Page 43 of The House of Quiet
Chapter Thirty-Six
A Nimbus Shattered
He pads down the hallway.
He’s sleeping, dreaming. Sleeping, dreaming. Sleeping, dreaming. Sleeping, dreaming. Skimming away from those selves because there are no real thoughts, nothing to keep him there.
He climbs the stairs.
She’s standing, waiting, staring at the red circle and ready for more in the morning.
It doesn’t matter which one she takes, but it will be nice to know them fully.
To give them the blessing of quiet. But it has to happen in the morning.
The one who was delivered when they took Sky and Rabbit is empty now, and they need more if the heart is going to keep beating.
It’s hard, when there’s no one to put the noise into.
She has to hold it all. She never sleeps anyway, but this is a wakefulness that hurts .
It’s a wakefulness that leaves too much room to think about how she knew Rabbit’s name.
She hasn’t known any of their names before.
Is Mouse still in there? the little girl asked, and she’s not, but the House Wife misses her now.
He turns down the hallway. He walks quietly but confidently, box in hand, assured as always that he’s doing the right thing. If he’s doing it, then it’s right. That’s the compass he lives his life by, his only true north: himself.
She’s half-asleep, leg hanging off the bed, too sad and tired and drunk to lift it. The blood is cut off, and it tingles and burns. Maybe that’s why she doesn’t move it. She needs sensation, any sensation, anything. She’s numb all over and has been for so long.
He stares down at Birdie, still and peaceful in sleep.
All they did for her, and this is what they get from it?
They only sent her in the hopes she’d find Magpie and be able to handle her.
But without Magpie, Birdie is useless. She’s a problem, one that he shouldn’t have to take care of himself.
But he always ends up with all the work, doesn’t he?
Still, this task is easy enough. A dead bird is a silent one.
His hands slip into his box to pull out Birdie’s executioner.
None of these bodies are his none of these minds are his none of these hands are his but at last Nimbus finds the right one and for a moment he connects to himself enough to scream .