“You could help me,” she said. “If you’d like, of course. If you don’t want to, I’m not going to be angry.”
A drop found its way down Grasshopper’s neck. He shivered.
“Doing what?” he said.
This must have had something to do with dogs and being brave. Or maybe he just imagined that because she’d mentioned those things.
“I need someone to carry my letters to a certain person.” Her hair fell down over her face. “Do you understand?”
He did. Witch was of Moor’s people. Letters were for one of Skull’s people. That much was obvious. It was also bad. And dangerous. For her, and whomever the letters were for, and whoever would deliver them. It would have to be a secret from everybody. So that’s why she asked about him being brave. And that’s why the yard, the twilight, no coat, no hat. She must have spotted him out the window and rushed straight down.
“I understand,” Grasshopper said. “He’s one of Skull’s people.”
“Yes,” Witch said. “You got it.”
She reached into the pocket and took out cigarettes and a lighter. Her hands were turning red from the cold. He noticed loose threads hanging off the patchwork suede vest.
“Scared?” she asked.
Grasshopper didn’t answer.
“Yeah, I am too,” she said. Then lit the cigarette. Dropped the lighter, but didn’t pick it up. Hid her hands under her armpits and hunched over. Silvery water beads glistened in her hair. Witch swayed back and forth on the railing and watched him.
“You don’t have to,” she said. “I am not going to put a curse on you. If you believe that nonsense. Simple yes or no, that’s all.”
“Yes,” Grasshopper said.
Witch nodded, as if she never expected a different answer.
“Thank you.”
Grasshopper was swinging his leg, soaked all the way to his underwear. And he didn’t care about being wet anymore. The yard was sinking into the deepening blue. He heard dogs howling somewhere. They might have been the same dogs Humpback and he had just fed.
“Who is he?” Grasshopper asked.
Witch slid off the railing and picked up the lighter.
“Who do you think?”
Usually Grasshopper liked guessing games, but right now he was too cold, and Skull’s people were too many to recall each of them one by one and try to imagine if she could have fallen in love with them or not.
“I don’t know,” he said resignedly. “You’ll have to tell me.”
Witch leaned closer and whispered in his ear. Grasshopper’s eyes opened wide. She laughed softly.
“Why didn’t you just say so? Like first thing! Why?”
“Shhh. Quiet,” she said, still laughing. “There’s no need to shout. It’s not really important.”
“How could you
“To make sure you didn’t agree only because of that. I wanted you to think it over properly.”
“It will make me so happy,” Grasshopper whispered.
Witch laughed again, and again hid her face behind hair.
“Of course,” she said. “Of course it will . . . Still. Don’t you want to think about it?”
“Where’s the letter?”
She warmed her hands with her breath and took an envelope out of a vest pocket.
“Take this to your friend,” she said. “He’ll give you another one, bring it back to me. Tonight. First floor, by the laundry room. After dinner. I’ll be waiting. Or maybe you’ll have to wait a little. But be careful.”
“What friend?” Grasshopper said, surprised, but then understood. “Blind?”
“Yes. Try to do it so that no one sees you.”
“And you didn’t say anything about Blind either. Why?”
Witch put her hand in his pocket, stuffed the letter all the way down, and then buttoned the flap.
“You were testing my courage,” Grasshopper said. “Testing
Witch brushed his face with her fingers.
“I know.”
“Because you’re Witch?”
“I’m no witch. I just know. I know many things.”
She pulled the hood over his head.
“Let’s go. It’s getting cold.”
Grasshopper was not feeling cold at all. Quite the opposite.
“Tell me,” he whispered when they were climbing the stairs. “Tell me, what is it you know about me?”
“I know how you’re going to be when you’re older,” she said.
Black tent of hair and long legs. Sharp clatter of steel-shod boots on the steps.
“Really?”
“Sure. It’s obvious.”
She stopped.
“Run along, my godson. It would be best if we weren’t seen together.”
“Yeah!”
He took the rest of the stairs at a run and only turned back when he reached the landing.
Witch raised her hand in a farewell gesture. He nodded and took off again. He ran without stopping the rest of the way. The soaked jeans clung to his legs.
Blind wasn’t in the room. Magician, his bad leg propped on a pillow, absentmindedly tortured the guitar. Humpback’s bunk was topped by a triangular white tent. This tent, made from bedsheets strung over wooden slats, came crashing down every morning, and every night Humpback resurrected it. He liked his privacy.
