The House of Grey- Volume 3

by Earl, Collin

  “Your implacable wit constrains you?” Artorius’s face scrunched up, his mouth chewing up the statement. “You’ve been hanging out with Brian too much, Grey. Who talks like that?”

  Brian interjected. “You speak as if that were a bad thing.”

  Artorius’ whistle gave him away.

  Brian laughed, as only he could, in his kind way. He addressed Monson.

  “Master Grey.” His voice took on a serious yet strangely inquisitive tone.

  “Yes, Brian.”

  “This is the first you’ve heard of these happenings, is it not?”

  Monson’s hand found its way to the back of his neck. “Yes.”

  Brian’s gaze became fatherly as he scrutinized Monson, reminding Monson of Mr. Gatt. “Is there anything you would like to discuss? I can imagine that this is all very troubling to you.”

  Monson struggled to find the words. He wanted to discuss all of it, the video, the bridge, his memory loss, and his apparent inability to distinguish fact from reality. He wanted to. He just did not know where to start. Everything was so muddled. He finally settled on-

  “I do want to discuss…everything.”

  Brian, Casey and Artorius, watched him in silence, breaths held in anticipation.

  “But…I think I need some time.”

  Casey spoke up. “Usually I would be complaining right now-”

  Artorius cut in. “I think the word you’re looking for is ‘whining.’”

  “Shut up, Arthur.”

  “Just trying to help. Keeping it real.” He put his fingers together to form a “W”.

  Monson chuckled. “Artorius, the west side sign? Seriously? I wasn’t under the impression that was cool anymore.”

  Artorius’ face sagged in defeat, though it was obvious he was trying to control his amusement.

  Casey scowled. “Anyway, I know I’ll just have to add this to the list of things Monson Grey needs to explain, but this once, I agree with him.”

  Artorius spoke up. “Shall we reconvene? All in favor say ‘aye.’” Artorius raised his hand as he spoke.

  “Aye,” they all said.

  The conversation moved to mundane things from that point, which all, even Brian, took up with enthusiasm. There were things to ponder, questions and answers to be sought, but right now, they needed the average and everyday, and that was what they stuck to. They took their conversation to the sitting room while Brian made the boys something he called a smoothie. The boys did their best to choke down the drink, which tasted like vegetable-flavored chalk.

  “Movie time!” Casey called, clapping his hands together.

  “Movie time?” Monson looked at the clock. “Case, are you sure that’s a good idea? It’s getting pretty late.”

  “Stop being such a sissy, Grey.” Casey pulled a DVD from his bag. “We’re on a very strict movie-viewing schedule, and you’re already behind.”

  “I call the armchair,” yelled Artorius, running over to the seat and tossing himself into it. “By the way, what movie are we on? I need to get into the mindset.”

  Casey’s voice took on a presenter’s tone. “This evening, our feature presentation will be….” Casey glanced at Artorius, “Drum roll, please.”

  Artorius sat up and started tapping on the coffee table. Casey tossed the DVD box onto the table and threw out his hands as if to say, “Ta da!”

  Monson and Artorius glanced at the title, then said in unison, “Never heard of it.”

  Casey’s face contorted, changing from overwhelming joy to underwhelming contempt. “You guys suck. Seriously.” He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter, you’re gonna love it. I promise.”

  ***

  Forty-five minutes later, Monson was on the edge of his seat. Moving beyond the fact that angry women were hot and that Monson had found his first love in the movie’s redheaded lead, the film’s plot line had a lot in common with his own life. The main character had lost her memory and was beleaguered by bad dreams and unexplainable skills. Even more than that was the presence of something else in her psyche…something evil.

  Monson’s cell phone rang from within his bedroom.

  That’s odd, he thought. Who would be calling me? Taris usually sends me a text, and Artorius and Casey are right here.

  Monson immediately realized how sad that was.

  “Hey, Casey-will you pause the movie for me?”

  “Sure thing, Grey, just hurry. I want to finish this.”

  Monson stood up, stretching his legs, then dashed to his room where he grabbed his phone, not even looking at the incoming number.

  “Hello.”

  “Monson, honey?”

  “Molly!” Monson felt a foolish grin cover his face. “How are you?”

  “I’m good, sweetie, how are you?” Her voice sounded strained.

  He paused at this. That did not sound like Molly at all. A commotion in the other room caused Monson to shut his door. He walked to his window seat and sat himself in the exact middle of the cushion.

  Idiots, thought Monson, adjusting to find a comfortable position. Can’t you fools sit quietly for a few minutes?

  “Monson?”

  He returned his attention to his phone. “Sorry about that, Molly. Artorius and Casey are making a ruckus.”

  “I see.”

  “Anyway.” Monson ran a hand through his hair. “Why do you sound so forlorn? You sound like someone killed your cat.”

  Molly chuckled. “Well, we know that’s not true. I don’t even have a cat.”

  Monson rolled his eyes, suddenly glad she could not see him.

  “I know that, Molly, it’s just-”

  “And don’t roll your eyes at me.”

  Monson spoke softly in return. “What did you say?”

  The phone was dead. He pulled it from his ear and stared at it in confusion.

  “I said, don’t roll your eyes at me.”

  Monson slowly raised his chin. Molly was standing in his bedroom doorway.

  Chapter 30 – Reunion

  Monson could not believe his eyes. “Molly? What are you doing here?”

  Monson’s attorney gave him a wide smile while strolling towards him. She wrapped him up in her arms before he could say anything more.

  “Oh, Monson honey. I’ve missed you.” She squeezed him. “So very much.”

  He spoke through his tumult of emotions, repeating his question. “Molly! What are you doing here? Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?”

  “Shhh.” He went silent. She continued. “There will be time for all that.” She squeezed him even tighter. “Not quite yet. Not quite yet.”

  He felt the air drain from his lungs. The feeling was oddly familiar. Then an image came to him: Coach Hawke.

  He spoke in gasping puffs. “Molly, you wouldn’t happen to know Coach Hawke, would you?’

  Molly squeezed him even tighter. “Now, what did I just say about talking right now?”

  A sniff from the direction of his doorway caused both of them to swing around. Casey and Artorius stood there, both wiping away mock tears.

  “Ahh geez, now that is how an attorney/client relationship should be.” Casey glanced towards Artorius, who was nodding his head vigorously.

  “Yeah, there would be a lot less malpractice if that were the case. We should write the bar association and tell them to add it to the professional rules of ethics.”

  “Lawyers have ethics?”

  “Oh yeah. They have to take a test and everything.”

  “Shocking.”

  Artorius nodded his head. “That’s what I said.”

  They grinned at each other. This continued for only the briefest of seconds when an unexpected change in Casey’s facial expression caused Monson to blink in confusion.

  He watched as Casey’s sappy gaze settled more intently on Artorius.

  “Arthur….”

  The name reverberated as he laced his voice with melodramatic inflection.

  Artorius mimicked the tone.<
br />
  “Casey….”

  Casey clapped his hands over Artorius’, giving him big doe eyes. “You know-” He sniffed. “You had me at ‘hello.’”

  “Don’t start crying, man, because if you start, then I’ll start….”

  His voice trailed off. They continued to stare at each other for a long moment, then both broke down in mock tears, embracing and whimpering as they held on to one another. This turned to out to be mistake, however. They were so enthralled by their own mock-drama that they didn’t notice Molly pick up the pillows. The projectiles slammed into their targets with surprising force. Casey and Artorius stopped just in time to see Molly fuming. She stood upright, figuratively bearing down on both of them despite not moving an inch. Casey and Artorius cowered under her frightening glare.

  Molly cracked her knuckles threateningly. “You dare...” The indignation in her voice seemed to shake the surrounding area, and as Monson stared, appeared to take a physical form in the shape of a sharp-toothed monster or demon that appeared over her shoulder. He rubbed his eyes and was relieved to see that the image was gone and he was in fact seeing things. Maybe it was just her outrage in combination with his overactive imagination. He shook his head. He needed to cut back on the anime. He could still feel Molly’s anger, though, as she finished her thought.

  “You dare…ruin my precious reunion with my Monson.”

  Casey and Artorius shrank back, the venom in Molly’s voice wiping the smirks off their faces. Monson watched the countenances of his two friends change, becoming sincerely concerned. Molly took a step in their direction. Her fierce aura seemed to intensify the closer she moved towards them. They took a step back. She continued to advance, and again, they retreated. This process continued until they found themselves against the door of Monson’s room. Backed up against it, they eyed her apprehensively as she closed in and got right up in their faces. The tension hung in the air when Molly abruptly raised her hand. Both Casey and Artorius closed their eyes in anticipation. They opened them again when she placed her hands on their cheeks.

  “Oh, did I scare you?” She tweaked their noses playfully.

  Monson stumbled back to the window seat, unable to control his laughter. Molly smiled coyly at the two and started to chuckle. Casey and Artorius eventually followed suit.

  Monson could barely hear Casey’s voice over the laughter. “Molly, congratulations on being the scariest person I’ve ever met.”

  The laughter died out as a rap on Monson’s door caught their attention.

  “Master Grey, Ms. Pennmentail, your tea is ready.”

  “Excellent, Brian, thank you.” Molly gestured to the boys indicating they should follow. They all walked through the now-open doors. Brian stood at attention, bowing slightly as the group entered the room. Molly grinned broadly and took a seat in one of the large armchairs.

  “Oh, that’s better.” She sunk into the leather seat. “I hate helicopter rides. They are always so noisy.”

  “You came in on a helicopter?” Monson’s voice held a hint of excitement. “That’s so cool.”

  Casey and Artorius both nodded their heads in agreement. Casey spoke, “But why did you come by helicopter?” He scratched at his neck. “For that matter, why did you come in the first place?”

  “What do you mean, Cassius?” Molly sat up a little as Brian handed her a cup and saucer. She demurely sipped her dark grey tea. “Can’t I come and see my cute client just because I want to?”

  Artorius leveled a beady eye towards Molly “You know, for an attorney you aren’t a very good liar.”

  Silence fell upon the small gathering. Molly gave Artorius a spiteful glare but instantly let it slip as she surveyed the boys. She exhaled in an uncharacteristically desolate way.

  “I did want to see you, Monson honey.” She gave him a guilty look. “But I also came because I heard a special someone might be visiting in the next few days.”

  The silence stretched and for a moment, the atmosphere felt very serious. Monson voiced the obvious question.

  “Who’s coming Molly, and why?” He ran a weary hand across his face. “You wouldn’t make a trek here, by helicopter no less, except in some pretty extreme circumstances. What’s going on? Is the FBI finally coming to get me?”

  Molly took another sip of tea and studied him for a moment before answering. “Monson, what’s wrong?”

  He hesitated. Discussing subjects related to events that potentially did not happen was not the brightest of ideas. The Damion Peterson in his dream-that is, if it was a dream and Damion did actually attack him in the Horum Vir’s weight room. (There was also the possibility that Monson was simply crazy. He would have to work more with that premise later.) Anyway, Dream Damion said that Molly had taken some extreme measures in an attempt to keep people away. Finding out whether or not that was true would put Monson in a very tough spot. He wanted to know; it would kill two birds with one incredible stone. One, it would verify that at least a part of the encounter with Damion was real. Two, it might address some of his questions about Molly, many of which he was dying to have answered. Despite all that, it was a tricky choice. He could not ask without inviting questions himself. Everyone would want to know what he was talking about, and it would be impossible to lie. Not with Brian and Molly there. In reality, if he tried to establish the validity of Dream Damion’s information then he might just find himself forced into divulging the full account of that rather distasteful scene, dream or not, and that was definitely not on his to-do list.

  A dream, thought Monson sarcastically, as his memories from the bridge, the information revealed about that fateful day, and the image of his unscarred sadistic self swirled together. So many unanswered questions-so much unknown. He felt pangs of fear in his gut. He instinctively glanced at his cut and bruised knuckles. He thought of a teary-eyed Cyann as he tried to push it all aside, attempting to zero back in on the conversation. When he did, he found that everyone was staring at him.

  “Sorry,” said Monson shaking his head. “Just ignore me.”

  Molly narrowed her eyes at him. He hated it when she did that. She had this annoying habit of closely observing him in an attempt to ascertain his mood or feelings. If he did not voluntarily explain his behavior, she would cross-examine him in a way that would make Perry Mason jealous. Monson waited for her verdict.

  “What happened to your knuckles?”

  Molly’s voice sounded both angry and gentle at the same time. A voice that was a confusing torrent of emotions. He did not know how to explain it.

  “I wouldn’t bother.” Casey shot Monson a sour look “Grey has this incredible ability to avoid questions. He’ll probably say he cut himself shaving or something.”

  Monson matched Casey’s expression. “I didn’t avoid your question; you didn’t even ask about my hand.”

  “I sure noticed that you tried to hide it.”

  “You can’t prove that.”

  “Isn’t that statement proof enough?”

  “Monson honey…I’m getting some very surprising vibes. How…how much do they know?”

  There it was. She had asked it.

  Monson’s gaze turned downward. He was not sure how much more he could take; the nightmares, the memories, the revelations; it was all mounting painfully. Now? Now he had to try to explain to Molly why he had not…why he could not….

  He mentally blanked. All he could do was shake his head.

  “They don’t know anything?” asked Molly seriously.

  He again responded in a thoroughly non-verbal way.

  “Monson!” Her hands started to tremble, a clear sign she was upset. “You haven’t told them anything about-”

  “He’s told us some stuff,” said Artorius, his voice growing so loud it drowned out Molly’s. “And we’ve been able to figure out some of the other things, and now we even know about Baroty Bri-”

  “Baroty Bridge!?!” Molly’s voice cracked. She glanced at Monson. “What do they know about Baroty Brid
ge? We don’t even know about Baroty Bridge, unless-”

  Monson recognized the glint in her eye. “It’s not like that, Molly. Gossip Guy just had a special on Baroty Bridge; some security camera footage recently surfaced and now-”

  “Monson dear, stop right there.”

  Everything, literally everything, stopped there. Molly’s bearing changed dramatically, as if something was boiling just beneath the surface. Something destructive. She proceeded. “What do you mean, Gossip Guy came out with a special report-what camera footage?”

  The boys did not have a chance to answer before Molly plunged her hand into her pocket, pulling out a glinting silver data phone.

  “You aren’t going to be able to find the story,” said Casey. “It’s on the platinum section of Gossip Guy’s member section. You have to be a Coren University student to gain access to it.”

  Molly swore loudly and pushed herself out of her chair. “OK Cassius, I want you to show me.”

  He was already moving towards the study, but turned to Artorius and Monson. “You coming?”

  “Yeah, I want to finish watching the video.” Artorius rose as Molly and Casey disappeared into the study. He lingered by his chair.

  “Grey, you coming?”

  “No, I don’t think so.”

  Artorius was perplexed. “But your grandfather is on that video, Grey.”

  “I know, Arthur. I know.”

  “I… see.” Artorius walked away reluctantly.

  Monson knew he was simply not ready to find out any more about Baroty Bridge. He was already scared. It was all too much, too fast. He was not able; he was not ready. He found the silence of the now-vacant room unbearable. Sure, the muted sounds of Derek’s sermon permeated the dead space, but there seemed to be a disconnect between the study and the sitting room, like they were worlds apart. He could not stand it any longer. He stood and went to his room, closing the doors behind him.

  ***

  “Monson honey, can I come in?” Molly did not wait for his reply. She opened the doors slowly to find him on the window seat wrapped in a fleece blanket. He had a large leather-bound volume open on his lap, a discourse on the conspiracy theories surrounding Baroty Bridge. The subdued tap of windblown rain splattered against the large window. It had lulled him into a state of zen. He smiled gently as she walked towards him.