sudden cold coursing through his roomâa mighty wind, actually, a mighty polar wind. Medusa, the neighborly cat, yowled outside. Shivering, Leonard tried to coax her in through the cat-chimney, or even through the door, thinking she might warm him, but she wouldnât cross the threshold, nor would she leave off yowling.
Iâm not listening! Leonard shouted, and the ground started to shake, the sixty-day seal on his grandfatherâs closet popped open, the opaque flimsies on his windows became translucent, letting in great lightâand from the corner of his eye, he saw movement on his screen: it was his grandfather, wearing his worn brown caftan, gesticulating to a small boy. He and the boy were on the settee in the White Room, before it was a White Room, as the room had been when his grandfather was alive. The boy had a brown afro and a T-shirt that read âI Love Grandpaw.â
Boychik, the grandfather said to the little boy, there will come a day when I will no longer be with you â¦, and the boy said, Donât say that, Grandpa! I donât like it when you say that! and the old man said, Boychik, I need you to listen good. A man will come for you named Isaac. I donât know how he comes but you gotta do how he says. Remember this, because I wonât behere to tell you! And the boy said, No! Iâm not listening! and he put his fingers in his ears and shouted, La, la, la, la! The grandfather smiled and shrugged his shoulders at the adult Lenny, as if to say, Look at yourself! What a boy!
Had that happened? Leonard was shaking. This wasnât a Neetsa Pizza test, this wasnât the joke of a loonyâthis was real, whatever real was.
The phone bleated and Leonard picked it up.
What do you need me to do? he asked.
This is more like it, Isaac said.
We hate traitors
The room was quiet again and no longer a White Room. Leonard had opened the door and let in Medusa, who deposited a dead chipmunk by the cat-chimney. He was yanking the flimsies off the windows when the phone began to ring like a siren.
Yes, sir, Leonard said.
High Command advises that there has been a breach of the White Room.
Yes, sir, Leonard said. I have to take a break, thatâs all, which is to say, I canât work for you anymore.
Medusa jumped on his lap and began to purr.
Itâs not the Heraclitan Grill, is it? Our Listeners are never happy there. They come crawling back, but you know our policy.
Yes, sir, you donât like traitors.
You know the only support they get is a can of Flame-Off for if they set themselves alight.
I know, Leonard said.
Was it the attack on our pizza grottos? Theyâre under control now, you know.
I hadnât heard about that. No, itâs something else. I canât talk about it.
You recall that you signed an
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agreement?
I agreed to be silent aboutâ
Our recipes ingredients White Room Pythagorean Papers soul tracing aptitude tests meditation scripts algorithms policies and punishments.
Punishments?
You signed the agreement. Keep it and youâll have nothing to worry about.
Right, Leonard said. I wonât tell anyone.
We know about your true-ray blocker.
Goodbye, sir.
Donât you come crawling back! We hate traitors!
For the second time that night, the doorbell rang. It was Carol and Felix.
I saw the shades were up. You okay?
I quit my job.
Good, Carol said. You can watch Felix. Donât worry if I donât come back straightaway. Iâm going to a book-club convention.
She was wearing her climbing suit and dust cap and was carrying not her usual clutchbag but a six-gallon grabbag over her shoulders.
Go on, Felix. Uncle Leonard will take care of you.
She pushed her son forward but he clung to the ridges of her climbing suit.
Donât go, Mommy! Please donât go!
Big boy, Felix. Clootie dumplings and head cheese in the freezer, lucre in the peanut-butter jam square jar.
She pecked Felixâs cheek and,