The Sorcerer's House (19 page)

Should you wish to engage me, you may write me or reach me at the number above.

But you need not. Rest assured, you and I shall soon be in psychic contact.

Yours truly,

Mrs. O. Pogach

"Madame Orizia"

Dear George:

Your gracious wife dropped me a note the other day saying you planned to come here. That is why I have not written you sooner. You have not; thus I feel I should write you now to say that I understand entirely. Your career must keep you exceedingly busy. Nose to the grindstone and all that.

It has been a terrible disappointment just the same. How I would love to see you! I would employ my newfound wealth to pay you a visit if I thought you would receive me. You called the police last time, remember? It was profoundly embarrassing, and they held me for most of the day. I only hope that time has relaxed your edgy reflexes.

Interesting events have taken place here. Have I told you about old
Nick? I feel certain that I told you (was it in my last?) that I intended to inspect the Skotos property with Doris. We did, had a good dinner afterward, and spent a pleasant evening.

When I returned home this morning, I discovered that old Nick had been busy in my absence. An Oriental rug now covers most of my living-room floor. There is a table in the dining room, and the escritoire in which I found my coins and this paper lords over an adjacent room.

"I trust you approve, sir?" he said. "I hoped you might find this more comfortable."

I said that I certainly did, and asked as casually as I could what he had done with the mattress.

"Returned it to a bed, sir. The one we installed in the master bedroom. I--um . . ."

I felt sure that he had found the money. "Yes?"

"We have no sheets as yet, sir. Nor blankets of the correct size. I have, um, selected a few of each from our attic, sheets as well as blankets which I hope will suit, sir. They are dusty, however. I have washed a few, sir, and dried a blanket." He coughed. "Only the one blanket thus far."

"I understand. Might I have a look at the master bedroom?"

"Certainly, sir. But you must make allowances. As I hope you will, sir. I have scarcely begun."

"Let me see it," I said, "and I'll tell you." Do I have to explain that I was worried about that mattress, George? I was. Worried sick.

He led the way, his crutch thumping the floor at every stride. A door in the little hall between the dining room and the kitchen admitted us to a longer hall, and that to the master bedroom. It is capacious and at present more than a little bare; but the high, black four-poster from which I had taken the mattress stands at its center. I walked around it, pretending to examine the bed while I actually looked at the mattress. It seemed intact; as I scrutinized it, it occurred to me that the old man would certainly have decamped if he had found the money.

"A formidable piece of furniture." I smiled.

"Indeed, sir."

"I've gone through here to shave and bathe, but I've never paid much attention to the room. It's rather nice."

"May you spend many a restful night here, sir."

"The house is unheated, I believe."

"Not wholly, sir. There is a furnace, sir, though its, ah, salubrious breath does not attain to every room."

"In the basement, I suppose."

"Indeed, sir."

"Is there gas for it? Has the company restored our service?"

"Not to my knowledge, sir. It is a coal furnace in any event."

"I see. Have we coal?"

He shook his head. "No, sir."

"Then perhaps we should return this mattress to the living room. The nights are still quite chilly."

"That will scarcely be necessary, sir. There are fireplaces in this bedroom, sir. I doubt that you will require both, though of course you may have both if you choose."

I looked around without seeing either.

"Behind this, sir." With obvious pride, the old man rolled aside an antique washstand on casters, revealing a small fireplace in which a fire had already been laid. "Ieuan assisted me, sir, helping carry your furniture and your carpets. He also supplied this wood. A most obliging young man, sir."

"Ieuan?"

"Yes, sir. Young Ieuan Black. He lives nearby, I believe."

"So do I. Do you happen to know his brother Emlyn?"

"Ah." The old man sighed. "He's a bad one, sir. By repute at least. I--um--have not had the pleasure, sir. And don't want it."

"I see. I have so many questions to ask you that I don't know where to begin."

"Perhaps I may assist you, sir. The, ah, object we discussed prior to your departure yesterday has been cast upon the flood, sir, in the manner proposed."

"No doubt that's for the best. You say you've washed sheets? Several sheets?"

He nodded. "Six, sir."

"And at least one blanket."

"Quite correct, sir, though there are others awaiting my attention. Three more, sir, and a quilt."

"You cannot have washed any by hand, I think. That would've left you no time to fetch them, and to fetch down all this furniture. Did you take them to the Laundromat?"

"No, sir. I, ah . . ."

"Yes?"

"I, um, pledged your credit, sir. No interest, sir, and the first payment will not be due until July, sir. We have a washer and a dryer, sir. Now."

"I understand. No doubt they are in the basement?"

"Quite correct, sir. In the laundry room. Both are electrically powered."

"You intend to use them to wash your own clothing as well, I hope."

"Indeed, sir. Quite correct. My first wish, however, was to render you more comfortable, sir. I had hoped to have your bed in order before you returned."

"Surely you expected me last night."

"Not, um, really, sir." He colored. "The lady was young and attractive. I glimpsed her through our window, sir. You are, if I may say it, sir, a young man of--"

"Let's leave it at that. You said there were two fireplaces. Where is the other?"

"Across the room, sir. In the corner behind that screen."

It is of painted silk, George, and might well be in a museum. When the old man had folded back its mist-wrapped mountains and sinuous dragon, a second fireplace was indeed revealed--as well as a hearth on which two animals sat as primly as porcelain figurines upon a mantelpiece: one was Winkle, the other the small dog with which the old man had been playing when I first saw him.

I glanced at him to see whether he had been expecting them, but he appeared at least as surprised as I felt. I said, "That is your pet, I believe?"

"It--ah--he is, sir. My, um, little Toby."

"He is housebroken, I hope."

"Yes, sir. You do not object to him, sir?"

"I'll answer that in a moment," I said. "I have a question of my own first. Clearly you saw the fox."

(Winkle rose to rub herself against my leg.)

"Oh, I did, sir. I do indeed."

"Here is my question. Do you object to her?"

"From her behavior, and yours, sir, I take it that she is yours? If that is so, it is scarcely my place to make objection, sir. Rather, I shall care for her as though she were my own."

I was too occupied with my thoughts to speak.

"Better, sir, I hope. My, um, straitened means have compelled me to neglect poor Toby more than I should wish to confess."

"Then I will say this. I do not object to Toby at present."

The old man smiled, revealing teeth I feel quite sure are false. "Thank you, sir. Thank you very much!"

"If you--and Toby--want to continue living in this house, it cannot be as a guest. Do you seek employment with me?"

"Precisely so, sir. I have endeavored to prove my worth. As your servant, I shall redouble my efforts."

"Commendable. What terms of employment will you accept?"

It cannot be easy for someone who needs a crutch to bow, but the old man managed it. "First, sir, that Toby and I be permitted to continue here. We have no other home, sir."

"Certainly," I said.

"Other than that, our food, sir. We must eat or starve."

"Will you undertake to prepare mine?"

"Gladly, sir, though I am no chef. Simple food will present no difficulties, however. Welsh rabbit, omelets,
hamam bil zaytun
, and the like are within my range, sir, though it does not extend far beyond them."

"Can you make coffee?"

"Indeed, sir. Would you care for some?"

"Good coffee?"

"Yes, sir. I can, sir. But excellent coffee . . ." He sighed. "I cannot, sir. Not with the materials at hand."

"I understand. Please make me some good coffee, and we will continue our discussion."

He left, with Toby at his heels. Too late I added, "Close the door, please."

Winkle giggled as I shut it myself.

I said, "You can talk, Winkle. I know it and you know I know it."

"Yeth."

"Dogs and foxes are mortal enemies--or so I've been given to understand. When the old man moved that screen, you and Toby were certainly not at each others throats."

"He ith a familiar."

"The old man's familiar? Are you saying he's a witch? Or a sorcerer?"

"I am yourth."

"My familiar?"

Winkle giggled again. "I go outthide?"

"You need to go out?"

She nodded vigorously. "Pleath open the window, Bakth."

I did, and she bounded through it.

As you may imagine, I was very busy indeed with a painstaking examination of the mattress until the old man returned. It was just as I had left it. I seated myself upon it when his soft knock told he had returned, and he hobbled in, pushing a small serving cart.

"Coffee, sir. Cream, sir. Sugar, sir. Since you purchased the latter commodities, I assume that you will employ both."

I nodded, and he filled my cup from a silver pot. The coffee smelled wonderful, and tasted even better.

"It is nothing out of the ordinary, sir. Clean equipment and good water. I was forced to employ a percolator, sir. It is all we have at present."

I said, "As long as your coffee remains as good as this, I will not complain of it. What salary will you accept?"

"If you will supply my small needs as they arise, sir, that will be entirely sufficient."

"I would greatly prefer to pay you a weekly stipend," I told him. "Please propose a figure."

I was prepared to bargain, but the compensation he asked was so modest that I agreed at once. After that I told him that I intended to take a nap, adding that I had gotten little sleep the previous night.

"I quite understand, sir. I am too old for such things now, but in my younger days . . ."

"Of course. Could you fetch my luggage? My pajamas will be in my bag."

"I have attended to that already, sir." He opened the door of what proved to be a very large closet. My bag and my clothing were in there, as was the oil lamp I had almost forgotten.

There were bolts on both doors. I shot them as soon as he had left; then, with trembling heart, ripped out the stitches I had sewn earlier in the mattress.

The money was still there, and for the first time I counted the entire sum. I will not give you the total, George, but it was quite large.

Reassured, I sewed the mattress up again, put on my pajamas, and lay down. Doris had exhausted me, but the coffee I had drunk kept me awake for a few minutes at least. I recall thinking about buying her something, and about getting the old man a new crutch. (The one he has is little more than a forked stick, with rags knotted around the fork to pad it.)

I woke after an hour or so, and found I had company. The almond-eyed young woman for whom I had bought the robe had rejoined me, lying quite naked beside me. Still half asleep, I mumbled, "What are you doing here?"