Louse by David Grand Page B

say Blurd hums nonstop,” Ms. Morris announces.
    â€œThey are thinking of putting him in isolation,” Crane conjectures.
    â€œSending him to the outer wings,” Heinrik elaborates.
    â€œTo the under wings,” Lutherford embellishes.
    â€œThat Blurd!” they all exclaim. “That Blurd!”
    â€œMay he find some self control,” Ms. Morris snaps. “Some self discipline.”
    Ms. Morris glimpses over to me. She can’t contain herself. Nor can any of them.
Rumors of the accused do not merit truth. Invention for invention’s sake is appropriate and encouraged. Fictions cast onto the suspicious enables the authorities of truth to reveal more truth
. Ms. Morris giggles. She and then the rest.
    â€œThat Blurd must have a strong reprimand coming to him,” Lutherford announces.
    â€œHe must have already lost his privileges to Paradise.”
    â€œAt least bumped back on the list.”
    â€œBumped completely, I’d say.”
    â€œOh, no doubt,” they say. “No doubt.”
    They all stare gravely as though they have moved the conversation a little beyond the boundaries they are allowed.
To speak of Paradise in vain is a punishable offense
. I feel great pleasure as Ms. Morris raises her hand to her mouth and as Mr. Crane bites down on his lower lip. Lutherford has cast his eyes to the floor. Mr. Heinrik, as well. However, Mr. Heinrik slowly lifts his eyes and looks atme, suddenly possessed with a new spirit. “Oh, that Blurd,” he says and lets out a short staccato giggle. The giggle distracts everyone from their contemplation and infects them with a little humor. They look at each other. “Yes, that Blurd,” they say, one after the other, and the giggles grow louder until they all simultaneously wilt into expressions of discomfort.
    Mr. Heinrik and Mr. Lutherford, without bidding anyone good-bye or good fortune bow their heads and silently turn back into the kitchen. Ms. Morris and Mr. Crane follow.
    I remain standing alone beside the entryway to Poppy’s chambers.
    As I lean against the wall, for some inexplicable reason I can hear voices drifting through the intercom next to the door. They are soft, but clear, and when I stand still I can hear each and every utterance. Considering that this is my position for the time being, and there is none other I can think of to go to, I stand at attention.
    â€œYour bravado is unnecessary, gentlemen,” Poppy says.
    â€œYou still don’t fully understand our position.” It is Mr. Sherwood. His voice is stern and unforgiving and twice as loud as the others—perhaps because he is speaking to them from his office over the intercom.
    â€œYou’ll simply have to be more clever, Mr. Sherwood. I told you there are many doors and many passages, many dead ends. Track down the money and it’s yours. If you don’t find it, you will lose it. How can I be more fair?”
    â€œYou’re playing games,” Dr. Barnum insists. “Games in which you have the advantage and games meant to distract us.”
    â€œBut it is a game,” Poppy insists. “It’s a game of devices and deceits. But other than that, it’s not a game at all. It’s deadly serious,Felonius. There is one last thing that I wish to accomplish. I believe you’re in my way of accomplishing it, and therefore, I must either surrender my vision on your behalf or push you aside to obtain it. It’s as simple as that. Yet, I’m willing to play it out, gentlemen. Just to show you that it is nothing personal. I respect the loyalty you’ve shown me all these years. In fact, I cherish it enough to give you a fighting chance.”
    â€œOur intent has never been to obstruct your ambition, Herbert,” Mr. Sherwood says.
    â€œI’ve seen your objections to my plans, Mr. Sherwood. I have read them carefully and know with what intent they were drawn.”
    â€œYou’ll excuse