in it. You may use the guest bedroom, it being downstairs, and we will find you something in the way of clothing." She examined disapprovingly the torn and bloodstained garments he currently wore, then her gaze passed over the cuts and bruises and general beggarly appearance. "You can clean yourself up further tomorrow, after you sleep. Go prepare the room, Viridian, dear." I complied after meeting the man's eye with a rueful glance. There was no such thing as arguing with Granny when she was this way, and I wasn't even sure that I would've if it had been any use. She had a definite point. 26

I yawned as I returned to the living room to find Deucallion and Granny silently contemplating one another. 27

"All ready," I stated, and yawned again. It had been a long day.28

"Very well, then you can show this gentleman the room's location, and then retire to bed. It's been a long day for you, dear." I showed the 'gentleman' the guest room, discreetly ignoring his hand clutching my shoulder as he walked. When we arrived, and he made no move towards anything, I unceremoniously shoved him against the bed, where he sat down heavily, staring, a little dazed, like he wasn't really seeing anything, at the wall. Apparently his un-wellness, as Granny put it, was catching up to him.29

"Good night." I said, and shut the door quietly. On a second thought, I locked the door silently. 30

I walked back to Granny, and risked a question.31

"So, when are you going to ask why he was murdered? I mean, for all we know, he's a wanted criminal. We know nothing about him, and you're inviting him to stay with us? We don't know who he is!"32

"Well, dear, that's his business. It may be a touchy subject, you know, and I'm not one to pry." Oh, she was the soul of self-righteousness. She never pried, oh no. At least, she never called it that. 'Inquiring minds wish to know, dear,' she said, and 'I am merely making conversation.'33

"I locked the door," I commented. A nod.34

"Probably best. The room is secure." Meaning: 'I put a spell on it.' 35

As I mounted the stairs, she remarked softly, 36

"It's been such a while since something interesting happened around here. I think a house guest will make a welcome change." 37

Surprisingly, I fell asleep very quickly, and slept soundly until morning, when my alarm clock broke through unceremoniously into my untroubled thoughts, and another morning broke with a crash and a sound of shattering glass.